One Weekend with the Billionaire novel Chapter 28

In the car on the way to our destination, I cannot take my eyes off of Braxton, and he cannot take his hands off of me. He is polite, always. Careful of my modesty and boundaries, but I don’t mind. He can touch me wherever he likes. One arm is wrapped around my waist where his fingers rub and caress me through my shirt. His other hand is on my knee where it massages up my thigh. He kisses me frequently, and I can’t help but feel like the most important woman in the world.

The trip isn’t far, which is a good thing, because if it was much further, our kisses might’ve turned into something else. I’ve never been with a man in the back of a car before, but since the windows are tinted and we are alone, I can envision what it would be like, especially with Braxton. Maybe I will be lucky enough to find out later, but for now, I am content to kiss him and feel his touch.

When we arrive, the driver gets out and opens the door. I grab my bag off of the floorboards and loop my arm through it before I get out, Braxton never letting go of my hand as he gets out, too. It is then that I realize where we are. I am standing on asphalt at a small airport, a huge jet across the way from us. My eyes bulge as I attempt to wrap my mind around this situation. "Is that… yours?" I ask him.

"Your chariot awaits, my lady," Braxton says, making a flourish with his free hand.

I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been on an airplane before. Even though we moved from a town far away from the city, we traveled by car. On our honeymoon, which also wasn’t much to speak of, we took the train. Now, here I am, standing at the airport, staring at a luxurious jet. It belongs to Braxton just as much as the car we’ve just exited belongs to him. I can’t fathom how much it must’ve cost, but that’s of no concern to him, so it can’t be to me either. He gently pulls me toward the plane, and my feet start to move, even though I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that I’ll be getting on the plane. I still don’t know where we are going, but I don’t even care, as long as Braxton is there with me.

He ushers me up the stairs into the plane. There are about six rows of seats, all of them plush leather, with carpeting on the floor and large television screens at the front of the plane where a door leads to the cabin, I imagine. I look behind me and see more doors. "There’s a bedroom and a bathroom back there," Braxton explains, pointing to the doors in the back. "We won’t be traveling that long, though," he assures me.

I am a little disappointed that we won’t have time to check out the bed, but I am still too shy to say something like that to him. Instead, I follow him to the front left seats, and we sit down. "This is amazing," I say to him as he tucks my bag under the seat. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to have my own plane.

He helps me buckle my seatbelt and then a woman in a knee-length skirt in navy blue, with a matching jacket, and a white button-down shirt comes through the door. She is probably in her mid-forties, with short blonde hair and a friendly smile. "Good morning, Mr. Merriweather, Ms. Thompson. We are prepared to take off in about five minutes. Can I get you anything?"

"Julia, this is Priscilla. She’ll be our flight attendant. We’ll be in the air for a little less than an hour, but if you need anything at all, she’s here to serve you."