I blushed. He was definitely staring down my uniform and admiring my cleavage. Why did I feel so excited even though this technically counted as harassment? I didn't dare find out.

"W-would you like to have a drink?" I asked again, hoping he wouldn't notice how badly I was stammering.

"Yea, champagne would be fine. What's your name, beautiful?" he smiled.

I grinned back, pulling out a champagne glass and poured some of that fizzy liquid in.

"I'm Lorraine. Here." I handed the glass to him.

He took a sip. I would remember that satisfied look on his face as he relished in the champagne's refreshing taste.

"Lorraine." he repeated after me, caressing my name with his tongue. "That's a beautiful name, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl like you."

"I'm Tiger. Tiger Brooks. I play golf, you might have seen me on TV sometimes."

So that's why his stunning features seemed so familiar! Sh*t, that multi-millionaire Tiger Brooks? The golfer whose name was on the tongue of everyone who watched professional golf?

My hand shoots out and grabs a hold of the top of his seat to steady myself. Dammit, keep it together girl, you almost fainted for god's sake!

"That's awesome." I sighed dreamily. Passengers on first class are truly something else.

"Say, have you ever heard of the 'Mile High Club'?" he asked nonchalantly. The man who had it all was bored and wanted more.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't, why?" I replied, wondering what kind of exclusive organization this was.

"It's a super secret club that only few people join. People like me, for example. Would you like to join me?" he flashed me that million dollar smile.

How could I say no?

"Well, there's just one requirement for joining, Lorraine." Tiger proposed. Even someone as klutzy and unobservant as me was able to catch his erection straining against his pants.

"And what would that be? I'll do anything." I said breathlessly. My face flushed a deep red in embarrassed arousal.

I barely managed to stop myself from screaming out loud as he pulled me from the aisle onto his lap. The makeshift tray was set aside in a hurry. His warm breath fell upon my skin, setting me on fire.