I stared, shaking Braxton’s hand, then Case’s. I noticed neither man addressed Zeke, nor did he acknowledge them.
That was interesting.
“And you are?” Case prompted when he released me.
I felt my cheeks warm. “Clarissa Tinsley. A … uh … business associate of Trent’s.”
Braxton’s light green eyes twinkled as though he knew an inside joke I wasn’t privy to.
“Mr. Ramsey’s car just arrived,” Jill informed us as she set a steaming mug on a small table that was banked by leather chairs on each side.
I noticed she didn’t offer to get either man anything.
“Thank you,” I told her, although I wasn’t sure whether I was thanking her for the coffee or the update.
Braxton and Case both moved deeper into the cabin while I leaned over and glanced out the window, wanting to get a glimpse of Trent before he stepped onto the plane. He was walking with two men. From this distance, I couldn’t make out their features, but I could tell by the way the shorter one moved that it was Troy.
My thoughts drifted back to last night. To dinner with the two of them. Despite it being somewhat awkward, I couldn’t deny that I’d enjoyed myself. While Trent put me on edge, I found Troy to be like a balm for the soul.
A few seconds later, I heard Jill greeting them.
“Good morning, Mr. Ramsey. Mr. Shelton. Mr. Bishop. The pilot is preparing for departure. We’ve got about five minutes before takeoff. Can I get you anything?”
“I’ll be fine until we’re in the air, Jill, thank you.” Trent’s rich baritone echoed through the confined space.
I watched the front of the plane and tried to hide my body’s absurd reaction to the man when he appeared. Like usual, Trent was sporting an expensive suit, perfectly tailored to flatter him from head to toe. This one was a light gray, the sapphire tie setting off his eyes.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted when he stopped a few feet away from where I stood, doing my absolute best not to fidget.
“Good morning, Mr. Ramsey,” I said, trying to keep my tone professional. This was a business trip, after all.
The smirk he offered said he saw right through me. He closed the gap between us, his eyes pinning me in place as I stared up at him, refusing to look away. My breath hitched when I felt the warmth of his body against my breasts. I inhaled deeply, his intoxicating scent making my mind go blank momentarily.
I’d thought about this man nonstop for the past week, and it seemed no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t prepare myself to be in his presence.
I held my breath as he leaned down … down … down.
The kiss that followed said Trent knew exactly what he was doing to me. Oh, it wasn’t anything alarming, just a soft peck on the lips, his hands sliding up my arms as he drew me in closer to him, but it was enough to have my body warming significantly.
When his lips released mine, he shifted so that our cheeks brushed. His voice lowered when he spoke, his lips close to my ear. “You may call me Sir or Master. Whatever your preference, sunshine.”
I couldn’t hide the shiver that danced over me at the gruffly implied sentiment.
When he pulled back, I stared up into those mesmerizing blue eyes, feeling myself getting lost in them. I knew I shouldn’t, but it was hard not to.
“Yes, Master Ramsey.”
His eyes narrowed as his hands fell away. “You’re not a club submissive, pet. Drop the surname.”
“Yes … Master.” It came out breathlessly but that was because, for me, the term Master meant so much more. And I knew Trent was aware of that as well.
I’d never called any of the Doms I’d played with by that particular honorific. Even Shane, who had not only been my Dom but also my very good friend. I’d referred to him, as well as all the others, as Sir. Strangely enough, Trent didn’t feel like a Sir to me.
Trent seemed pleased by the acknowledgement, but he turned, motioning for Troy to join us.
“It’s nice to see you again.” Troy’s voice was as deep as I remembered. An octave deeper than Trent’s, in fact.
Troy looked slightly different this morning. Gone was the bewildered expression from last evening. In its place, he had a serious countenance, one that said he was here to work.
“You, as well,” I said as he took my hand and squeezed gently, a smile transforming him from merely handsome to incredibly attractive. While his clothes spoke of comfort—a pair of nice jeans and a white polo that accentuated his bronzed skin—his eyes said he was far more confident today than yesterday.
I tore my gaze away, looking back at the famous Dom standing before me.
“I’m not sure you’ve met Ransom Bishop. He’s Troy’s bodyguard for the foreseeable future.”
