Plus One Love: The Wedding Party Series
1. Micah
“Areyou sure I can’t get you… anything… to help pass the time?” Brittany, the sole flight attendant on this plane today, traces the shell of my ear with her fingertip as she leans over me, ensuring I get a good look down her blouse. Plump, perky, surgically enhanced breasts encased in royal purple lace that beg to be touched have me licking my lips. It’s been too long since my last encounter, since the last time I got my dick wet. It’s why I’ve been looking forward to this weekend away for my competitor’s son’s wedding. Work will be part of it, but there’ll be enough down time to spend some time down and in Elise, my plus one.
Elise. Not Brittany no matter how many times she dangles her tits in front of my face. This might be my plane, but I don’t mix business—my businesses—with pleasure. I don’t sleep with my employees.
“I have work to keep me company until Elise arrives.” I motion to my open laptop.
“Work won’t take away your stress.” She runs her fingernail down my neck, onto my chest and further as she drops to a squat in front of my chair. The motion draws my gaze further down her cleavage, to her pert nipples that strain the tensile strength of the lace to contain them. “I can take your stress away.”
I pull my gaze away without any difficulty, frustrated with Elise’s tardiness. Normally Brittany doesn’t work alone since she’s known to pleasure some of the businessmen I transport. It makes her a valuable employee as she helps to mellow them out before negotiations or by loosening their lips, revealing whatever strategies they’re planning on using. Women have often been used in such manner by various clandestine services. The difference here is that it’s not part of her job description.
“That’s what my weekend with Elise is for.” I don’t want to be harsh with her because we’ve flirted before. I flirt a lot… with anyone in a skirt, but my employees all know my stance. Even while married—although I’m a happily divorced man now and very single—and known to stray, I never took advantage of my employees that way. And that rule has never changed.
But since that stupid entertainment reporter named myself, my brothers, and our sons, the Billionaire More Bachelors, some of my employees no longer hold back. Another reason why Brittany is never supposed to work alone on my flights even if others do. Something I’ll be remedying next week.
The sound of footsteps climbing the metal stairs to my aircraft, stops our conversation and has Brittany straightening up as she buttons two of the buttons she’d undone in her attempt to seduce me. Elise is known to go on the attack when female employees flirt with me in her presence. Actually, she’s been known to go on the attack when any employee displeases her and those slights can be miniscule. It’s not something I like, reminding me a little too much of the women I’ve tried to avoid all my life, but she’s connected due to her previous marriages and her father. Connections that help in my position as CEO of More Transportation, a division of MoreFam Cor.
I close my laptop and stand, eager to greet Elise. It’s been almost a year since our last get together due to our schedules and I’ve missed her body, her mouth.
The steps hesitate near the top. Elise never hesitates. It’s my first inkling that all isn’t right, but I ignore the feeling. I motion to Brittany to go greet our guest, but she’s already moving. A smile on her face without any hint that she’d just been making a play for me, proving she knows the score with Elise even if she knowingly flaunted my rules.
“This is a private plane. I’m not sure how you made it past security, but you can’t be here.” The cold politeness—almost snootiness—in Brittany’s voice has me moving closer to the door. Not that I’m worried for the safety of my employee since the steps climbing the stairs had obviously been heels and most likely not a threat. Instead, call me curious. The airport is private, and the security is provided by MoreFam Security, the company my brother, Lucas, runs. Only someone with credentials and valid business should make it this far.
“I’m here for Mr. Moore.” The feminine voice flows like honey in my ears. That slow, coating of sweetness that fills in every crack it encounters. That’s what it does to me, filling every hole in my soul.
“—not here. You’ll need to leave your message at the main desk.” Brittany tosses her hair in what I’ve come to recognize as a mean girl move. My son’s childhood best friend, Katy, had been the recipient of such a move on numerous occasions when other girls were trying to stake their claims on my son.
“Well, Brittany, is it? I guess you’ll have to take that up with the main desk since they’re the ones who pointed me to this plane, telling me that Mr. More was waiting for me.”
The sweet steel in the voice has my cock sitting up and taking notice. There’s nothing hotter to me than a woman who is polite and sweet but has a backbone of steel. Someone who doesn’t need to be bitchy to get what she wants when people stand in her way. A woman who knows what she wants, never gives up, yet doesn’t trample over people in her quest to get there. It’s only as I move closer to the door that her words register. How can I be waiting for her when I’ve never even heard her voice before?
I step around Brittany and stop. Fuck. The petite woman in front of me leaves me breathless as I stare. Her long, burgany tinged hair is pulled back into a sleek bun, allowing her large hazel eyes to suck me in. The intelligence and the fatigue I see in them have me stepping closer, reaching out to clasp the skin of her forearm. “I’m Mr. More, Micah. What can I help you with?”
Her plump lips, colored in a shade of lipstick that I can’t even name, pop open into a circle. Thoughts of sliding my hard cock in it fill my mind. I’d undo her bun, letting her hair flow down over her shoulders, before gathering it one hand, allowing me to control the speed and depth of her movements.
“—She sent me in her place.”
I stare at her expectant, but hesitating gaze and realize I’ve missed something important while getting lost in my fantasies. I push them all to the side, blocking them so I can figure out what’s going on. “I-I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”
She pulls her arm from my grasp, and I fight my urge to reach for her again. Now that I’m looking at her without lust and desire clouding my vision, I realize she’s young. Really young, like my son’s—Mason’s—age if I’m lucky. That fact helps to cool my hormones even more, leaving me a little a little more clearheaded.
“I’m Amy Robinson, Ms. Elise Henshaw’s personal assistant. She, unfortunately, can’t make it this weekend so she sent me in her place, knowing you needed someone to be your plus one this weekend.” Amy—no, Miss Robinson—looks resigned to her role as my unexpected plus one. I wish I could say the same. Anger courses through me. How could Elise stand me up like this? She knows how important this weekend is. What could have taken precedence over a weekend with me at a private resort in the Caribbean? A weekend of sex, sun, and sand.
Fuck. This screws up everything. I can’t arrive without a date. Elise was going to be my own little spy amongst all the other business players attending the nuptials of my biggest competitor’s son. Between the way she flirts and draws male attention—like Brittany but with more refinement and skill—she’s usually able to get them to loosen their tongues in her presence, giving me dirt I can use.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I don’t have time to get another replacement. We’d already been waiting for over an hour for Elise—sorry, her personal assistant Amy—to arrive. At this stage, we’d been arriving with less than two hours to spare before tonight’s meal. But Amy’s far too young to be used in such a manner. Nor am I willing to pimp her out that way. I don’t do that with my employees so I’m not about to start with someone who doesn’t even work for me.
Fuck.
Left with no other choice, I motion for Amy—Miss Robinson—to enter the plane as I scan behind her, looking for luggage. Not finding any other than a small carryon, unease sets in. “Do you have a suitcase?”
Her eyes darken as they become guarded. “Just my gobag. Miss Robinson only informed me less than an hour ago that I was needed this weekend and that I was already late meeting you here.”
I pull the handle of the carryon from her hand, handing it off to Brittany to store as I place my other hand on Amy’s—Miss Robinson, I remind myself—back and lead her into my plane. At least if she’s Elise’s PA then I know she’s smart and organized. Elise may be a lot of things, but she doesn’t suffer fools in her employ and never in a spot this valued. I’ve seen her fire Pas for answering the phone wrong. None of her other ones would she have ever sent in her place.
“Well, Miss Robinson, I guess we’ll be spending the weekend together. Did Elise tell you anything about what’s happening or where we’re going?”
She bites her lower lip as she thinks over her answer and all the blood I’d managed to force back up into my bigger head, rushes south. Fuck me. I’m so screwed.