Surviving Sebastian

By J. A Melville

Sebastian

I had a reputation for being hard and controlling. Ruthless in the boardroom and the bedroom

When you're on the Forbes rich list the gold diggers always circle, like greedy sharks

I wasn't going to make the same mistakes as my father

I like my mistresses cold and compliant. They were little more than business deals to me

While I was cold and indifferent, my younger brother was wild and reckless

His stupidity sent me on a flight across the country to save him from himself

That's when I first saw her. Beautiful. Passionate. Fiery. Dangerous

She was the flight attendant.

It was unlikely we'd cross paths again, until a freak accident forced us together,

and it became a race for survival

I hated how much I wanted her. I hated her

 

Indigo

As a flight attendant, I worked a lot of private charters. Catering to the needs of the rich

Sebastian Colton Montgomery the 2nd was not what I'd expected. Gorgeous. Arrogant. Cold as ice

It was supposed to be a simple job. Take care of him and his mistress on the flight across the country

Engine trouble changed everything, and we were forced together in the midst of extreme circumstances

Surviving a plane crash was nothing compared to being stranded alone with someone like Sebastian Montgomery

He could turn my body to ice or set my skin on fire with a flash of those silvery eyes

I thought life would return to normal once we were rescued

He wanted me but he hated me

I had no interest in his mind games

I'd survived a plane crash but surviving Sebastian without being burned,

was going to be the bigger challenge

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. A Melville
• Release date: May 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201527112

Book preview

Chapter One

Sebastian

With an impatient flick of my wrist, I pushed the crisp white sleeve of my shirt back enough to see the time on my $20,000 gold wristwatch. It was running fast. Some might argue that one minute didn’t warrant any sort of dissatisfaction, but today, I found  it exceedingly annoying.

Of course, that might be as a result of Sean. Sean. My lip curled at the thought of my brother, and the shit he’d gotten himself into.

Flipping my sleeve back over my watch once I’d adjusted the time on it, my attention was drawn to the young woman who had just entered the cabin. She was dressed in a navy-blue skirt and jacket, with a cream blouse and a blue scarf tied at her neck. She had to be the air hostess for the trip to Perth.

Given what my fool brother had gotten himself into, I hadn’t been prepared to use one of the company jets and had hired a private plane for this trip. The last thing I needed was for employees to see the flight on the books and question the purpose of this unscheduled flight to Perth.

I was going to murder Sean when I saw him. He had to go and mess around with a married woman and knock her up. They’d fought about it. She wanted to keep the baby and Sean wanted her to abort. His decision was the correct one. No way was he even remotely ‘father’ material.

He might have been able to talk her into agreeing to the abortion, or at least a DNA test, had the husband not shown up, and gone crazy over his wife being with another man, aka Sean. They’d ended up in a fist fight. I swear my brother was all ass, zero class. And he’d found himself facing assault charges from the husband.

To add to his problems, when the husband found out who my brother was and the kind of money behind his surname, the asshole had demanded a payout to drop the charges. As well as money for the abortion. The asking price for that, $100,000.

Money. Money. Money. Every opportunistic piece of shit thought they could blackmail, bribe, scam or seduce money out of a Montgomery. None of that surprised me. The kind of wealth I had, made me an attractive target.

That’s what made the asking price suspicious to me. These people were clearly amateurs. They’d shown that with the low figure they’d demanded. They’d asked for small change when they could demand the motherload of hush money. Still, I wasn’t a fool, and I didn’t trust them. It could be $100,000 today, and tomorrow a million.

Sean didn’t have as much money. He had his trust fund and that sustained him, along with cash injections from me when the damn fool did the next stupid thing that got him in trouble. And he got himself into trouble a lot.

This was potentially the biggest fuck up of his life so far, if it were all true, but I knew I had to nip this one in the bud if I could, because I had no intention of paying hush money to these people.

Neither was my brother if I could avoid it. His trust fund was ample, but it wouldn’t sustain being forced into regular payments from the first greedy assholes who thought they could help him spend it. 

I’d been trying for years to get him to do something with his life. Maybe join the business, but he wasn’t interested. A free spirit he called himself. Free spirit, my ass. Years of alcohol, drugs and bad decisions had fucked him up. My younger brother was a dedicated consumer of every cocktail of crap he could find to inject, pop or snort.

He was only twenty-two to my thirty, but he already looked older than me. Clearly his body was showing the effects of too much substance abuse. That’s why I found it hard to believe this woman was pregnant to him. Especially when he’d admitted to me in a drunken stupor a year or two ago, that he had trouble getting it up these days.

It was frustrating that this was the path he’d  chosen. No ambition. No drive. No future if he kept going the way he was. I’d spent the last six years trying to save Sean from himself. He’d started spinning out of control at just fourteen, but by sixteen, he was drunk more than he was sober. He was high more than he wasn’t. He wasn’t interested in stopping this path of self-destruction and neither was our father.

Part of me blamed him for my brother’s lifestyle choices, and part of me knew that Sean was just weak. We’d both had to deal with the same tragedy, but I hadn’t decided to waste the rest of my life being wasted, or so drunk I couldn’t remember my own name. Losing mum had devastated us all. Even now, remembering that day we’d been given the news, still felt like yesterday.

She’d come home that day with tears in her eyes and a grim expression on her face and I’d known, even at ten years old, that something was seriously wrong. When mum had died from cancer when I was eleven years old and Sean just three, I’d never expected to see the man I’d looked up to when I was a young boy, begin to spiral out of control. He'd loved my mother so much. They’d had the perfect marriage, until the fucking day we’d heard that terrifying word: cancer.

After less than a year of fighting pancreatic cancer, she was gone, and my father fell apart. Sean took it the hardest I think. Probably due to his age. He’d only been four when she died.

I’d had to play parent to both my younger brother and my father since mum died and I was fucking done. I’d get Sean’s shit in Perth sorted. Get this pair of scammers with dollar signs in their eyes out of our lives and once we were back in Sydney, he was on his fucking own.

Dad could damn well start taking care of himself too. He got a regular income from the business that I saved. The fucking business that floundered so badly, the Montgomery name was in the damn toilet there for a while.

I’d taken over and I’d clawed us back to respect again, and I’d helped move the company into a league all of its own. The Montgomery name was worth billions, not millions, thanks to me.

Dad had made several poor choices with women since mum died and he’d been taken to the cleaners a few times. It took a few years for him to learn, and a much harder, far more bitter man sat me down one day and told me to never give my heart or credit card to a woman.

Never let them in. Never let them close, and make sure they know what their purpose is, when in my life. Fuck them. Use them. Dangle enough money and the pretty things they liked to keep them begging for more, then cut them loose once they served their purpose. Or something prettier and shinier came along.

I’d taken dad’s words on board and lived my life accordingly since. I didn’t let any woman get under my skin. I was never going to end up like my father. Broken. Bitter, and now just a shadow of his former self who drank too much and fucked anything in a skirt. Mum would be rolling in her grave if she could see what dad had become.

He was too busy sticking his dick in the first bottle blonde, cheap and greedy whore he could hold still long enough to screw. He’d screw her, while she tried to screw him out of his money, but fortunately he lived by his own words and there had been no more women playing ‘mum’ in a couple of years. 

Movement at the front of the plane drew my focus again. It was the young woman who had entered the cabin earlier. This time she was walking towards me, a polite, but professional smile on her pink painted lips.

I hadn’t seen her before, and I’d chartered a private plane or two in my lifetime. She was disturbingly attractive. Exotic looking with her olive complexion, midnight dark hair, that she wore up, and twisted into some intricate looking arrangement that sat on the back of her neck.

As she drew closer, it was her eyes that snagged me. The colour unique. Breathtaking. I’d never seen anything like them before. When she finally reached me, I found myself in the uncomfortable position of being trapped, and unable to look away from this woman.

Her eyes on closer inspection were the deepest blue I’d ever seen, but they were more than that. They seemed to have a purplish hue to them that I’d never seen before. Certainly not as an eye colour at least.

Good morning Mr Montgomery, I’m your hostess for our flight to Perth. My name is Indigo.

Indigo. I murmured. Of course. Her eyes were a perfect shade of indigo. Your name makes sense.

She smiled. This one not quite as cool and professional as her first one. My eyes. My parents chose the name due to my eyes of course.

Of course. I replied, trying to ignore how stunning she was up close. Long lashes framing those unique eyes. High cheekbones. Full lips. The lower one plump. Pouting. A slender neck and perky tits. She was certainly a beguiling looking woman. A woman who probably knew how to use her looks to hook men. Well, not today, and not me.

Is there anything I can get you? Something to eat or drink before we take off?" Indigo was back to being all professional which more than suited me. I had no desire to chat up the hired help. I had better things to do. Like contemplate all the ways I was going to murder my brother when I saw him.

Scotch. Straight. No ice. I dropped my eyes from hers, focusing on my laptop again. My tone and my demeanour a clear indication I was done with her.

Right away. She said, before turning away, and out the corner of my eye, I saw her stop at the only other occupied seat on the plane. Her friendly, yet polite voice carrying to me as she asked my mistress the same questions she’d asked me.

Meredith in her usual cold, dismissive manner simply waved the hostess away without even bothering to look at her. Typical. Meredith was as cold as ice. The proverbial Ice Queen. She was only here because she sucked dick like a fucking bargain basement hooker, and I needed her to blow me when we got off the ground.

My one weakness that I had, and I hated, was a fear of flying. I’d flown more times than I could count, but it never got any easier. For all the logic of my normally rational brain, that  one small irrational part of it tormented me with thoughts about the plane crashing.

I needed a distraction once the plane took off. By the time it gained altitude, I would be rigid with tension and nothing provided a more effective way to destress, than a pair of lips around my dick.

When the hostess left us and disappeared behind the curtain that separated the cabin from the kitchen and cockpit, I let my attention drift to my mistress. She was reading a book on her kindle. All her focus now on it, as she sat, legs crossed, every inch of her perfectly groomed. Not a single hair out of place.

As far as mistresses went, she was perfect for me. I had zero emotional connection to her, and she didn’t give a fuck about me. Not that I felt insulted by her cool indifference. The notion of any woman declaring her love or trying to worm her way into my life as more than a mistress was enough to make my skin crawl.

Women were disposable commodities to me. If I had no one in my life as my mistress, I was not above calling on the services of an escort. High end of course. No cheap, classless women who might set their sights on being more than what I paid them to be.

It might make me seem like a cold, arrogant asshole, but my main aim in life was to protect the Montgomery business and its ever-expanding portfolio.

My father had taught me well. He’d lectured me many times about never getting involved with a woman and giving her my heart, because they were all gold diggers who used their cunts and tits, while fluttering their fake eyelashes as they worked on separating a rich man from his money.

Plus I’d seen it. After mum died, my father had struggled without her. He’d been lonely and simply gave up on life for a while. The business began to suffer, but then he’d met Amber, the first of two considerably younger brides, and progressively they’d worked on separating him from his money. Their appetite for expensive clothes, shoes, jewellery, and endless rounds of plastic surgery, insatiable. Bigger tits. Bigger lips. Smaller waist. Smaller thighs. Brow lifts. Face lifts. By the time they were done, they were like walking, talking Barbie dolls.

They took my father from a man who was broken after mum died, to a man who was destroyed, after not one, but two gold diggers walked away with a portion of his wealth they had no right to, but no pre-nuptial agreements to stop them. He married because he was desperately lonely, and they married him because they spotted an easy target. 

They’d seen his vulnerability and exploited it, and I would never allow a woman to do that to me. Millions of dollars later, and the Montgomery name hanging on by a thread, my father had turned to alcohol as a coping mechanism for a while.

It was at that point, that at the age of nineteen, I’d stepped in and taken over the business. Determined to restore the reputation and good standing of the Montgomery name.

It had taken a long time, but I worked hard to improve our line of hotels. Adding more and more. Buying up more and more inner-city real estate that was turned into office space, as well as purchasing some nightclubs and bars.

Montgomery Enterprises had a sizable portfolio, and it owned a large chunk of the Sydney CBD. Not to mention  dabbling in computers and software development, which had also proven to be extremely lucrative, when one particular program took off, and was now used in businesses all around the world.

As business improved and the Montgomery name began to be associated with luxury, quality, and reliability, the value of it also increased. As did the number of women circling like hungry sharks. Their presence making me more determined that not a single one of them would ever get their hooks into me, or one damn cent of Montgomery money, unless given to them because they were being paid for their services.

Meredith was one of a string of mistresses I’d had over the years. They all knew the score. I provided them with an apartment. A more than generous allowance and an additional allowance that was to go towards clothing, hair, and makeup, since I expected any woman on my arm to be well dressed and impeccably attired.

A woman on my arm was an extension of me and therefore had to be perfectly groomed. She had to look elegant, classy and smile when necessary. I expected her to speak only when spoken to. Otherwise her job was simple. Meet my needs and be a pretty adornment.

I expected them to be available whenever and wherever I needed them. It wasn’t too much to ask given how handsomely they were paid for their services. Not to mention when our arrangement was over and I moved on, they got to keep the apartment and anything that was purchased for them over the time they were my mistress. Plus I continued to pay their allowance for one month after our time together ended. I figured that was enough time for them to find their feet and move on.

I knew my time with Meredith was drawing to an end. I wasn’t exactly cut out for long relationships and she had been my mistress for nearly five months now. When she couldn’t make my dick twitch at the sight of her dressed to perfection, then I knew I was losing interest.

This woman was a challenge to me, and I think that had always been the attraction. She was cold as ice. Incapable of caring about anyone but herself. She fulfilled her obligations as my mistress, and she did let me screw her whenever I felt the need, but it was as if she always held a part of herself back from me.

For that reason, I got off on messing her up through hot and dirty sex. Not messy, as in an exchange of bodily fluids, but messing up her perfectly groomed hair and smearing her makeup.

No woman’s cunt would ever be a receptacle for my seed. I never fucked without a condom. Although I did expect my mistresses to be on birth control. Usually the shot, or that reassuring little bar in the arm. Both of which I could monitor, to be sure they were covered, and I was protected from unwanted pregnancies. 

Perhaps one day I’d select a woman to bear my children, but it would be someone of my choice and suitable breeding. Not some gold digger who deliberately got herself knocked up to find a way of dipping into my considerable wealth.

Meredith was too cold and self-absorbed to try and pull a stunt like that on me. She hated children. She’d made  no secret of that fact. In fact, I don’t think I’d ever seen a woman practically condense herself to half her normal size if a child so much as came near her.

She would shudder and brush at her skin like something was crawling over it, so I felt quite confident that she would not attempt to trap me through an unwanted pregnancy.

The one thing about Meredith that was a contradiction to her ice queen persona, was her ability to give head the way she did. I think she actually preferred it to fucking, even though, I could get her off during sex. I just had to work hard for it,  and given I wasn’t one to shy away from hard work, or a challenge, I got off on trying to get her off.

I turned to look out the small round window of the plane, watching as the ground crew prepared the aircraft for take-off. Once we were airborne, Meredith would begin to earn her keep on this flight. Blowing down the back of her throat while her eyes streamed and her hair was mussed up, always worked as a perfect distraction for me. A way to forget momentarily at least that we were hurtling through the air in a large tin can.

Shifting my focus back to Meredith, she must have sensed my eyes on her and turned, the briefest of smiles touching her lips. Cupping myself through my expensive charcoal covered pants, I saw her attention shift to what my hand was doing, and she gave the barest dip of her chin, which was her way of acknowledging what I would expect of her shortly.

I was already partially erect. Not entirely due to the thought of lips wrapped around my dick soon, but annoyingly at least partially due to the stunning hostess that would be attending to my needs on this flight.

I felt a reluctant smile tug at my lips. Not all my needs though. Although the notion of destroying that perfect twist of ebony hair on the back of Indigo’s neck and fisting it while I shoved my cock to the back of her throat, did bring out a spark of something more primitive in me.

At that moment, the object of my thoughts drew my attention as she walked towards me with my scotch in her hand. A crisp white linen napkin sitting beneath the glass.

I tried not to let my eyes take in every inch of her, but it was difficult to deny them. She was as perfectly groomed as Meredith. Right down to  her polite smile as she placed the glass on the table next to me, the napkin under it.

As she straightened, the alluring scent of her perfume teased my nostrils, and before any rational thought could stop me, my hand flew out, grabbing her wrist.

Shock flared in her eyes, and a bolt of something like electricity shot through my fingers. Radiating out through my hand and wrist, startling me. I’d never had this sort of reaction from a simple touch, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it somewhat disconcerting. Determined not to let her see what affect touching her had on me, I began firing questions at her.

What is your surname? What nationality are you? You’re not Australian, are you?"

Something flashed in those deep purple eyes of hers, and I thought for a moment she was going to ignore me or walk away.

I’m not sure that it’s any of your business Mr Montgomery, but my surname is Barros. I’m Australian born, although my father is Spanish and came to Australia approximately forty years ago. He met my mother here. A couple of years after he became an Australian citizen. I hope that answers your questions, and if that’s all, I’ll leave you now. We should be taking off soon.

I released her when I suddenly realised I was still holding her wrist. I’m sorry. I murmured, although I wasn’t really. Forgive my curiosity as to your heritage. You have a unique look.

Confusion crossed her beautiful face before being replaced by a cool smile. "Thank you. Although describing someone as unique isn’t necessarily a compliment."

My eyes narrowed on her. In this case, it is. I said, before dismissing her by returning my attention to my laptop.

She got the message and turned, heading towards the front of the plane. It was a relief to see her go, but it pissed me off that I found myself watching over the top of the screen. Taking note of the sway of her hips and those amazing legs as she headed back towards the front of the plane. 

Chapter Two

Indigo

Mr Montgomery rattled me, and I didn’t like it. He was both intimidating and a bit of an enigma if I were honest with myself. He was also far too damn attractive for my peace of mind. Plus rich people were a little daunting anyway, and from what I’d heard about Mr Sebastian Colton Montgomery the 2nd, he was obscenely wealthy.

He wasn’t a millionaire. He was a billionaire. A fact my roommate Angel had been happy to scream at me repeatedly when she’d called me. Her and her boyfriend Adam had been on holidays, but on their way back, they’d had car troubles. With her stuck and unable to get back for this job, she’d asked me to work it for her. 

She was an air hostess too and we’d met during training close on seven years ago. We’d drifted in and out of contact with one another as she’d worked for one airline exclusively for a while, whereas I’d been with another.

It was only when we’d both become hostesses for private flights, that we’d met up again, and ended up sharing an apartment together.

Working as a kind of freelance hostess meant that work might not always be as consistent, but it paid far better. Chartered flights were mostly rich people wanting to be flown somewhere. Or a group of party goers who did a whip  around and raised enough money to hire their own plane for the occasion.

Mr Montgomery more than fell under the rich people category, but with someone who reportedly owned hotels all around the world and according to Angel owned half of inner Sydney, wouldn’t he have had his own fleet of planes?

Still, the reasons behind him hiring a plane were none of my business. I was just here to pamper the man and his girlfriend or whatever the cold bitch who accompanied him was. If that was his girlfriend, he probably had to chip icicles off his dick whenever they had sex.

Chuckling to myself at the craziness of my thoughts, I cleaned up the kitchen and began the take-off procedure which involved strapping down anything that could move and making sure all the latches to bulkheads, cupboards and drawers were all secure.

I’d flown on a lot of privately chartered planes, but none quite as luxurious as this one. It was a Bombardier BD-700 Global Express jet. This thing was like the penthouse of jets. Sure the layout wasn’t all that different to what I was used to, but this was just high end. Nothing but the best used in it.

It contained a large microwave/convection oven, a deep sink, a coffee urn that was more than big enough for several cups of coffee, and a custom-built fridge. Inside, it had various compartments that housed all the meals for each flight. Each meal premade, packaged and labelled so it was easy to see at a glance what meal it was. Not to mention it also held a selection of various drinks from bottled water to soft drinks, beers, and premixed alcoholic drinks.

The cupboards both upper and lower instead of being stainless steel finishes like I was used to, were a rich mahogany timber, polished to a near mirror shine. Only the countertop was stainless steel.

Behind the doors of one cupboard, I knew there was a selection of spirits and it was from it, that I’d poured Mr Montgomery’s scotch.

Another cupboard was full of glasses which were anchored by recesses they sat in to help minimise them falling and breaking during rough turbulence.

Before I’d finished my final checks prior to take-off, the light above the cockpit flashed which signalled the pilot and co-pilot wanted to see me. More than likely to give me any final instructions or information to pass on to our passengers.

Knocking once out of courtesy to the pilots, I didn’t wait for them to invite me in, before opening the door and stepping inside. The cockpit wasn’t that big. Certainly, nothing like the cockpits on the Jumbos or Airbuses.

It still had an overwhelming display of lights, buttons, and switches. Some flashing. Some alight. All meaningless to me. That’s why I wasn’t the one seated before them of course.

Hello Indy. Brad turned to smile at me. I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you doing?

I’m good. I wasn’t supposed to be working for this trip, but my flatmate and her boyfriend had car troubles and didn’t make it home in time for her to work. So, you got me instead of Angel. I grinned.

Well, it’s good to see you. Captain Bradley Jones smiled at me again. He’d been a commercial pilot for over twenty years. He was a good man. Married with three kids and a kind man who knew his way around a cockpit or two.

He’d started off working for the one airline, but these days, he preferred private flights like this. The money was good and nowhere near as stressful as handling a plane carrying several hundred passengers. Plus they were mostly domestic flights, so he wasn’t away from his family for days like he used to be on international flights.

Hey Indy. You’re looking exceptionally beautiful today. The warm, flirtatious voice from Mark was enough to draw my attention away from Bradley and onto him. 

Mark Campbell was the co-pilot for this run and had been flying for about fifteen years. He was an excellent pilot too, but a terrible flirt. Whenever we crossed paths, it was always the same. He tried to get me to go out to dinner with him.

I never accepted and I never would. I had one hard and fast rule. No mixing business with pleasure. I hadn’t been tempted to break that rule so far. I knew the kind of man Mark was. He was sweet and kind. He was funny and didn’t take life too seriously, but he was looking for a good time, not a relationship.

It didn’t matter anyway since I wasn’t attracted to him. Mark was cheeky. He was good looking, and he knew it. He had a never-ending repertoire of pickup lines, all as bad as the other.

Women loved him because he had that fresh faced, guy next door look about him, with his close-cropped blonde hair, blue eyes, and dimples, but I was  not one of those women.

I shot him a smile designed to be friendly, but not encourage him. I’m good Mark. You?

I’d be better if you’d agree to have dinner with me. He pouted, trying to  make me weaken.

Sorry. I shot him an apologetic smile, even though I wasn’t sorry at all. Once I return from Perth I’m on holidays for a couple of weeks and I’m going to spend the time with my mother. I smiled. Plus, you know I don’t get involved with anyone I work with.

Mark’s sigh was exaggerated. Yeah, I know, but you can’t blame a man for trying.

Indy can you go and warn our passengers we’re looking at a further ten-minute delay. The traffic’s heavy today. We’re in a queue. Hopefully, they’re patient. Bradley smiled.

Too bad if they’re not. I grinned before leaving the cockpit and heading back to the kitchen.

I checked my image in the small mirror near the coffee urn and when I could see not a single hair was out of place, I stepped around the curtain to see if Mr Montgomery or his companion Ms Carter needed anything else.

When I walked towards Mr Montgomery, his head came up from his laptop and his eyes locked on me. I shivered. The man was intimidating. Everything about him screamed elegance, class, and arrogance. The arrogance I was used to. Insanely rich people tended to be like that in my experience. A person like me, was little more than the hired help to them.

His eyes snared me, and I faltered on my way down the aisle to him. He’d commented on my eyes, but in all reality, his were unique too. Grey, but not just any grey. They were a silvery colour and something about them made me feel like he could see inside me.

When I reached him, I could see his glass was empty, so I bent down to pick it up, the delicious scent of his aftershave swirling around me as I straightened.

Can I get you anything else before we take off? I asked. Captain Bradley said there is a ten-minute delay due to heavy traffic. We will however be making our way out to the runway in a few minutes. We’re just in a queue which is unavoidable. I shot him what I hoped was an apologetic smile.

A flash of what looked like irritation crossed his face before it was gone again. Fine. He snapped the one word out, his focus returning to his laptop. Was he going to leave me hanging on my question as to whether he wanted anything else?

I hesitated, ready to repeat the question, but as if he could read my mind, his head rose, and those eyes snagged mine again.  Oh, another scotch. Thank you.

Trying not to roll my eyes in front of him, I turned away and walked towards his companion, but before I could so much as open my mouth, she snapped out the few words. Nothing for me. Those icy cold blue eyes of hers glancing off me briefly before she turned her attention back to her kindle.

Making every effort to keep my expression from revealing just how much their rude behaviour pissed me off,  I continued on to the kitchen to get Mr Montgomery his second glass  of scotch. Seriously, did money mean that manners and basic decency disappeared with every zero they added to their bank balance? Was being unbelievably rude a system of hierarchy? The wealthier a person was, the greater the loss of manners.

Once it was poured I returned it to him, just as the man was getting to his feet. There was a lot of him too, and if I’d thought him intimidating sitting, he was even more so, standing.

Well over six feet tall, he towered over me, and I wasn’t exactly short. At five feet eight, plus three inches on my heels, I still barely made it to the man’s shoulders.

Everything on him was large. From his big hands with long fingers, to his large feet, covered by an expensive looking pair of black leather loafers. Yet for all his height and size, he was  not thick set, or excessively bulky. Although I could tell from what I saw of him that he took care of himself.

He had thick dark hair that he wore swept back off his face. A hint  of grey already showing at his temples. Nothing more than a light sprinkling so far though, which made me curious about his age. Men could be hard to read when it came to age though. He didn’t look really young, but he wasn’t an old man either. The greying could be a premature thing. It was common enough. 

His jaw was already covered in the classic five o’clock shadow, despite it being morning still. He was probably a two shaves a day kind of man to rein  in that prolific facial growth of his.

He possessed the classic broad shoulders that featured so often in romance books. Draped in an expensive three-piece charcoal suit, with a crisp white shirt and lilac tie. The man was the optimum of masculine grace and beauty. 

The jacket fitted his wide shoulders to perfection, but money made that sort of thing possible of course. It would have been tailor made, just for him. No sullying himself with a suit off the rack I bet.

The pants that he wore, cinched at the waist with a matching charcoal coloured belt showcased those long legs of his. The belt and his vest highlighted the fact that he had narrow hips and a flat stomach. From head to toe, he was gorgeous. There was no denying it.

I wasn’t used to filthy rich assholes who looked like him. They were usually middle-aged men or even senior men, but in most cases, travelling with a considerably younger woman hanging off their arm. Angel and I liked to joke about those rich old men with their girlfriends who could pass for their granddaughters. They were there because they loved them. Their money that is.

Shaking my head to clear it, I glanced out the window and noticed we had moved closer to taking off, but there were still a few more aircraft ahead of us.

Can I get you anything else before we take off? I asked.

Nothing. Thank you. I just need to use the bathroom.

Oh. I regained my composure and pointed towards the front of the plane. The affect this man had on me was unsettling. It’s just to the left of the main cabin door. I told him.

There was a bathroom in the bedroom too, but I wasn’t telling him about that now. He could figure that one out for himself if he took Ms Carter to it later. He’d chartered a plane with a bedroom. He’d brought a woman with him. Of course he was going to use it.

He nodded. Yes, I know. I saw it when I was boarding.

Ok then. I smiled up at him, before we began a bit of a dance where I moved out of his way so he could get past me.

Lucky this plane had a wide aisle, but it was still unnerving having him pass by so close, and for him to leave more of that delicious aftershave he was wearing in his wake.

Once he disappeared behind the small lavatory door, I made my way back to the kitchen and sat down on one of the two seats allocated for the hostesses during take off and landing.

While I stared out the window as the plane continued to make its way out towards the runway, the door to the bathroom opened and Mr Montgomery stepped out. He paused when he saw me, one hand coming up to smooth over his still perfectly groomed hair, before he walked away, heading for his seat.

I let out the breath I’d been holding and went back to staring out the window. The sooner we got off the ground and landed in Perth, the better. I could jump on a flight and return home.

Now that we were moving ever closer to the runway, I could begin the emergency procedure for my passengers. Reaching up into the bulkhead above my seat, I pulled out the life jacket and made my way back to where Mr Montgomery and  his companion sat.

SEBASTIAN

My head turned away from the window where I’d been watching the aircraft’s progress as we headed out to take off, when a flash of navy blue out the corner of my eye, drew my attention. She was carrying a life jacket, so it was apparently time  for the safety procedure I’d had to sit through many times before. I rarely paid attention. Maybe that was lax of me, but personally I’d never understood why we were shown the emergency procedure using a life jacket, even on flights that were only over land.

While I tuned out what she was saying as she demonstrated how to put the life jacket on, plus the various things attached to it, I watched her. I watched the way she moved, even when pointing to the emergency exits, her arms stretched  out either side of her.

She really was an attractive woman. From that ebony black hair to those stunning eyes. Perky tits and waist so tiny, I bet I could span it with my hands. Slim thighs and long legs made her as a whole, absolute perfection.

My teeth came together hard, causing a tic in my jaw. I didn’t like that I found her attractive. Desirable. I especially didn’t like that my cock stirred the longer I watched her. At least if I had to give into my baser instincts and get a hard on over the air hostess, I had Meredith to relieve my sexual frustration with those pouty lips of hers.

When Indigo finished the emergency procedure and disappeared behind the curtain again, it was a relief. My dick was hard enough that it was forming a tent in my pants, which luckily, the laptop hid. Still, the minute we were off the ground, I would be calling over Meredith to come and blow my fucking mind, so any unwanted lustful thoughts about Indigo would be wiped away.

The air hostess. I snorted to myself. I would never get involved with someone like her. She’d been nothing but professional so far, but I’d heard about what some pilots and hostesses got up to. Plenty of indiscriminate sex due to loose morals. Half of them were probably walking STD’s.

No. Ms Indigo Barros was definitely in the look but don’t touch category. Meredith might be a cold fish in comparison to what Ms Barros might be like, but I knew her history, her breeding, and I knew she was clean. All mistresses had to produce the relevant paperwork from their doctor proving it was so.

The object of my thoughts chose that moment to step around the curtain again as the plane lurched forward, creeping ever closer to the runway.

When the hell do we take off? I snapped, my frustration over my reaction to her, the delay getting airborne and the need to have Meredith’s lips around my dick causing me to lash out.

We’re taxiing out to the runway now Mr Montgomery. Please both of you remain seated and your seat belts fastened. I will return to see if you need anything once we’re in the air.

Don’t rush." I growled. I didn’t want her coming through and interrupting us once Meredith’s special brand of therapy began.

Something flashed in Indigo’s eyes and was gone again. I’ll be going to take my seat now. She said, before leaving us and heading back to the front of the plane.

My eyes helplessly and reluctantly tracking the sway of her hips until she disappeared behind the curtain. Once she was gone, I turned back to the window, watching as we approached the runway, stopping at the end of it.

My heart began to pound. We were about to take off, and the familiar tension began tightening my stomach. My hands  balling into fists on the armrests of my seat.

You like that woman. Meredith’s voice drew my attention away from the window.

What woman? I snapped.

One dark blonde brow rose. You know who I’m talking about.  The hostess.

Don’t be absurd. I spat the words out as if they’d left a bad taste in my mouth. Remember why you’re here, and it certainly isn’t for polite conversation.

Again that dark blonde brow rose, but she remained silent. She knew that her only purpose here was to keep me calm. That I could take everything away from her with a snap of my fingers if she pissed me off. All I required of her was to be at my beck and call and do what she was told. She’d come out of it quite handsomely when I called it quits with her. A situation I no longer considered a possibility, but a certainty when we got back to Sydney.

The plane turned, facing the long stretch of tarmac it would soon be hurtling along and again, my stomach flipped over. God I hated this weakness in me. Scared of fucking flying. A Montgomery wasn’t scared of anything. That I allowed this fear to have any kind of control over me, pissed me off.

The engines began to rev, and my fear grew with the ever-increasing pitch of them. A small lurch forward signalled the plane was