Free Billionaire's Wondrous Flight to Paradise (A BDSM Erotica Story) by Jenevieve DeBeers Page B

"Hey, did you bring the costumes?"
                Hilary closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  He always did that to her, driving her crazy by abruptly changing the subject.  She knew what he wanted.  Curtis had a major super heroine fetish.  He was constantly asking her to dress up as one super heroine or another, wanting to play act out him capturing her.  And then doing very wicked, sexy things to her.  Mostly tying her up and screwing her stupid.
                "Yes.  I brought five," she said.  "But what…"
                "The Wondrous Woman costume?"
                She shook her head.  He was obsessed with that raven-maned comic book icon.  Sometimes she wondered if her resemblance to Wondrous Woman was the only reason he was interested in her.  To please him she'd had a baker's dozen sexy variations of the costume tailor-made.  His two favorite versions were in her carry-on luggage in the jet's bedroom.
                "Yes.  It's your favorite, so of course I'm bringing it," she said.  "In fact, I'm bringing two — "
                She was interrupted by another slurp, followed by a barely discernible moan.  By a woman.
                "Man, I can't wait.  Hey, baby, I have to go.  The director's asking for me back on set," he said, and ended the call before she could respond.
                Hilary stared at the phone in her hand.  She was not the jealous type, but that was bad.  Curtis had never given her cause to suspect him of cheating before, but he was a man with strong sexual urges and needs.  And they had been apart for a painfully long time.
                Thomas cleared his throat, interrupting her reverie.  Her hand tightened around the iPhone as her baby blues rose up to hold his eyes a long second.
                "Ms Ashworth, this is Jamal Bryant.  He wishes to speak with you," Thomas said.  He was head of her airport security team, charged with guarding the jet while she was home in New York City.  "He claims to know you."
                Jamal Bryant looked familiar to her.  He was a tall, slim African-American in a designer suit and small wire-rimmed glasses.  He had a very no-nonsense businessman vibe about him.
                "I feel as if I do know you, or at least I've met you, but I'm drawing a blank on your name," Hilary said, extending her hand.  "I'm so sorry."
                Jamal shook her hand with a firm, but not obnoxiously hard grip.  His hand was warm and soft.  No recent hard labor for him, if ever. 
                "No offense taken, Ms Ashworth.  I'm sure you meet hundreds at different events and can't be expected to remember everyone's name," he said.  "We've met at a number of media and charity events, though I'm mostly in the background behind my employer."
                "Who is?"
                "DJ Ray."
                "The rapper?"
                "Rap mogul, Ms Ashworth," he said.  He looked so proud you'd think it was himself he was bragging about.  "His label has twelve of the top twenty rap acts.  In addition, he is the top selling rapper in the world."
                "Yes, I know who he is…may I call you Jamal?"
                "Of course."
                "Thank you.  Call me Hilary, please.  Now, how can I help you?"
                For the first time he looked nervous as he hesitated and licked his lips.  Hilary quirked a brow, waiting impatiently.  She really wanted to get into the air and begin her much needed destressing.
                "DJ Ray's jet has been grounded due to mechanical issues," he said.  "Unfortunately, he really needs to get to an event in LA, and we can't get a plane quickly enough for him to make it on time.  Then we heard you were heading for Hawaii, and departing immediately."
                "You