CHAPTER FIVE
EMILY
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G od, I feel like shit . I have a hangover and haven’t been able to fall asleep. Not for lack of trying.
I spent the day setting up my New York apartment and jetlag is kicking my ass.
I had a microwave dinner in front of the TV, which died halfway through the show, so I pulled up a video on YouTube. By then the meal was cold and I gave up.
Technically, I napped on the plane for a few hours, waking with a dry mouth, aching pussy, and the taste of Bastian’s come in the back of my throat.
God.
I can’t believe we did that.
My only regret is not seeing him naked. If cocks could be classified as beautiful, I swear his would be on the cover of GQ.
That’s a weird thing to say, I suppose, and yet it was beautiful. And large, and... Don’t get attached.
Surprising me, Bastian was an absolute gentleman afterward and during the last hours of the flight. He was still broody—which I find sexy—but made sure I woke for breakfast and always had a drink.
Neither of us had any more alcohol.
“How do you not have a headache?” I asked as we walked through the airport after landing.
“I metabolize fast and had some electrolytes,” Bastian said, lifting his bag onto his shoulders. “Where are you staying?”
“Oh.” I blushed, surprised by his question. It almost sounded like he was interested. I’d thought we would part ways and that would be it. So, I went with vague, “In Manhattan.”
Lifting my suitcase when I pointed at it, Bastian nodded and then groaned. “Christ, did you pack your entire house?”
I giggled.
For such a broody man, he was very funny.
Shooting me a fake scowl, Bastian then guided me outside where a luxurious looking black SUV was parked.
“I’ll just get a cab,” I said when a man greeted him with a welcome home, sir and took his luggage.
“Get in,” Bastian ordered.
“You’re very bossy.” I lifted my face and almost purred when I took in the rough growth on his jaw in the early morning light.
So damn sexy.
A good foot taller than me, Bastian’s large frame towered over me, making me shiver. I felt so feminine and petite near him.
His brow lifted, showing impatience.
Teasing, I asked, “How do I know you’re not some sexual predator?”
“Jesus, Emily.” Bastian pushed me into the SUV.
“Sorry, that was probably inappropriate.”
“Yes.” He darted me with an annoyed look, then handed me his phone. “Put your number in there.”
Oh.
“Really?”
As the vehicle began to move away from the sidewalk, he let out a sigh, as if happy to be home in the United States.
“We have unfinished business.” Bastian brushed the hair from my forehead and then took the phone from me when I was done.
I had been too nervous to ask what that meant. Physically? Or did he want to date?
So, I didn’t.
He dropped me off at my apartment and now I’m lying in bed hungover, jetlagged, and feeling completely confused about him.
Not that I shared that with Lexi when we spoke.
I did, in fact, take a selfie of Bastian when I found him snoozing at one point. At least, I think he was. I lifted my phone and took a snap, and his eyes stayed closed.
When I checked it earlier, it was good enough to send to Lexi along with photos of my apartment.
“Holy shit, who is that?” she demanded after calling me immediately.
“Someone I joined the mile high club with.”
“Get the fuck out of here!” She gasped.
I giggled.
“Yup. His name is Bastian. God, he’s gorgeous, Lexi. Drop-dead, Henry Cavill, gorgeous.”
“You shagged him on the plane?”
“Well, oral sex and finger stuff. You don’t need more details.”
“I do. Start from the beginning,” Lexi demanded.
My best friend had no filter and nothing phased her.
Chuckling, I told her everything, starting from when I got upgraded to going down on my knees. “Let’s just say he blew down my throat and then it was my turn.”
“God, nothing like that ever happens to me.” Lexi sighed.
“You’ve never been on a plane.”
“I took the train to Paris. They have bathrooms,” she exclaimed, and I guess I couldn’t argue with that. “Are you going to see him again?”
I didn’t know.
That was the million-dollar question. After I put my phone number into his phone, he simply tucked it away and the ride to my apartment was sort of quiet. If my head hadn’t been fuzzy from the long flight and dehydration, I may have felt awkward.
Instead, I was taking in the sights of New York as we sped along the highway. I was so excited to be in America, I wasn’t entirely focused on Bastian.
That, and I had to dig out my address, make sure I had some bearings, and remember the code the landlord had given me.
It was early morning in New York, so that gave me almost two full days before starting my new job on Monday.
When we pulled up, Bastian’s driver got my bags out of the trunk and placed them on the sidewalk while we got out of the car.
“I can take them from here,” I said, and he glanced up at the unimpressive building.
“You sure?”
“Of course.” I waved him off, knowing he was heading to some fancy penthouse. “I’m just going to crash.”
That was the furthest from the truth. I had to get my body clock reset quickly, then get groceries, work out how long it would take me to walk to my new office so that I wasn’t late, and buy a whole range of home necessities.
Things like sheets, towels, and whatever else wasn’t supplied in my apartment.
The listing was vague. I hadn’t exactly planned this in advance, so I was using my very small savings.
I didn’t want this clearly wealthy and successful man witnessing whatever was going to greet me when I opened the door.
Fortunately, Bastian nodded, leaned down, and kissed my cheek as he tightened a hand around my hip, and whispered in the sexiest and most husky tone I’d ever heard. “I will be in touch.”
I swear you could get pregnant just from his voice.
“I think so,” I replied to Lexi. “He took my number.”
“Jesus Em, you might marry some rich American businessman and never come home. That will teach your dad.”
Hmmm.
It really wouldn’t. He’d just say I needed a man to survive. No way that was going to happen. I was determined to have a career that was successful and fulfilling in my life, and if I met a rich man at some point, it wouldn’t mean anything.
First, I needed to make this new job work for at least two years. Only then would my father back off.
I think.
Spending time with Bastian in the meantime would be fun—probably just sexy fun—and who knows, he might have friends.
I had no expectation he wanted a relationship, which was fine by me. I was settling into a new country and a new job.
Later, I’d date.
As he said, we had unfinished business, and I was as keen as he was to feel that amazing cock of his deep inside me.
So, after ending the call with Lexi, I try to sleep, but it’s not happening.
I have one more day until I start work, so I’m going to visit Central Park and possibly the Met if I have time. Then, get my work outfits ready for Monday morning.
I can’t wait to meet my boss.
I hope he’s nice.
Two years. I just need to spend two years working for Mr. Remington, then I can return home and tell my father I told you so.
I hope we get along.