Page 27 of At Her Service (Club Velvet #2)

CHAPTER 27

A bby unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of her seat, stretching her legs and looking around the cabin. They were on their way back to Los Angeles, and the private jet was no less impressive the second time around. The plush leather seats were as comfortable as her own bed, and there was an actual bed at the back of the plane. It even had a full-sized bathroom, with marble accents and a spacious shower. Plus, they had not one, but two flight attendants waiting on their every need, from food and drinks to fine cotton pajamas and five different kinds of pillows. It was a final taste of paradise before they returned home.

Abby wandered over to the lounge area nearby and sprawled out on the couch. When had she stopped thinking of it as Valerie’s house and started thinking of it as home ? Was it around the same time she’d started thinking of Valerie as her Mistress?

Her stomach fluttered. Had she only imagined what Valerie said to her the night before in the villa? After all, Abby had been deep in subspace, her mind in a daze. No, even then, Valerie’s words had been clear as day.

She glanced toward the back of the jet, where Valerie was putting Hazel down for a nap. Abby wanted to ask her if she’d meant what she said. She’d already tried. But her doubts had come flooding back, and she’d lost her nerve.

Abby steeled herself. Once they were back home, she would talk to Valerie. She would tell her how she felt.

And she’d pray that Valerie felt the same.

Valerie slid the curtain at the back of the jet closed. “Hazel is finally asleep.” She took a seat next to Abby, reaching up and freeing her curls from her bun. “It’s been a long few days. I’m looking forward to getting back to LA.”

Abby murmured in agreement. She was exhausted.

Valerie stretched herself out on the couch. “I’ll say one thing. This trip was a roaring success. The location scouts were right. The island setting is perfect. I have so many ideas for revisions to the script so we can shoot more scenes on location. I want to take full advantage of the natural beauty of the island, really give the film the sense of romance, wonder, grandeur that it needs.”

Abby smiled to herself. It was reassuring to hear Valerie speaking passionately about her work again. Since the night before, she’d seemed more energized, more relaxed, less distracted.

Abby’s plan had worked.

“But script revisions can wait. Until we land, work is off limits.” Valerie picked up her phone and turned it off. “There. No more emails. No more messages. And no more movie talk. Let’s enjoy the last of our little getaway together.”

As if on cue, a flight attendant appeared in the cabin, pushing a cart with a bottle of champagne on ice and two flutes.

“Ms. Kane. Ms. Peters. The captain has informed me that our ETA is 10:25 p.m. Pacific Time.” She set the champagne bucket on the table in front of them before popping the cork and pouring them each a glass. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Valerie gave her a nod of thanks. She disappeared to the back of the plane, leaving them alone again.

Valerie picked up both glasses, handing one to Abby and raising her own in the air. “To a successful trip.”

They clinked their glasses together and drank. Abby savored the sweet burn, letting it spread through her body. It tasted better than any champagne she’d had before. No, anything she’d drunk before.

“Now, where were we?” Valerie traced her fingers up the side of Abby’s arm. “I believe I was saying I want to enjoy the last of our little getaway together?”

Abby’s breath deepened. Valerie plucked her champagne flute from her fingers and set it on the table alongside her own, then drew Abby’s face to hers, kissing her soft and slow. Abby sighed into her lips. It had been less than a day since Valerie made her come so hard that her soul left her body, and twice in a row. But that didn’t stop her desire reigniting.

Valerie snaked her hand up the front of Abby’s chest, drawing it down to expose her bra. She slipped her hand inside the cup, brushing a thumb over her nipple. Abby bit back a gasp, glancing toward the front of the plane. The last thing she wanted was to draw the attention of the flight crew.

One hand still teasing Abby’s nipple, Valerie slid her other hand down Abby’s stomach, her hip, her thigh, reaching under her skirt. She skated it up to where Abby’s legs met, fingertips grazing her inner thighs.

Abby trembled, parting her knees wide as Valerie ran a finger up and down, pushing the fabric of her panties between her lower lips.

She stroked Abby’s clit with a fingertip. “It doesn’t take much to get you wet, does it?”

Abby didn’t dare answer her. She could feel a moan building in her chest, and she couldn’t risk opening her mouth and letting it out.

Valerie’s lips brushed her cheek as she whispered into her ear. “Take off your panties.”

Abby didn’t need to be told twice. She lifted her hips, pulling her panties down her legs.

But as Abby pushed them aside with her foot, Valerie held out her hand. “Give them to me.”

Heat rose to Abby’s face. “You want…”

But she wasn’t one to question Madame V’s orders. She picked up the panties and held them out to Valerie, her cheeks burning. She’d dressed for comfort for the flight, and the pink cotton panties she’d chosen were no exception. The fabric was worn thin, and the lace trim was stretched out. They were the furthest thing from sexy. She hadn’t expected anyone to see them, let alone take them from her.

But Valerie didn’t seem to mind. She took the panties, slipping them into the pocket of her linen pantsuit jacket. “You can have them back when we get home. If I’m feeling generous.”

Abby’s face burned even hotter. “Are you serious? We don’t get home for another ten hours!”

“Twelve, actually. And maybe when we get home, I’ll let you come.”

Abby groaned. Valerie had gotten her all worked up, and now she was leaving her hanging.

“Don’t pout, my pet. Once we get home, I’ll make it worth your while. But until then…” Valerie reached over to the table and refilled their glasses. “How about some more champagne?”

With a sigh, Abby took the flute from her and tossed the entire glass back.

It was going to be a long flight.

* * *

Twelve hours later, they were sitting in the back of a car, crawling along in the Los Angeles traffic.

“I need to turn my phone on,” Valerie said. “God knows Alex has tried to call me a dozen times.”

Abby yawned. How could Valerie possibly be thinking about work right now? Surely, she was as exhausted as Abby was.

Valerie reached into her purse and took out her phone. As soon as she turned it on, an endless stream of notifications erupted from it. She scrolled through them, her brows drawn together in concentration, then concern.

She cursed under her breath, then again, louder.

“What’s the matter?” Abby asked.

Valerie’s voice shook slightly as she spoke. “There’s a photo. A photo of the two of us.”

Abby’s stomach dropped. “What? How? I thought you took care of it.”

“I did. This wasn’t the paparazzo. It was a guest at the resort. Some social media model, who apparently has no respect for the privacy of such places. She took a photo of us at the restaurant and shared it on her profile.” Valerie shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”

Abby peered at Valerie’s screen. On it was a photo of the two of them in the restaurant, leaning towards each other across the small table, Valerie’s hand on hers in an unmistakably intimate way. It looked as if they were about to kiss.

“This is a disaster ,” Valerie said.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay?—”

“You don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly understand!” Valerie shook her head again. “I need to call my publicist. I need to fix this before it’s too late.”

She dialed a number on her phone. A few seconds later, the call connected. Abby was close enough to hear a woman’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Valerie,” she said. “You’re back. You got my message?”

“Yes. Tell me, what’s the damage?”

“Nothing so far. I had legal get in touch with the model. She’s taken the photo down. It only got a thousand views or so.”

Abby’s mouth fell open. A thousand views? A thousand people saw the photo?

“I’ll have my team keep an eye out in case someone reposts it,” the woman continued. “But as of a few hours ago, it’s gone.”

“Thank you,” Valerie said. “Be sure to keep me posted.”

She hung up the phone. Abby let out a breath. The photo had been taken down.

So why didn’t Valerie seem relieved?

The rest of the car ride passed in silence, tension hanging in the air. Abby didn’t try to reassure Valerie again. This was something she couldn’t fix.

When they finally arrived back home, Valerie got out of the car and unbuckled Hazel from her car seat, holding her tightly as she hurried toward the house. Abby followed, a sick feeling in her stomach.

They made their way inside. The driver set their bags inside the door, then disappeared with a tip of his hat. It wasn’t until he was gone that Valerie addressed Abby.

“Here, take Hazel up to bed.” She handed the sleeping toddler over. “I need to?—”

Valerie froze in place, then turned slowly, her eyes fixing on something in the living room.

Abby frowned. “What’s the matter?” She followed the path of Valerie’s eyes.

And her heart jumped out of her throat.

Sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand, was a woman dressed in a black trench coat and heels, with long dark hair and olive skin. And while Abby had only met her once before, she knew the woman’s face. Everyone did.

Francesca rose to her feet, her ruby-red lips curling up into a smile as she spoke with a deep, sultry voice.

“Hello, Val.”