Make Me (Editing)

five (edited)

Just six weeks after touching down at JFK, we were back at the airport, the anticipation of Marcus' arrival absolutely eating me alive.

On top of the fact that I still hadn't had that conversation with my boyfriend, I was immensely stressed after a certain confrontation I'd had with my exasperating boss. Not even five minutes after I'd saved his butt in his consultation with the bigwig investor, Mr Gray had called me into his office and completely discredited all that I had just done for him.

"If I had needed your help, I would have asked for it myself," he'd snapped.

"It's not like I was jumping at the opportunity, Mr Gray. The man asked me a question. I simply answered it."

"Ha," he'd laughed, as though he'd found humour in my words. "You call that 'answering a question'? More like 'desperately flirting' if you ask me."

"How dare you!" I'd been fuming by that point. "If it wasn't for my responses, who knows if the deal would have even been signed. Just be thankful, for once in your life, that someone has your back, and stop trying to boost that little ego of yours. It's clearly big enough already."

"The deal would have been signed irrespective of your presence in the room," he'd snarled, conveniently changing the topic. "You can't take the credit for that."

"I'm not, sir. And I never would. You'd probably be able to see that if it weren't for your filthy pride."

It was at that point that I'd left the conversation, as well as my boss's office, and had headed home for the day. Despite it being only three o'clock in the afternoon, a considerable two hours short of my scheduled clock-off, there was no way that I could have stayed in that imbecile's presence any longer.

It was now nearing midnight, and as the new day dawned, I was determined not to let my mood carry over and ruin this one too. I wouldn't let Mr Gray have that power.

"Which gate was it again?" Becca asked, studying the overhead signs.

"Gate three I think," I checked my phone to make sure. Mason had texted all of his flight details to me, knowing full well that the two of us would get madly lost without having them on hand. "Yep, gate three."

We headed towards the international arrival terminal and located the third gate, taking a seat in the waiting area. There were quite a crowd of people waiting there for their loved ones, obstructing our vision of main entrance.

As expected, the aircraft carrying my beloved boyfriend touched down roughly half an hour later. After a few minutes of very little action, the passenger boarding bridge was finally extended out and connected to the side of the plane, enabling the passengers to exit. Sure enough, a steady stream of people began to emerge through the automatic glass doors, being greeted passionately by their waiting friends and family.

"Marcus," I all but whispered to myself as I spotted him in the group, his eyes actively searching the room. I ran towards him, lunging myself at his large frame.

"Omph," he grunted from the impact as I wrapped my arms around him tightly, as if I'd never let him go. "Oh Ally, I've missed you so much."

He dropped his bags and wrapped his large hands around my face, attaching his lips to mine as if his life depended on it.

"Mmmm," I moaned, savouring the feeling of his touch. "Not as much as I've missed you."