EXTRACT FOR
The Houston Trip
(Cheyenne Wilson)

The next thing she knew, she was on Tom's private jet, flying with him to Houston.



Except for the pilot and the co-pilot, they were the only two on the small jet. Chelsea sat quietly and patiently in one of the big, swiveling chairs facing Tom, with a small table between them, and a pleasant view of the clouds through one of the small windows.



Tom was busy, of course. He had a laptop, a stack of papers in his open briefcase on the next swiveling seat, and a cell phone to his ear. He was always busy. Since she had started working for him, she hadn't seen a day when he wasn't ridiculously busy.



Chelsea let out a deep breath through her nose. She felt helpless without something to do. He brought her along to be his assistant. Shouldn't she be doing something to help him? She glanced between his legs. He had a good-sized bulge in his crotch. She smiled and squeezed her legs together. That was something she could help him with.