Read Online Suite 269 by Christine Zolendz - Free Book Online

out to wet them. Eyes darkened, deadly pull of a smile that made me swallow whatever thick lump had lodged in my throat. My hands clenched tightly into clammy little fists.
    I'm reading this situation wrong, right?
    James leaned back against his seat, blinked, and ran both his hands through his hair, tugging when he got to the ends. " Whoa , sorry," he said under his breath.
    That's when the realization dawned on me: I was definitely reading this situation wrong and more importantly; this was someone I worked for. Shit. I was acting unprofessional and stupid. "Mr. Holt. Oh, my God, I'm so drunk I don't even know where the heck I am. This is probably the most unprofessional thing you've ever seen. I am so sorry."
    I felt the landing gear open beneath my feet, the loud clank of metal pulling me back down to earth. "You needed this, Lex," he said. A gorgeous smile tugged at his lips. A dangerous smile, one that had me acknowledging even one kiss of Mr. Holt's and my heart would not survive. "You weren't unprofessional in the least. As a matter of fact, this was one of the best flights I've had in a while."
    We matched smiles. Nice, friendly, professional smiles. Yet, the urge to climb in his lap and nibble his lower lip was maddening. I desperately tried to ignore the heat of his gaze, so I started singing what was supposed to be my wedding song in my head and kept my eyes fixed on some random focal point on my hands.
    There's a vague memory of stumbling down steps onto a tarmac with James laughing beside me, his arms wrapped around my waist. Then there were flashes of a chauffer in a sleek black car and buildings racing past us as we toasted to douchebags, sluts, and new friendships, while singing songs about throwing away garbage.
    Then his hands helped me fumble with keys. Strong, warm arms carried me up the stairs. My bedroom door. James leaning against my wall saying something like, "You need to take care of yourself, be selfish for awhile. Where do you keep your pajamas? I’ll help you undress."
    "Real subtle, Holt," I said aloud.
    He gave me a huge smile. A smile that made me, if I'm remembering correctly, throw my panties at him. There’s a hazy memory of his fingertips dangling them teasingly, bringing them up to his face, and breathing them in.
    I think I need to go I remember him saying, yet standing there, staring at me, not moving to leave.
    S'kay I thought . I'm just going to pull the covers over my head and cry at top volume, but not because of them. And in the morning when I sober up, I'll get up and take a shower, and masturbate the fuck out of my showerhead thinking of you .
    Shit. I hope I didn't say that out loud.

7
    Jameson
    “You may think I have a dirty mind, but it’s just explicitly creative.” @Kavon #SexOnTheBrain
    I was so screwed .
    Her bedroom was soft, low lit. A crimson colored light fell through her window, casting a warm sinful glow along her skin. Somewhere my brain whispered low, deep, I needed to leave . Yet, I watched her sleep. Messed up, I know, but I couldn't help myself.
    I forgot to ask her if Kevin Trager knew Alex Kavon. The reason she was put on that plane with me and I couldn't think about anything but how funny she was, how beautiful she was, how stupid a guy like Kevin Trager was.
    I was so screwed .
    We stumbled into her apartment together. Not intentionally, but the laughter and the conversation kept us going. She could talk about anything—one of those people who knew useless trivial facts about everything. It fascinated me. We laughed and teased, flirted and talked; all while I imagined her mouth on my cock or riding me deep and slow.
    I sat down beside her. Gently tucked her hair behind her ear. It was a strange place I found myself; I'd never wanted to crawl into bed and taste someone more than at that very moment. The only thing stopping me was how intoxicated we both were. She's not the kind of woman I could just sleep with though; she'd want more, and she'd already