Chapter 28

LAYLA

I climbed up the steps to the plane with Briggs right behind me, my belly churning with a mixture of fear and excitement. My first time on an airplane, and it was a freaking private jet!

“Wow!” I gasped as I stepped into the cabin. “Fancy.”

An attractive redhead in a stewardess outfit approached from the front of the plane. “Welcome to Arista Private Charters. I’m Alexis.”

She looked right at Briggs, completely ignoring me as she laid on the charm, batting her eyelashes and thrusting her chest out. Could she be any more obvious?

“We’re delighted to have you and your daughter join us today, Mr. Westinghouse.”

Briggs placed his hand on my lower back. “My girlfriend,” he corrected.

“Oh!” she squeaked with a high-pitched, fake laugh. “My apologies.”

A middle-aged silver fox emerged from the cockpit door. “Good day, folks. I’m Richard, your pilot this afternoon. We’ll be taking off momentarily, and should touch down in New York City just after 4 p.m. We’ll be in the air for approximately seventy minutes this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Briggs said.

“New York City?!” I squealed.

“Yes, love,” Briggs grinned down at me before kissing me softly on the lips.

There was so much I wanted to ask him, but I decided to wait until the slutty stewardess disappeared. I didn’t like her. Why was her skirt so short?

And why did women find it necessary to put their tits on display? And for Pete’s sake, why did they have to flirt with my boyfriend? First the floozy swimming instructor, now the stewardess.

~Because your boyfriend is hot. And filthy rich. And famous. He’s Canada’s most eligible bachelor. Good luck hanging onto him, white trash girl.~

Once we were buckled into our seats, Alexis disappeared. I glanced around the luxurious cabin. Leather recliners, a fancy bar, shiny fixtures, a giant TV.

It looked just like the private planes you see in the movies. I was flying in one. Me! Layla Lucas from the ghetto of Scarborough. Trailer trash Layla.

“Is this why you got me a passport?” I whispered.

“No. I originally got you a passport so you could travel with me and the boys when they get a little older. But I’m glad you have it now. Otherwise, I would not have been able to fly you to New York.”

“Why did you tell the stewardess I was your girlfriend?”

“Because you are,” he whispered, leaning over to steal a kiss, “and private charter companies like this rely on celebrities and rich people. If they blabbed our secrets, they wouldn’t be in business very long.”

“I suppose not.”

“And I wanted to make out with you on the flight without worrying about her walking in on us.”

“She would like to shove me out the emergency exit door so she can jump your bones.”

“All the ladies want a piece of this.”

“Wow.” I rolled my eyes, turning to look out the window. We were still sitting on the tarmac.

“But there’s only one girl who’s getting any,” he said, sliding his hand under the hem of my sundress.

“Briggs,” I giggled when he slipped a finger inside my panties.

“Your pussy is always so wet and ready for me,” he murmured, nibbling on my earlobe.

“Is the plane moving?”

“That’s generally what happens,” he chuckled, pushing a finger inside me. “Close your eyes and focus on your pussy, and how good it feels when I’m fingering you.”

“It feels ~so~ good,” I moaned, spreading my thighs wider.

He added a second finger, teasing my clit with his thumb. I forgot where I was, lost in the pleasure between my legs; until the loud roar of the engines jolted me out of my happy space.

I held my breath, my muscles tensing as the wheels lifted off the ground.

“Open up,” Briggs whispered, pressing his finger against my lips. The same finger that was just in my vag! “Chew this. It’ll help your ears.”

I chomped down on the piece of gum as the plane rose into the clouds. When I looked out the window, it was like I was looking at Google Street View~.~

“Did the gum help?”

“Yes. Even though it tasted like pussy.”

“Your pussy is delicious, doll.”

“I think it might be an acquired taste.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Westinghouse?”

We looked up to find Alexis standing in the doorway of the passenger cabin. She refused to make eye contact with me. What a stuck-up bitch!

“Can I get you a beverage?”

“Yes. I’ll have a gin and tonic.” Briggs glanced at me. “What would you like, darling?”

~Darling? What the fuck?~ ~Was I old?~

“I have no idea. Why don’t you pick something for me?”

“The lady will have a glass of champagne.”

“The lady approves,” I said in a high-pitched, fake accent. “Please bring it in a glass from the handcrafted crystal collection the queen sent me.”

The stewardess finally made eye contact with me, failing miserably at disguising her condescending sneer. “Excuse me, Miss?”

“It’s fine,” Briggs said. “She was joking. Any glass will do.”

***

“Don’t fall asleep,” Briggs said, poking me in the side when my eyes drifted closed. “We’ll be landing soon. You don’t want to miss seeing New York City from the air.”

“I probably should’ve passed on the second glass of champagne.”

Excitement bubbled in the pit of my belly when the pilot came over the intercom, advising us to put on our seatbelts for our final descent into New York City.

~New York City~!

I was in another country, in one of the most amazing cities in the world. How did this happen?

Two months ago, I was living in a trailer park, working a minimum-wage job, and barely getting by. Now I was flying to New York in a private jet with my billionaire boyfriend.

“I see the Statue of Liberty!” I shrieked.

Briggs slipped his arm around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder while I gazed out the window.

“Can you please tell me what we’re going to be doing? How long are we staying?”

“We’re only spending one night here. I promise I’ll bring you back another time, and we’ll tour the city.”

I shoved my disappointment away for later. Briggs didn’t want to be seen in public with me. Same story, different day. But I refused to let it ruin this experience. I would enjoy the life of the rich and famous while I had it.

“Where are we staying?”

“On a private yacht. We’ll watch the fireworks from the harbor, and then sail out to Mystic, Connecticut, where we’ll anchor for the night.”

“Oh my God! It’s the Fourth of July.”

“That’s right. New York City puts on a brilliant fireworks display.”

Briggs held my hand as the plane dropped, coasting down the smooth runway to the private airport where a car would be waiting.

A car with tinted windows, and a driver trusted to keep the secrets of the famous people he shuttled around.

The drive from the airport to the private yacht club was short. I stared out the window, the tall buildings and crowds reminding me a lot of downtown Toronto.

Briggs rubbed my bare thigh, teasing the edge of my panties with his fingers. “I can’t wait to get between your legs again, baby,” he murmured.

“You’re insatiable,” I laughed.

“When it comes to your delicious peach, I can never get enough. I want you underneath me all night long, legs spread wide, moaning while I make sweet love to you. Over and over until we collapse from exhaustion.”

“That’s a pretty ambitious goal for an old guy.”

“Hey, now. That’s not nice.”

“Sorry,” I whispered, rubbing his erection through his shorts.

“You can make it up to me later, doll.”

I didn’t get much of a chance to look at the yacht. As soon as we exited the car, Briggs led me down the dock at lightning speed. We walked up a short ramp and onto the boat.

The yacht wasn’t huge. But it sure was fancy. I swiveled 360 degrees on my heels, taking it all in. The blue leather furniture and wooden accents made me think of a beach.

A very expensive beach, where only the upper crust of society was allowed to sunbathe on the sand made of gold powder.

“Hello!” A man, who reminded me a lot of the guy who played Chow in ~The Hangover~ movies, appeared from somewhere. “Welcome! So glad to have you join us from Canada for Independence Day.”

Briggs accepted his handshake. “Briggs Westinghouse. And this is my girlfriend, Layla.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Layla,” he said. “You too, Mr. Westinghouse. Nice goal in the last game of your career.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Mike, by the way. I will be your cabin steward for this evening. Anything you need, you call me and I will get it.”

“Great,” Briggs said.

“How about I give you a tour?”

We followed Mike up to the back deck. I gasped when I saw a swimming pool and a hot tub.

“The aft deck is a private deck. I won’t come out here unless you ring. Some of our guests enjoy sunbathing in the nude, or having sexy times out here.”

He threw his head back, giggling like a teenage girl. “I walked in on that once. Never again.”

“Good to know,” Briggs chuckled.

“I will show you to your suite, then leave you alone until dinner.”

Our bedroom was on the highest deck, surrounded by windows on three sides. There was a huge, round skylight above the king-sized bed.

Late afternoon sun flooded the bright room, the navy linens a stark contrast to the white walls and furnishings.

“Dinner will be served at seven, as per your request.”

“Thank you, Mike,” Briggs said.

“This boat is awesome,” I whispered, walking to the wall of windows to take in the New York City skyline.

“It’s nice,” Briggs agreed.

“It must’ve cost a fortune to rent it for the night.”

“You’re worth every penny, honey,” he said, coming up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist. “I hope you like it.”

“It’s beautiful, Briggs.” I turned around to face him, locking my arms around his neck. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s a dream come true.”

“The night is only just beginning, sweetheart,” he whispered before leaning in to kiss me softly, his lips covering mine while his hands cupped my buns. “We have lots of time before dinner. What would you like to do?”

“Can we go in the pool?”

“We’re in the harbor, honey. Once we get out to sea, we can certainly do that.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.”

~If you’re hiding your girlfriend from the public eye.~ ~Stop being an ungrateful baby, Layla. The man flew you to New York City on a private jet and rented a yacht for you.~

“Didn’t you say we would stay docked until after the fireworks?”

“Yeah. It’ll be cold and windy out there when we’re sailing. We may not get a chance to use the pool, but we can definitely spend some time in the hot tub.

“And you still can’t swim, missy. I haven’t been able to find another instructor.”

“I could stay in the shallow end.”

“Maybe later.”

“What is there to do inside this boat?”

He lowered his mouth to my neck, kissing and nibbling his way down to my collarbone while his hand slid up my thigh to rub me through my panties.

“I wanted to save that bed for later, but I need to be inside you now, baby.”

A little voice tried to fill my head with doubts, warning that a healthy relationship should consist of more than sex.

But then he squeezed my clit, shutting my brain down as he carried me off to paradise with his fingers.