Turbulence shook the private jet hard. The cabin rattled.
Ezra Blake gripped the armrest of his leather seat, his laptop nearly sliding off his thighs. The 20-year-old trust-fund junior tried to focus on the screen, but his eyes kept drifting across the cabin to Claudia Voss.
Claudia sat in the wide seat opposite him, completely calm. The 49-year-old woman looked powerful in her tailored navy dress that hugged every curve of her voluptuous, surgically enhanced body.
Her full breasts strained against the fabric, and the dress clung to her wide hips and thick thighs. Her dark hair fell in perfect waves around her shoulders. She sipped her drink slowly, one leg crossed over the other, watching him with sharp eyes.
Another jolt hit the plane. Ezra’s stomach flipped. He shifted in his seat
