I froze, trying to calibrate everything he was saying. I wasn’t a morning person, especially after more than a few good rounds of fucking someone during the night and early morning.
“Shit!” I grabbed my panties and wriggled into them. I raced to the front of the jet before Bastian could stop me and found the pilot lounging at the front of the control area. “Can you get us back to the airport in thirty? I have to get home. I think Chet was sending a limo for us. I need to get an Uber back to the hotel.”
He almost fell out of his seat when he turned and saw me in underwear. His wide eyes popped up but within a second they’d flicked back down before Bastian appeared with a sheet and wrapped it around my body.
“Get us back soon, huh?” he said before turning me around and pushing me back toward the private room of the jet.
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the sheet, I guess.”
“Better to not scare my pilot,” he murmured, his voice calm, calculating. Almost accommodating. This Bastian was nothing like the one last night who told me to bend over.
“I have to meet Linny back at the hotel,” I explained.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“Well…” I hesitated and glanced out a window. “No, but it feels like it’s late.”
“It feels, Morina?” He chuckled as we re-entered the private suite.
“Yes.” I pulled the sheet tighter, thankful to be covered while I took time to locate my pants. I didn’t need to though. They were folded on the bed where they hadn’t been a minute ago.
I slid my pants and crop top on. “Well, what time is it?”
He glanced at his gold watch. “It’s 8AM.”
I hummed. “Okay, my check out is at eleven. So, we’ll be fine.”
“I could have driven you home,” he said, almost to himself.
“God, no,” I blurted out. Rude. I winced. “I mean, it’s just, I… this was fun.”
“Fun?” He chuckled and lifted a dark brow.
I studied him while he studied me.
Bastian Armanelli was a sight in the middle of a dark night in a suit, a vision on a plane with that suit unbuckled and me on my knees, and he was beautiful watching the sunrise on an island standing with me in the sand. Yet, Bastian with bed head and no shirt on first thing in the morning was a priceless work of art that would be sought after for centuries to come. Women would have called him timeless with his sculpted muscles, strong jaw, full head of dark hair, and broad, strong shoulders. I wanted to lick every part of him.
Instead, I looked away. “Yes, it was fun. I don’t think we could have much more fun than we did, though, right?”
“You so sure?” Ah, there was the real man. He dropped the controlled mask he wore so well and his eyes grazed up and down my body. “For someone who rode my cock all night and screamed my name, you’re sure in a hurry to get back to your regular schedule programming,piccola ragazza.”
I took a deep breath, trying not to be tempted by the Italian falling from his lips. “Bastian, night’s over. Can’t call me that anymore.”
He chuckled. “So, I shouldn’t expect that daddy nickname to continue either?”
I face planted into my palm. “Oh, God. Please, let’s not talk about the night.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s over? I don’t normally have to do this morning exchange.” I straightened my clothes as the jet moved. “And we’re headed back to civilization where you go back to where you came from, and I go back to where I came from.”
“You’re very territorial of this little hometown, aren’t you?”
“Isn’t everyone territorial of their home?”
He thought about it for a minute, and we let the plane take us high into the sky in those moments. The flight attendant didn’t have the audacity to come back and tell us to put our seat belts on. Thankfully, the pilot seemed to navigate the skies well.
“I guess I’m territorial of what I own. A home could potentially be a part of that.”