[THIS BOOK CONTAINS MATURE THEMES WHICH IS ACCEPTABLE FOR 18+ READERS ONLY]
"Yes?" His deep voice growls. It's so deep, so velvety. I can feel myself getting aroused. Aroused in ways I've never felt before.
"I was told to come and speak to you abou...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Jackson Blake's POV
We pull up and what sits in front of me knocks me sick, my face pale as the blood runs from it and my body is stuck like it's glued to the seat. I can't get on it, no way.
"Ain't no way. You're having me on, I'm not doing it. I'm not getting on that death trap." I cry out, panic rising in my tone as I clench my seatbelt, frozen in the cold leather of the Bugatti. Plane's are not for me. I've never been on one and I intend to keep it that way. Slater ignores me and exits the car, coming round to my side and yanking me out of the car. I resist with everything in me, my heels digging into the concrete of the runway whilst I swing all of my weight into the opposite direction of the plane, but he's strong. Way too strong. It's inhuman. He's stuck to the ground like a boulder, and as he gets fed up with my antics, he grips my waist and throws me over his shoulder. "No, please, seriously put me down," I beg, trying to wriggle from his grip. I can only be described as petrified.
He continues to ignore me. It's like he's punishing me, torturing me for my behaviour. I should be scared of what happens to me when I arrive, I'll probably meet my death there anyway. He lugs me up the steps and into the plane, my cries of protest and screams of complaint not going unheard. The private plane is beautiful inside but it by no means relaxes me. He takes me to the furthest end of the plane and shoves me in the seat, forcing me into it and refusing to let me leave. I'm so frantic I can't even take in my surrounding, his glare keeping me in place as my breathing is laboured. He keeps his attention on me, making sure I don't dart for the door, whilst taking the seat beside me and opening up a laptop.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Put your belt on. The waitress is bringing you sleeping pills," he mutters whilst his head in an excel spreadsheet. As if on cue, the waitress comes through with a glass of whisky which is set down in front of Slater and a glass of water with a single white pill in front of me. I quickly take the pill and after ten seconds I stand up.
"Nope it's not working I'm leaving" I rush out, my tone anxious but Slater's having none of it.
"Sit down now." He growls, his glare pointed and I'm in my seat without a second thought. I strap on the seatbelt and curl my legs up into myself. I can do this. I can do this. I repeat the mantra over and over, trying desperately to calm myself. Soon enough my body starts to slump. These sleeping pills are good...maybe a little too good. Oh god, what if it wasn't a sleeping pill? I don't get the chance to contemplate it as my body relaxes and my mind drifts to sleep.
