Page 2 of Signed, I'm Yours!
Shame. I wouldn’t mind the challenge of trying to convert him. Once he’s done giving me the once-over, he nods at the guy behind me, who makes another attempt to cuff me.
Jeez. I’m not in the mood for BDSM today. Get with the program.
“Why won’t you listen to me? I own this jet. And I can prove it to you. Give me a piece of paper, and I’ll sign for it.”
I take a step forward to avoid Handcuffs Guy, who is literally obsessed with me, it seems, and land almost in Big Burly Guy’s arms. Almost. Sadly, he doesn’t close the distance between us. Sigh.
“I don’t know how you think signing for something will prove anything.” He grabs me by the shoulders, and I know my number is up. If I don’t act now, I’ll have to go through the whole arrest and bullshit before I can get out, and ain’t nobody got time for that.
“Just give me a piece of paper. I’ll do the rest. I’ll prove to you I am no thief.”
Big Burly Guy stares at me. I stare back. He raises an eyebrow, and I raise two. He huffs. I smirk. It’s too hot for comfort between us. It’s like we’re flirting. I can so picture us in bed together doing the horizontal mambo, cha-cha, and tango combined.
But I also have business to attend to, and I’m too tired to convert a straight man…
“So?” I say, and he surrenders with a growl.
A female security guard approaches with a clipboard and a blank piece of paper.
I put my hand under my fur coat and freeze. Everyone’s guns rise back up, and a dozen lasers dot my body.
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Relax, won’t you? I’m just getting my pen,” I tell them and remove my hand slowly. So slowly. I don’t want to get shot. Do you know how much I paid for this coat? I don’t want to get blood on it.
Under everyone’s gaze, I take the cap off and put pen to paper, staring at Big Burly Guy.
“Like I said, I am the owner of this private jet. I have paid for this flight. We have all the appropriate aviation permissions to be here. Do you believe me?” I sign the paper and hand it to him.
As soon as he looks at my signature, his eyes go wide, his posture goes rigid, and his jaw shakes.
“I…I am so sorry, Mr. Walters. I don’t know what happened. We were told this jet was stolen and there was an unauthorized passenger on it. We didn’t… I don’t know what to say. Please forgive us. We must have made a mistake.” He gestures to the rest of the airport security people, and they lower their guns.
“No, darling.” I smile at Big Burly Guy and drag my index finger across his face. “You’ve been signed. By the Sinister Seomyeong…sexy.” I whisper in his ear and walk away.
I know for a fact he is staring at me, despite finding me positively despicable only a moment ago. What can I say, my signature comes with some charm. Naturally, I drop my fur coat so Big Burly Guy can have a full view of my ass. You never know when we could meet again. Might as well lay the groundwork for our torrid affair.
I spot the small, discreet limo at the hangar and a man dressed to the nines, cap and gloves included, standing to attention in front of it.
“What was that about?” he asks.
I shrug it off and smile at the man.
“Oh, nothing. Just a hitch.”
“Mr. Hank, I presume?”
“The one and only,” I respond, and the chauffeur opens the door for me.
Now, this is more like it.
This is how I should always be treated. Like a king. Or queen, depending on the mood.
The door shuts behind me and I find another glass of champagne waiting for me.
I guess being back has its advantages. It’s so much easier to manipulate people in New York than anywhere else in the world. It’s as if New Yorkers are more susceptible to lies and manipulation. Everyone is so desperate to make their dreams come true in the Big Apple that they’ll do or believe anything.
“I hope the temperature is to your liking, sir.”
I glance at the chauffeur through the rearview mirror and purse my lips.
