Sexy as Hell Box Set (53 page)

I tapped my fingers against the plush armrest and sipped a glass of champagne. The lone air hostess glanced at myself and Catherine then checked her wristwatch.

Where the hell was Ollie? Typical of my cousin to be late. We were on a tight schedule. If the plane missed its take-off slot it could be hours before another one opened up. These were busy skies.

Maybe I’d just leave him behind in London. That would serve him right. And, boy, just think of the trouble he’d be in with his new Mistress. No, on second thoughts, I didn’t want that on my conscience.

“Oh, this is just wonderful,” Catherine said, taking a hefty slug of her drink. “The seats are so comfortable, and all this space.” She gestured around.

The plane always reminded me of a thin lounge with tables and large, cream leather chairs facing each other.

“It’s more like being in a luxury hotel than on a plane.” She smiled.

“I’m glad you like it,” I said with a return smile and through the window watched the mechanics pulling away now that the plane had been re-fuelled.

“Sorry, Victor. So sorry we’re late.” Ollie appeared in the doorway, his head stooped, his wide shoulders filling the space.

“Should be okay,” I said, keeping the irritation from my tone. He was here now so what was the point of raising my blood pressure and having a go at him? “Come in, take a seat.”

Ollie came down the aisle, walking a little stiffly, I thought. Perhaps he’d had another beating from his new woman.

The woman I was just about to meet.

“Well, isn’t this the best.”

A familiar voice had a Pavlov effect on my heart and it romped up a pace. It couldn’t be. No. Surely not. It was a trick of my senses.

Strutting down the aisle, hips swaying, long hair flowing and sassy boots tapping came Zara bloody Watson.

I closed my eyes. Took a deep breath. It was my imagination playing a trick on me. That was the only explanation. I’d dreamt of Zara last night, had a luscious few fantasy hours thinking we were together, in the desert losing ourselves in the sand dunes and then finding refuge in a tent where we explored one another’s bodies and did unspeakable things to each other. Things we’d only done together, with no one else. She’d worn that collar, too, throughout the whole dream.

I reopened my eyes. Shit. It wasn’t my imagination. Zara was there and she was staring straight at me. Her mouth had fallen open and her eyes were wide. She flicked her hair over her shoulders in a gesture I’d seen a hundred times and then touched her fingers to her lips.

“Victor?” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I have chartered this plane, Zara, so it makes sense I’m on it.” I shifted my attention to Ollie, who was lowering himself onto a seat, gripping the arms as he tentatively let his buttocks come to rest. He’d had a beating all right. And now I knew exactly by whom.

“Ollie?” I said, cocking my head and clenching my teeth. A burning wave of anger was beginning to brew within me.

“Do you two know each other?” Catherine asked, smiling broadly between Zara and myself and apparently oblivious to the tension that had just swept through the fuselage.

“Yes,” Zara said, sitting heavily in the chair next to Ollie and facing Catherine. “We do.” She turned to Ollie. “I had no idea. When you said you’d found us a holiday to go on with another couple, I never thought you meant your cousin and his beautiful lady.”

Ollie grinned, took an offered glass of champagne. “Won’t it just be the most fun? And Tuscany, too, just like you wanted.”

“Well yes, but…” Zara leant forward. Concern lay heavy in her eyes, and she knotted her fingers in her lap. “Victor, we can just leave now. I had no clue that when Ollie planned this trip it involved you. Really, I don’t want to make things awkward.” She glanced at Catherine then back at me.

Damn, she was pretty. No, not pretty, beautiful. But beautiful in a dark, mysterious, seductive way. All black hair, deep eyes and blood-red lips. Her skin looked so smooth, and I remembered the feel of it against mine, the softness, the scent. My anger began to abate. I wasn’t angry with her. Just bloody Ollie.

And I didn’t want to send Zara away. This was the first time I’d seen her in over a month, smelt her sultry, spiced perfume, relished the way her presence set every one of my nerves on high alert.

“Awkward? Why ever would it be awkward?” Catherine asked.

“Victor and I had a couple of dates last year,” Zara said. “Before Ollie and I started seeing each other.” She smiled sweetly at Catherine.

“Oh, well, a couple of dates, hardly married with kids.” Catherine laughed. “I don’t see why it should be awkward.” She turned to me. “Do you, Victor?”

“No, well, I’m okay with it if Zara is.”

Zara reached for Ollie’s hand, embraced it in her own. “I’m with Ollie now,” she said. “And I’ve got my Mr Partridge exactly where I want him.” She smiled and tipped her head, making her hair sweep down over her the rise of her breasts, the shape of which were perfectly showcased in the tight leather jacket she wore.

I felt that rush of irritation sweep through me again. Damn Ollie, I’d known he’d liked her right from the first time he’d seen her in the coffee shop. And what had he done? He’d hunted her down after our split and no doubt begged her to take him on as her new student.

That’s what he’d told me. That he was learning to be a sub and his Mistress was beating him and satisfying him. That was Zara’s speciality, after all. Being a Dominatrix.

Jesus, had she let Ollie fuck her? Up her arse? Surely not. I just couldn’t imagine it. Didn’t want to.

Nausea swept through me as I smiled politely at the air hostess who was checking we all had sufficient champagne.

“The captain said we’ll be on our way in the next couple of minutes,” she said. “I’m going to take my seat for take-off if you have everything you need.”

“Yes, perfect thanks.” Great, so this was it. My longed-for break away with Catherine, where I planned to explore her deviant side—if she had one—and use my sex shop purchases was now going to involve the biggest seductress of them all. On top of that, Ollie looking like the cat who’d got the cream for the entire week. I wasn’t sure if I could stand it.

I glared at him. Bastard. Lying to me and keeping the fact that Zara was his Mistress a secret. I pressed my lips together, wanting answers but knowing they’d just create questions for Catherine. And I didn’t want that. I needed to keep her in the dark about the extent of my BDSM knowledge and desires for a little while longer.

Maybe only until tonight, though. Yes, then I’d fuck her good and hard. Sod anyone else hearing us. Zara knew full well how I sounded when I was enjoying rough sex, and Ollie, well, I couldn’t give a shit what he thought.

Yes, tonight I’d fuck Catherine and try not to think about Ollie fucking Zara. Maybe I’d even take Catherine up the arse, if the mood took me that way. That was an overdue box that needed ticking.

The plane began to move, taxied out towards the runway and then waited, engine’s rumbling, for the go-ahead to take off.

“So how long have you two been seeing each other?” Catherine asked Zara.

“Oh, about a month,” Zara replied.

“Five weeks,” Ollie said.

Zara shot him a look, and I knew full well he’d pay for that comment later. Zara didn’t like to be corrected. I hoped she had a paddle packed, or even better, a flogger.

Ollie’s lips flattened, and he shifted on the seat. He really did have ants in his pants. I glanced at his groin.

Bloody hell.

I’d put money on the fact that he had a hard-on. Seriously. This was what I’d have to put up with for the week? His cock straining for Zara’s attention at all times?

“We met in a coffee shop,” Zara said. “Our eyes connected over a latte and a cappuccino and the rest is history.” She laughed and Catherine joined in. “What about you two?” Zara asked. “How did you meet?”

“Oh, my aunt works for Victor. Well, actually she organises him, doesn’t she?” She smiled fondly at me.

I tried not to frown and instead nodded and rechecked my seatbelt.

“Mary, that’s my aunt,” Catherine said, “just knew we would be perfect for each other. A match made in Heaven, she said. And then when we met up, just before Christmas, we soon realised she was right, didn’t we, Victor baby? And we’ve been inseparable ever since.”

Victor baby? She’d never called me that before. Jesus, I thought I preferred The Virgin.

The plane suddenly thrust forward. I was pressed back into my chair and stared out of the window as the ground raced past and the terminal building grew smaller. Within seconds we were rocketing upwards, heading into the clouds.

“Oh, this is so exciting,” Catherine said. A giggle bursting with both nerves and delight escaped her mouth.

“Wonderful,” Zara said. “I never thought I’d travel in such style. Truly decadent.”

I stared at her. She was smiling at me. It was a hard smile to read. She didn’t seem concerned about the fact that she was sharing her holiday with me. To be honest, she seemed pretty chilled. But didn’t she always? That was the thing about Zara. She was a dominant personality. She thrived on control, being in charge. She wouldn’t be worried about me.

Or would she?

I was the one man who had dominated her. Made her wear my collar, spanked her gorgeous arse, taken her to a place where she had cried and shook with ecstasy and had needed me to hold her together and then bring her down.

I shifted my attention from her. Gazed out of the window as the plane breached the clouds and brilliant blue sky came into view.

The plane flattened out and the seatbelt sign flicked off. The air hostess stood and bustled around in the small kitchen area, no doubt organising the canapés that were all part of the service.

“So, Ollie,” Catherine said, “is there anything in Tuscany you particularly want to see or do?”

“Yes, actually, there is.” He looked at Zara, and damn, the longing coming off him was almost palpable.

She crossed then uncrossed her legs. Let go of his hand and delved into her enormous handbag. For a moment I wondered if she was about to produce a paddle, but she didn’t, she withdrew a lipstick and expertly smeared her lips with glossy red, not needing a mirror.

“What would you like to see?” Catherine asked.

“Something rare and beautiful,” Ollie said, still staring at Zara.

I wanted to shove my fingers down my throat and puke. Get it over and done with. I’d never seen Ollie so pathetic. So lust addled.

Damn, was that how I’d been when I was with Zara? No, I didn’t think so. I’d stayed in control, kind of, let her have her way, but I’d also claimed my own. Sure, she’d beaten me, but I’d beaten her too. And yes, I would definitely say she’d shocked me, fucked me, made me go to places I’d never even dreamed of going. But had I worn such a drippy expression? No, I liked to think I hadn’t.

“Oh, me too,” Catherine said. “Perhaps we could have a trip out to Florence, it’s only a couple of hours from the villa. We could all make a day of it.”

“That sounds lovely,” Zara said, dropping her lipstick into her bag. “Though I should warn you, as this is mine and Ollie’s first trip away together, we’ll be spending the majority of our week in bed.” She reached over and gripped Ollie’s thigh. “I can hardly keep my hands off him.”

Ollie tensed and I could just imagine how his cock would be filling at the promised words.

“But I’m sure you and Victor will be the same,” Zara said. “Seeing as you’re in love and lust too.”

I stared at Zara. She was watching for my reaction, I could tell. I wished I’d never told her all about my disastrous sex with Catherine. Jesus, one mention of the theatre and my going down on her and Catherine would be inconsolable.

“
Er, well, I was hoping to do some exploring.” Catherine looked wary and glanced at me.

I reached for her hand, clasped it in mine, hoping to reassure her. “We can do whatever you want to,” I said. “This is a much-needed break away for all of us.”

“Tell me about it.” Zara gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’ve been so busy with my new business, the late nights, the employees who just don’t seem to toe the line no matter how much I beat them.” She rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Oh, what do you do?” Catherine asked.

“I run a late-night theatre.” Zara let go of Ollie and crossed her arms. “Catering to more unusual tastes.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“It is, and incredibly satisfying. Perhaps we’ll chat more about it over a glass of Pinot this week.”

“Yes,” Catherine said. “I’d be interested to hear the details, and bring on the Pinot, that’s what I say.”

“Mmm, talking of hearing details.” Zara turned to Ollie then back to Catherine. “I hope in this villa there’s a room we can use that will be out of earshot from neighbours.”

“Oh, there are no neighbours for miles around,” Catherine said, “that is the charm of the place. Why? Do you want to listen to loud music or something?”

“No, nothing like that.” Zara smiled at Catherine. “I just hope you won’t mind hearing Ollie’s cries of pleasure and pain. He’s got a busy week ahead of him, and I’ve packed my whip and handcuffs to make sure he has just the best time ever. A holiday he’ll remember for years to come.”