Professional Meets Personal

"Aurelia want you as the face of their new campaign." Luisa's agent sat back in his chair, a view of the LA skyline behind him. "Global launch, print, digital, billboards in major cities. The fee is... substantial."

He looked with raised eyebrows at Luisa as he slid the draft contract across the table. As she took it and scanned through she struggled to keep calm, glancing up at her agent for confirmation that she'd not read it wrong... substantial didn't do it justice. Transformational was a better word, the sort of money that would justify all of the work and all of the sacrifices there had been to get where she was, and of sacrifices there had been many.

More than the money, though, Aurelia was making waves, a luxury perfume house backed by serious money and already developing cult status among the fashion elite. Being their signature face could elevate her from her status as well known within the industry to a model known by the public.

In her mid twenties, Luisa's modelling career was delicately poised... successful enough after eight years in the industry to be selective, but not yet powerful enough to be untouchable. This could be the one, the opportunity. And the fee, well, she'd been eyeing up a villa by the beach back home in Mexico for a holiday home... this would make that a reality with plenty to spare.

She smiled at her agent. "I'm still interested, nothing's changed there." She paused. "What's the timeline?"

Her agent squirmed slightly in his seat. "That's the thing," her agent replied, hesitation evident. "The founder wants to meet with you first. Dinner tomorrow night in Santa Monica. To discuss the 'creative vision' for the brand." Her agent paused. "You've heard of her? Celine Rousseau?"

The quotation marks were audible. Luisa understood immediately what wasn't being said, it being far from the first time that a founder or a CEO or a casting director or one of a thousand other roles around the industry had expressed an interest in meeting for dinner or a drink, always with some professional pretext, and rarely without an ulterior motive.

She gave him a look that spoke volumes.

He shrugged apologetically. "Look, I know your instruction that you won't consider those sorts of meetings one-to-one... I understand." He paused, looking her in the eye. "But regardless, for an opportunity like this I had to tell you. I'd understand if you say no. My bank manager might not, but... you know of her?"

"Yes, I've heard of her." Luisa took a moment to think.

Celine Rousseau, still young, she'd have guessed maybe 21 or 22, daughter of the French tech billionaire Michel Rousseau. Her face regularly appeared in the society pages... opening galleries in Paris, lounging on yachts in Saint-Tropez, and now, apparently, running her own perfume house with daddy's money. Beautiful in that effortless way that combined good genetics with easy access to every beauty treatment available.

"Dinner tomorrow..." Luisa said. "And if I'm unavailable for dinner?"

Her agent hesitated. "They're considering two other models. Both have expressed availability, but you are the preference."

Of course they had. In this industry, there was always someone else, someone younger, someone hungrier, someone more willing to do whatever it takes.

"I'll check my schedule," Luisa said. "Can I call you later?"

"Don't take too long," came the reply.

At home in her apartment, Luisa poured herself a glass of wine and looked out of the window. The Los Angeles evening stretched before her, the city lights beginning to twinkle as dusk settled. She'd come a long way from the wide eyed eighteen year old on her first proper photoshoot in Tulum, had learned to navigate the world of modelling with skill and poise.

She pulled up Celine's social media on her phone, scrolling through images of a life of extraordinary privilege. Celine posing with celebrities at Cannes. Celine in couture at the Met Gala. Celine's perfectly manicured hand holding a prototype of the Aurelia perfume bottle... elegant, minimalist, expensive.

There were no photos of Celine with men, Luisa noted. But several with women, arms linked, cheeks pressed together, captions with heart emojis and inside jokes. Nothing that made it obvious, but enough to hint that Celine maybe had a preference and that that preference wasn't for men.

Luisa sipped her wine and considered her options with the clarity that eight years in the industry had taught her.

The professional calculation was simple... the Aurelia campaign would be transformative for her career, pushing her to a whole other level. The fee alone would secure her financially for a year. Refusing even the dinner would likely mean watching another model claim the opportunity, and this wasn't the sort of opportunity that came along often.

The personal calculation was more complex... Luisa had long since established her boundaries around transactional intimacy. While she'd done what many models starting out had done at the start of her career, sleeping with people in the industry with power out of fear of the consequences of not, she'd long ago left that behind. Nowadays, she wasn't averse to an arrangement with professional benefits but she was selective, in fact very, very selective... it would be her choice, on her terms, with someone who interested her, someone with whom she had strong chemistry.

It was a very high hurdle, and nowadays very few people could clear it. Not impossible, but near to.

Did Celine interest her? Objectively, yes. She was beautiful, clearly intelligent to have launched a successful brand so young, even allowing for family money, and she radiated a confident sophistication in every image. But attraction required more than a person on a screen.

Luisa finished her wine and made her decision. She would go to dinner. She would assess the situation, and Celine, in person. She would be charming, professional, engaged. And then, if the chemistry was there, if the connection felt authentic rather than merely advantageous, she would decide what happened next.

She texted her agent: 'Tell Celine I look forward to discussing her creative vision. Send me the restaurant details.'

The next evening, Luisa paused to check her reflection in the mirror at the entrance to the restaurant. She felt surprisingly nervous, but then this was one of those rare evenings where she was meeting someone who could, if it went well, advance her career in one single huge leap. So, maybe, she was right to feel nervous... maybe this was one of those times that nerves were a good thing.

The Luisa that looked back at her belied none of those nerves though. Tall and slim, Luisa had the kind of effortless elegance that photographers adored. Her tanned, olive skin had something intangible that needed little enhancement, catching light in ways that made even experienced make-up artists pause in appreciation.

Her face, she'd been reliably told though she still didn't quite believe it, was a perfect harmony of features, dominated by brown eyes so expressive and deep that the right glance in a photograph could almost hold a conversation with the viewer. Her dark brown hair, usually pulled back in a practical ponytail when off duty, was worn down for the night with an artfully casual, messy look that hid the effort she'd put in to getting ready, framing her face that seemed to turn heads wherever she went.

For the dinner, she'd dressed to impress, wearing a black, long sleeved, figure hugging dress that stopped around half-way down her thighs, paired with a set of high heels. She'd gone with her best lingerie too, as much for the lift it gave her emotionally as in any expectation of things to go beyond dinner.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the lift up to the restaurant. Here we go, she thought...

Celine had taken over the entire rooftop of a trendy Santa Monica restaurant for the evening. As Luisa stepped from the lift, she was momentarily struck by the effortless, classy beauty of the space... what seemed like a million fairy lights strung up artfully, mingling with the plant life and the relaxed, modern decor.

Only one table was set, positioned for optimal views of both the ocean and the city skyline.

Celine rose as Luisa approached. In person, she was more striking than her photos suggested, tall and slender with dark hair cut in a bob, wearing a white suit that conveyed both power and femininity. Her eyes, a clear grey blue, assessed Luisa with undisguised appreciation.

"Luisa," she said, her accent distinctly French despite what must have been years of international education. "Thank you for coming." She leaned forward, kissing Luisa once on each cheek, lingering just a moment longer than social convention dictated.

"Thank you for the invitation," Luisa replied, taking her seat as a waiter appeared to pour champagne. "The setting is beautiful."

Celine's smile was confident. "I believe in creating experiences. Every detail matters." She raised her glass. "To new partnerships."

The ambiguity of the toast wasn't lost on Luisa. She mirrored the gesture, maintaining eye contact as she sipped the undoubtedly expensive champagne.

"Tell me about Aurelia," Luisa said, placing her glass down. "What inspired you to create a perfume house?"

The question seemed to genuinely engage Celine. She leaned forward, her composure momentarily replaced by enthusiasm.

"Scent is memory, emotion, identity... all captured in molecules," she said. "I grew up in my grandmother's garden in Provence. Lavender, jasmine, roses. The smell of the earth after rain. These are more than pleasant fragrances, they're emotional anchors."

Luisa found herself surprisingly drawn in by Celine's passion. This wasn't the vapid socialite she'd half-expected playing at doing fashion, this was for real.

"Aurelia, named for my grandmother, is about capturing those emotional anchors, but reimagining them for modern women. Women who are complex." Celine's gaze was direct, intense. "Women like you."

"You know very little about me," Luisa pointed out, though the smile that she gave while she said it said more than her words.

"I know more than you might think." Celine signalled, and the first course appeared, a delicate arrangement of vegetables and flowers. "I've followed your career with interest. You have... versatility. Depth. You're not just a face or a body to be draped in designer clothes. There's intelligence behind your eyes, a sense that you're always calculating, always three steps ahead."

The assessment was uncomfortably accurate. Luisa took a bite of her starter to avoid responding immediately.

"That's what Aurelia needs," Celine continued. "Not just beauty, though you have that in abundance, but substance. Mystery. The suggestion that there's more beneath the surface."

"All perfume campaigns promise mystery," Luisa said with a slight shrug. "It's hardly revolutionary."

Celine laughed, a genuine laugh that transformed her face, making her appear younger, less guarded. "True. But most use mystery as a thin veneer over the same old messaging... wear this and be desirable. I'm interested in something different. Wear this and be yourself... your complete, complex self."

The conversation flowed from there, moving beyond the campaign to art, travel, books. Luisa found herself genuinely engaged, surprised by Celine's knowledge, her sharp observations, her wry humour. By the main course, she'd revised her assessment entirely. Celine wasn't just a billionaire's daughter playing at business. She was formidable in her own right.

She was also undeniably flirting... her gaze lingering, fingers occasionally brushing Luisa's when reaching for the water, questions that probed beneath the professional surface. And Luisa, to her own surprise, found herself responding in kind.

There was chemistry here. Unexpected, unplanned, but unmistakable. The calculation that had brought Luisa to this dinner was being complicated by genuine attraction.

Over dessert, another delicate invention involving honey and lavender, Celine finally broached the subject directly.

"The campaign would be shot in Provence, at my family's estate. Ten days in June." She traced the rim of her wine glass with one perfectly manicured finger. "The photographer is Isabelle Varon... you've worked with her before, I believe?"

Luisa nodded. Isabelle was respected, professional, talented.

"The contract is straightforward. Exclusive for fragrance for one year, with options to renew." Celine's eyes met Luisa's directly. "The financial terms are detailed in the document my team sent to your agent. I trust they're acceptable."

"They're generous," Luisa acknowledged, trying to play it cool and act as if she earned that sort of money all the time.

"I value what I want." Celine's smile was confident rather than arrogant. "And I want you as the face of Aurelia."

The statement hung between them, layered with meaning. Celine set down her glass and reached across the table, her fingers lightly touching Luisa's wrist.

"The campaign discussion is concluded," she said softly. "The contract will be there tomorrow regardless of what happens next. This is entirely separate."

Luisa felt a flutter of genuine appreciation for the clarity. Celine was explicitly removing the transactional element, stating that the professional opportunity wasn't contingent on personal compliance. Of course, there was always the risk of an 'unexpected bump in the road' or a 'last minute issue' if she didn't, she'd heard of that happening to others, but in this instance she believed Celine, genuinely believed her.

"I have a suite at the Huntley," Celine continued, her touch light but deliberate on Luisa's skin. "I'd like you to join me. But only if you want to. Only if this..." she gestured between them, "... is something you feel too."

The professional calculation that had brought Luisa to the dinner was now irrelevant. The decision was made, the contract would be hers regardless. What remained was purely personal. Did she want this woman, this night?

This beautiful, confident, empowered, powerful woman... this woman where the chemistry between her and Luisa was strong, very strong.

The answer, she realised, was unequivocally yes.

"I'll join you," Luisa said simply.

Celine's slow smile held genuine pleasure rather than triumph.

Celine had underplayed it describing it as a suite. It was THE suite. Occupying the whole top floor with a stunning view of the coastline, the pier illuminated against the night sky. Celine gave off a sense of familiarity with this sort of high luxury, discarding her jacket and pouring two glasses of water.

"Would you like music?" she asked, her voice quiet in the tastefully lit room.

"No," Luisa replied, moving toward her. "I think we've had enough preliminaries."

Something flickered in Celine's eyes... surprise, appreciation, desire. Luisa suspected that she was the one used to being in control and it surprised her that Luisa was now taking the initiative. She set down the water glasses and closed the distance between them.

Their first kiss was tentative, almost exploratory. Celine's lips were soft, tasting faintly of the champagne they'd shared. Her hand came up to stroke Luisa's jaw and Luisa responded by deepening the kiss, her own hands finding Celine's waist, drawing her closer. The initial hesitation soon dissolved into urgency, months of Celine's apparent interest and hours of building tension finally finding release.

They moved toward the bedroom as one, shedding clothing along the way... Luisa's dress falling at her feet, Celine's blouse opening under Luisa's experienced fingers. By the time they reached the bed they were down to their lingerie, both of their faces flushed with desire.

Celine lowered Luisa onto the bed with surprising strength, her body following, pressing Luisa into the luxurious bedding. For all of her sophistication and self possession there was an eagerness to Celine's touch that suggested she'd been imagining this moment for some time.

"You're even more beautiful than I imagined," Celine murmured, her lips moving from Luisa's neck to her collarbone, her hands moving with obvious experience over Luisa's body.

Luisa allowed herself to enjoy Celine's touch, to be present in a way that she had rarely been in the past during these encounters that blurred the boundary between professional and personal. This was genuine desire meeting genuine desire, heightened by how new they were to each other.

Celine's mouth found Luisa's breast through the thin silk of her bra, teeth grazing the nipple just enough to send a shock of pleasure through her. Luisa's back arched instinctively, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"Tell me what you like," Celine whispered, her French accent stronger with her arousal. "Show me."

The invitation was genuine, Luisa realised, that rare thing of actual interest in her pleasure. She leaned up and reached behind herself, unhooking her bra and letting it fall away, then guided Celine's hands and mouth where she wanted them.

Celine was an attentive partner, responsive to every cue, every change in Luisa's breathing, every involuntary movement. She took her time, exploring Luisa's body with the same focused appreciation she might give to assessing a fine wine or a piece of art.

When her hand finally slid between Luisa's legs, when her fingers found the wetness there, it was Celine rather than Luisa who let out a sound of satisfaction.

"You feel incredible," she whispered into Luisa's ear, her fingers sliding slowly through her arousal. "I've thought about this since the first time I saw you in Vanity Fair two years ago."

The admission was startlingly honest and unexpectedly touching. Luisa drew Celine in for a deep, passionate kiss, her own hand moving to mirror Celine's movements, sliding beneath the expensive lace of her underwear to find her equally aroused.

They moved together with increasing urgency, fingers stroking, circling, finally slipping inside. Luisa watched Celine's face as pleasure overtook her... the look of sophisticated control falling away, revealing someone younger, more vulnerable, more real.

When Celine's thumb pressed against her clitoris with the perfect pressure, when her fingers curled to hit exactly the right spot inside her, Luisa felt her orgasm building quickly. Usually, particularly in this sort of professional crossover, she had to concentrate, had to direct her partners explicitly, but Celine seemed to read her body intuitively, adjusting pressure and rhythm in perfect response to Luisa's reactions.

"Yes," Luisa gasped, her free hand gripping Celine's back, her fingernails digging ever so slightly in. "Just like that. Don't stop."

Celine's smile was almost predatory. "I won't," she promised, her movements gaining intensity. "Cum for me. I want to watch you."

The command, delivered in that sexy accent, pushed Luisa over the edge. Her orgasm crashed through her in waves, her body tightening around Celine's fingers, her own hand temporarily stilled as pleasure overwhelmed her.

As she came down from the heights, breathing hard, she became aware of Celine watching her with naked desire, her own need still evident in the movement of her hips against Luisa's temporarily stilled hand.

"Your turn," Luisa said, recovering quickly.

She flipped their positions so that Celine was beneath her, Celine letting out a brief exclamation of surprise. Luisa took her time, trailing kisses down Celine's body, paying special attention to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, building anticipation.

When she finally tasted her, when her tongue found Celine's core, the younger woman's reaction was immediate and visceral... her hands flying to Luisa's hair, her back arching off the bed, a stream of French expletives falling from her lips.

Luisa smiled against her, enjoying the power of reducing this wealthy, sophisticated businesswoman to incoherence. She worked with deliberate skill, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention, adding fingers when Celine's movements demanded more.

"Je vais jouir," Celine gasped, reverting entirely to French as her pleasure peaked. "Luisa, je vais..."

Her words dissolved into a cry as she came, her thighs trembling on either side of Luisa's head, her hands tightening almost painfully in Luisa's hair. Luisa continued, gentler now, guiding her through the aftershocks until Celine tugged her upward, too sensitive for more.

They lay together, catching their breath, sweaty limbs entangled. Celine's hand traced idle patterns on Luisa's back, her expression thoughtful.

"That was..." she began, then laughed softly. "I'm rarely at a loss for words."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Luisa replied, smiling before leaning over to kiss Celine again.

After a few minutes, Celine stirred herself. "I think that calls for champagne." She laughed as she picked up the phone to call the dedicated butler service for the suite. "To celebrate our professional partnership, and also... this." She shrugged and smiled, and Luisa grinned back.

The champagne came quickly, the level of service Luisa presumed that came with the best suite in the best hotel in the area.

Both women dressed in the soft bathrobes provided by the hotel, they sat comfortably on the large sofa in the suite's living room, windows open, Luisa stretched out and Celine's legs resting easily on hers, lights dimmed, enjoying hearing the sea and the night life of Santa Monica far down below.

As they drank one glass then a second they talked with increasing openness about their lives, their ambitions, their perceptions of the industry that they both inhabited from different perspectives.

Celine proved to be surprisingly thoughtful about the challenges faced by models, particularly those like Luisa who came from outside the traditional fashion capitals, and was keen to hear about and understand some of the less savoury aspects of Luisa's earlier career, some of the moral compromises that Luisa had had to make.

"Although," considered Celine, "I feel like a hypocrite, considering what we just did."

Luisa smiled reassuringly. "That's completely different. Completely. It's one thing a predatory photographer coercing an 18 year old model into bed for fear of him crashing her career. It's another thing entirely for two consenting adults to decide that they like each other over dinner and... well..." She gestured to the two of them.

"You're sure...?" asked Celine, clearly worrying that she'd done something inappropriate.

"Completely. Look, in this job I sometimes meet beautiful, interesting, charismatic people. The attraction can be real. And if it is then something can happen and that's fine." She paused. "Trust me, if I genuinely hadn't wanted to come back here I wouldn't."

Celine smiled appreciatively and squeezed Luisa's hand. "So you think I'm beautiful, interesting and charismatic?" she teased.

The brief touch lingered, Celine's fingers intertwining with Luisa's. The conversation about business gradually faded as Celine's thumb traced small circles on Luisa's palm.

"You know," Celine said, her voice dropping to something just above a whisper, "I've been thinking about you for months. Since I first saw you in that editorial for Vanity Fair."

Luisa felt a glow spreading through her that had nothing to do with the champagne. "Is that when you decided you wanted me for Aurelia?"

"Yes, professionally," Celine admitted, shifting closer on the sofa, her robe parting slightly as she moved. "But I also wanted to know if the woman behind those extraordinary photographs was as compelling as she appeared."

"And?" Luisa asked, her eyes meeting Celine's.

"More so," Celine replied, leaning forward, her lips brushing against Luisa's, light as a feather.

Luisa responded by returning the kiss, her hand reaching for Celine at the same time. Unlike their earlier urgency this kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if they were taking the opportunity to learn each other properly after that first, desperate exploration.

Celine's hand slid inside Luisa's robe, palm warm against her stomach, fingers spread across her ribs before sliding upwards. The deliberate slowness of her touch made Luisa's breath catch, anticipation building as Celine's hand gently moved to her breast.

"You're exquisite," Celine murmured against Luisa's neck, her accent more French than ever in that moment.

Luisa let her head fall back against the sofa as Celine's lips moved along her neck and shoulders, pushing the robe off as she went. The cooler air from the open windows contrasted with the warmth of Celine's mouth, making Luisa shiver in the very best way.

Now they took their time. Afterwards Luisa thought it was almost as if Celine was worshipping her body, her hands and mouth moving with an unhurried reverence as she seemed to cover every single inch of Luisa.

Luisa's robe fell away completely, and Celine drew back slightly, her eyes taking in Luisa's naked body with undisguised admiration. The expression on her face, an aroused hunger as much as anything, sparked a fire of desire inside Luisa, her arousal building fast.

She reached for Celine's robe, unwrapping her slowly and gently, the soft fabric falling around her waist. In the dim light, Celine's skin seemed to glow, all elegant lines and graceful curves.

"Come here," Luisa said, guiding Celine onto her lap.

Celine straddled her, their bodies pressing together, skin against skin, breast against breast, lips and tongue against lips and tongue, a hugely intimate position. Luisa's hands found Celine's hips and started to stroke her ass, before she slid one hand further, sliding past her other hole to find her slick wetness and start to touch her from that unusual angle, drawing a long, shuddering moan from Celine.

When Celine's hand slid between them, when her fingers found Luisa already wet and ready too, her smile was one of genuine delight as Luisa gasped in pleasure. She touched Luisa slowly but confidently, reading her responses with intuitive understanding, building pleasure with the patience of someone who knew that good things came to those who waited.

As their touches grew more insistent, the moans and gasps more frequent, Celine pulled back slightly, her eyes bright with her arousal. "I want to taste you," she whispered, "but I'm just a spoilt rich girl," accompanied with a pout, "and I've always had trouble waiting my turn..."

Luisa understood immediately. "Lie down," she instructed with a grin, helping Celine remove the last of her bath robe and stretch out along the length of the sofa.

Luisa positioned herself above Celine, her knees on either side of Celine's head, facing toward her feet. She lowered herself slowly, feeling Celine's hands guiding her hips downward until her mouth could reach Luisa.

The first touch of Celine's tongue drew a gasp from Luisa, momentarily distracting her from her own intentions. But then she leaned forward, positioning herself between Celine's thighs, and reciprocated in kind.

The position created a perfect feedback loop of pleasure, each woman's reactions feeding the other's. When Celine moaned against Luisa, the vibration intensified the sensation. When Luisa increased her pace, Celine matched her urgency.

There was something profoundly intimate about this mutual giving and receiving, this shared journey toward release. Their bodies moved in harmony, finding a rhythm that built steadily, slowly but inexorably towards their mutual release.

When it came, their orgasms seemed to flow between them like an electric current, Celine's body tensing first, her cry muffled against Luisa, the sound and sensation of Celine's moans against her pushing Luisa over the edge as well. The pleasure cascaded through them both in waves, each cumming hard and desperately trying to draw out the other's orgasm while they also focused on their own.

After, Luisa rolled towards the back of the sofa and they lay there, top to toe, softly kissing each other's legs and touching each other still, the occasional post-orgasmic tremor running through one or the other, neither wanting to or even being capable of moving from that position just yet.

After a few minutes more recovering, Luisa moved around to lie with her head on Celine's shoulder, her hand resting lightly on Celine's front while Celine gently stroked her hair. It felt relaxed, thought Luisa contentedly. The sounds from outside continued to drift up from below, creating a peaceful backdrop to their comfortable silence.

Eventually Luisa stirred, glancing at the elegant silver watch still on her wrist. "It's getting late," she said reluctantly.

"Is that your subtle way of escaping?" Celine teased, her fingers moving to stroke Luisa's shoulder. "And here I thought I'd at least rated breakfast."

Luisa laughed, turning to look up at Celine. "Trust me, you've rated far more than breakfast. But I have a fitting first thing in the morning. The designer herself is flying in, and showing up exhausted would be..." she paused, searching for the right word.

"Unprofessional?" Celine suggested, her eyes twinkling. "Though I'm kind of curious what you had in mind that you think would make me exhaust you that thoroughly..."

"Based on the evidence so far," Luisa replied with a raised eyebrow, "I think it's a fair assumption."

Celine laughed warmly. "Fair point." As Luisa sat up Celine ran a hand through her tousled hair, making no move to cover herself up. "I suppose we should be mature adults about this."

"Occasionally mature, at least," Luisa agreed, stretching languidly, aware of Celine's appreciative gaze watching her. She reached for her bathrobe, slipping it on but leaving it loosely tied. "Though I have to admit, I'm not really minded for this to be a one time thing necessarily."

"No?" Celine's smile was pleased. "What did you have in mind?"

"Dinner, perhaps? When are you free this week?" Luisa asked, gathering her hair over one shoulder. "Just casually."

Celine's smile faltered slightly. "Actually, I'm flying to New York tomorrow afternoon." She sat up, making no effort to reach for her own robe, seemingly entirely comfortable in her nudity. "Meetings with retailers and press for the North American launch."

"Ah," Luisa replied, genuinely disappointed. "Another time, then."

"Unless..." Celine began, her expression brightening with sudden inspiration. "You could come with me." She paused and smiled, then echoing Luisa teased, "Just casually."

"To New York?" Luisa asked, surprised.

"Why not? It could be framed as a professional opportunity," Celine continued, warming to the idea. "It would be beneficial for the new face of Aurelia to attend some of the meetings fresh from signing, put a face to the campaign vision. The retailers would love it."

"A professional justification," Luisa said with a slow smile, "how convenient."

"Entirely coincidental," Celine replied innocently. "Though I should mention that the meetings would only take up part of each day. The rest of our time..." she let the suggestion hang between them.

Luisa stood, letting her robe fall open as she walked toward the bedroom to find her clothes. "And how long is this professional opportunity?"

Celine followed, still naked, watching as Luisa located her underwear. "Two days. I'd have you back in LA by the weekend." She paused, a hint of uncertainty crossing her features. "I realise that might sound like... I don't mean to suggest I'm controlling your schedule or..."

"Celine," Luisa interrupted gently, pausing and in the act of stepping into her underwear, "I didn't take it that way." She pulled the underwear up slowly, aware of Celine's eyes following the movement. "You're offering me a ride home, albeit a very expensive one, not buying my compliance."

Relief showed in Celine's expression. "I'm not usually this awkward," she admitted. "I'm just... conscious of the dynamics. Of it not becoming something inappropriate."

"I appreciate that," Luisa said sincerely, reaching for her bra. "And I appreciate that the professional excuse is just that... an excuse."

"Well, not entirely," Celine said, leaning against the doorframe, her naked body catching the warm light from the bedside lamp. "You would be an asset at the meetings. That is genuine, an idea I like more and more from a business point of view the more I think about it. But yes, I'd like more time with you, preferably with fewer clothes than you're currently putting on."

Luisa laughed as she fastened her bra. "You're not making this easy, standing there like that while I'm trying to be responsible."

"Good," Celine replied with a mischievous smile. "Responsibility is overrated."

As Luisa searched for her dress, she grew more serious. "I should probably be clear about something, though. My life is... complicated. Between traveling constantly for shoots and various commitments I have, I don't really have the capacity for anything..." she hesitated, searching for the right word.

"Conventional?" Celine suggested, her expression understanding rather than disappointed.

"Exactly," Luisa nodded, finding her dress on the floor near the bed and stepping into it. "I can see us becoming good friends, we get on great, but..."

"But any sort of relationship isn't realistic," Celine finished for her. She ran a hand through her hair, still making no move to cover herself. "Trust me, I completely understand. Running Aurelia means I'm between Paris, Provence, Milan, New York, LA and wherever else business takes me. Most weeks I barely know what time zone I'm in."

"So we're on the same page," Luisa said, hugely relieved. "This doesn't have to end tonight, but we both know it can't become... complicated."

"Ironic, given we both just admitted our lives are already complicated," Celine pointed out with a wry smile. "But yes, I understand the boundaries. Friends, but friends who sometimes fool around. Just casually."

"That describes it well I think... casual is good. Could you?" Luisa asked, turning her back to Celine for help with the zip.

Celine approached, standing much closer to Luisa than was strictly necessary, so close that Luisa could feel her breath against her hair. She zipped the dress with deliberate slowness, her fingers brushing Luisa's spine. "You know," she murmured, moving her lips close to Luisa's ear, "this would be much more satisfying in reverse."

Luisa turned, finding herself just inches from Celine. The temptation to abandon her plans, to let the dress fall back to the floor and spend the night exploring more of what Celine's body had to offer, was almost overwhelming. "You're not playing fair," she said, her voice catching slightly and giving away her arousal.

"I never promised to play fair," Celine replied, making no move to close the distance between them, leaving the decision entirely to Luisa.

With effort, Luisa stepped back, smoothing her dress. "My fitting is at nine," she said, trying to sound more resolved than she felt. "After that, I have an early lunch meeting with my agent, but I should be free by two at the latest."

Celine smiled. "The jet leaves at three. I'll have a car pick you up as the private airport can be hard to find. Very discrete. It'll be just the two of us on my father's private jet... he didn't need it for the next few weeks."

"I haven't said yes yet," Luisa pointed out, though her smile gave her away.

"Haven't you?" Celine asked softly, still making no move to cover herself.

Luisa searched for her small handbag, finding it where it had been discarded earlier beside the bed. "I'll consider it," she said, maintaining the pretence of deliberation even as she mentally ran through a checklist of what she would need to pack when she got home.

"Of course," Celine agreed, her tone serious though her eyes were bright with amusement. "Take all the time you need. At least until 3 tomorrow."

Luisa slipped on her heels, now fully dressed while Celine remained gloriously naked... a contrast that wasn't lost on either of them. "I should go," Luisa said, though her legs seemed reluctant to move toward the door.

"You should," Celine agreed, finally reaching for her own bathrobe, though she merely hung it loosely over her, leaving it untied and open at the front.

"This evening was..." Luisa began.

"The start of something casual?" Celine suggested with a smile.

Luisa smiled back. "I like that better than goodbye."

They walked to the door together, Celine's robe still hanging open, a final temptation that tested Luisa's resolve to the limit. At the threshold, Celine leaned in for a kiss, keeping it deliberately light though the promise of more lingered in her touch.

"Until tomorrow," she said as they parted. "I've always wanted to join the Mile High Club... potentially."

"Potentially," Luisa agreed with a small smile that they both knew meant definitely.

As she stepped into the lift, as the doors closed between them, she found herself already anticipating the next day, already mentally rearranging her schedule to accommodate a spontaneous trip to New York. It was unlike her... impulsive, potentially complicated, professionally risk, but yet it felt unexpectedly right.

The Aurelia campaign would be transformative for her career, she had no doubt. But something told her that this was the start of a somewhat unorthodox friendship with Celine that might prove transformative in ways that she hadn't anticipated when she'd walked into that dinner just hours ago. This was one of those rare occasions when blurring the line between professional and personal didn't fill her with anxiety.

As she stepped out into the warm Los Angeles night, Luisa felt something she hadn't experienced in a while... the simple excitement of not knowing exactly what would happen next, and looking forward to finding out.

Luisa's high heels clicked against the polished floor of the private terminal, the sound echoing in the exclusive and, at that time of day, completely empty space designed for clients who valued discretion above all else.

She paused at the bathrooms, pushing open the door to check her appearance for one last time before boarding, feeling nervous... she'd met some high profile individuals throughout her modelling career, but this was her first time on a private jet and she felt a little out of her depth.

In the mirror, she looked at herself with the critical eye of a fashion professional and was happy with what she saw. For the flight she'd gone for understated elegance, a look that pretended that she did this sort of thing all the time... a pair of heels, slim fitting blue jeans, a pale, thin cashmere top, and a brown leather jacket that she'd liberated from a photoshoot a few months before, not that her host needed to know the provenance, all topped off by an expensive pair of sun glasses. Professional yet comfortable for the flight from LA to New York.

This spontaneous trip to New York still felt surreal. Not even twenty four hours before she'd walked into a business dinner with Celine Rousseau, the founder of Aurelia perfumes, firmly business rather than pleasure, the goal to secure a lucrative campaign contract.

Now she was about to board Celine's private jet for a continuation of what had evolved quickly to go far beyond professional negotiation.

Luisa tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, applied a fresh coat of lipstick, and straightened her shoulders. This wasn't like her... impulsive trips with near strangers, however attractive or intriguing they might be. Yet something about Celine had bypassed her usual boundaries, making this deviation from routine feel not reckless but refreshing.

Outside on the tarmac the sleek Gulfstream G700 waited, and at the foot of the stairs stood Celine.

Even from a distance, Celine commanded attention without seeming to seek it... much more so in daylight than had been the case at dinner the night before. Slightly shorter than Luisa but with a presence that made her seem taller despite only being in her early twenties, she embodied French sophistication with an edge of something more edgy and interesting beneath the surface.

Her dark bob framed a face of objective beauty with clear grey blue eyes, and full lips currently smiling in pleasure to see Luisa's approach. She wore a simple though clearly expensive blue dress, giving off the sort of relaxed vibe that told the world, truthfully, that private jets were a normal part of her life.

"You came," Celine said as Luisa reached her, her accent making the simple observation sound like something much more significant. She leaned in to kiss Luisa once on each cheek, taking a moment longer than would be appropriate professionally but that was more than appropriate given their intimacy of the night before. "I wasn't entirely sure you would," she teased, with a knowing smile that said that of course Luisa was always going to come.

"You had me at private jet," Luisa teased back. "I don't normally get invited to New York on a private jet. In fact, my first time on a private jet period."

Celine's eyes held Luisa's for a moment, the shared memory of the night before passing silently between them, then she grinned. "I guess that means I'm taking your virginity then..." She gestured toward the stairs. "Shall we? New York awaits, though I'll admit I'm just as interested in the journey as the destination."

As they climbed the stairs together, Luisa was excited. Whatever this was between them, the start of a professional relationship mixed with genuine personal connection, though anything that happened would be casual of course, she resolved to enjoy the moment, to not overthink it for once.

The cabin door closed behind them, sealing them into their private world and in no time at all they were up at 40,000 feet, where it felt to Luisa like different rules applied and different possibilities awaited.

Luisa took a sip of her champagne, watching the sunset paint the scattered clouds below them in shades of gold and pink.

The private jet cruised smoothly at 45,000 feet, somewhere over the Midwest according to the in flight map displayed on the wall panel. They'd been airborne for about two hours, falling into easy conversation that flowed from professional ambitions to travel memories to shared observations about the industry they both navigated so carefully... a continuation of their conversation from the night before.

Celine had been the perfect host, fussing over Luisa's comfort although not too much, sharing stories that made her laugh, and never once making her feel that this spontaneous journey was anything but natural.

The luxury and size of the private jet impressed Luisa without overwhelming her... she'd experienced enough exposure to genuine wealth and luxury throughout her modelling career to appreciate the custom leather seating and hand crafted fixtures without being overawed by them, and enjoyed being the only two passengers in a cabin that looked like it could take fifteen.

When the flight attendant discreetly appeared to refill their glasses, Celine made a small gesture that Luisa didn't quite catch. The attendant nodded with professional neutrality.

"We won't be needing anything else for a while, Marie," Celine said, her accent making even this simple statement sound elegant. "Perhaps you could take your break now? We'll call if we need you."

"Of course, Ms. Rousseau. I'll be in the forward cabin." She turned to Luisa. "The call button is here," she indicated a subtle panel next to Luisa's seat, "should you require anything."

Luisa smiled. "Thank you Marie."

As Marie disappeared through the forward door, sliding it closed behind her, the cabin's atmosphere subtly shifted... the distant hum of the engines seemed to grow more pronounced in the new privacy. Celine's gaze, when it returned to Luisa, had changed too... more focused, more intentional.

"So," Celine said, swirling the champagne in her glass with a shy smile on her face, "do you remember what I mentioned last night when you left? About something I've always wanted to try?"

Luisa felt a flutter of anticipation in her stomach that had nothing to do with the slight turbulence they'd passed through moments before. "The mile high club," she said, her voice quieter than she'd intended. "I remember."

Celine's smile was slow and deliberate. She raised an eyebrow. "Are you still interested?"

Instead of answering with words, Luisa waited a few moments, holding eye contact with Celine and then slowly, deliberately put down her champagne glass and reached across the small table between them, her fingers finding Celine's wrist. She traced small circles on the sensitive skin there, feeling Celine's pulse quicken under her touch, seeing Celine's lips part ever so slightly at the sensation and her cheeks take on a slightly redder shade.

"Show me the rest of the plane," Luisa said, her intent clear.

Celine stood, taking Luisa's hand.

"Papa would be mad with me..." Celine teased.

"We'd better make this count then," teased Luisa back.

They moved toward the rear of the aircraft, past the main seating and dining area into a short corridor that ended at a door. Celine slid it open to reveal a compact but luxurious bedroom suite... a double bed along one wall with white sheets dominated the space, and a shower room was visible through the door at the far end. Large windows on either side gave a view of the sunset sky, casting a deep golden glow across the bed.

"This is..." Luisa began, but Celine's mouth on hers silenced her, the kiss deeper and more urgent than their exchanges at the hotel the night before had been. There was a new hunger in Celine's touch, a mix of the anticipation that had been building between them throughout the flight, and the transgressive thrill of what they were about to get up to.

Luisa responded in kind, her hands finding Celine's waist, pulling her closer as the door slid shut behind them. The background vibration of the aircraft created a subtle energy that seemed to resonate through their bodies as they pressed against each other.

"I've been thinking about this since we took off," Celine whispered against Luisa's neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin on her ear lobe. "Watching you sip champagne, listening to you talk about your work... I've barely been able to focus on the conversation."

Luisa felt a thrill of pleasure at the admission, at the idea that this sophisticated, controlled woman had been secretly distracted by her desire for her. Her hands found the buttons of Celine's dress, quickly unfastening them to reveal the pale lace bra beneath.

"We should be quiet," Celine whispered, even as her own hands worked at the belt on Luisa's jeans. "The walls are discrete but not soundproof."

The constraint added another layer to their encounter, the need for restraint, for controlled pleasure. Luisa found herself hyperaware of every sound... their quickened breathing, the rustle of fabric as clothes came off, the almost imperceptible creak of the bed as they lay down on it together.

Soon all of the clothing had gone, the two of them naked together, just as they had been the night before. Their bodies picked up where they'd left off earlier, Luisa marvelling at how quickly they'd learned to read each other, how intuitively she seemed to know what would make Celine react.

"Like this again?" Luisa asked, her voice a whisper as her fingers traced patterns across Celine's inner thigh, deliberately avoiding going straight between her legs.

Celine's response was to take hold of Luisa's wrist, guiding her hand firmly to exactly where she wanted it. "Like this," she corrected with a smile.

The plane hit a small pocket of turbulence, the slight jolting adding an unexpected dimension to their movements. Luisa steadied herself, one hand braced against the headboard as she leaned lower to take Celine's breast in her mouth, her tongue circling the already hardened nipple. Celine's fingers ran through Luisa's hair, flexing with pleasure but taking care not to hurt Luisa.

"I want to taste you," Celine said, her voice quiet but certain. She rolled over, reversing their dynamic so that Luisa now lay beneath her. Her mouth started to kiss down Luisa's body, collarbone, breasts, stomach and then further, each kiss creating a little spark of arousal in Luisa, building the anticipation.

When Celine's tongue finally started to touch Luisa at her core, Luisa had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. The pleasure was intensified by the need for silence, by the strange intimacy of their location, by the knowledge that they were suspended in the air between cities, between their normal lives, in a space where different rules felt like they applied.

Celine's technique was passionate, making up for what she may have lacked in experience with enthusiasm, a clear desire to give Luisa pleasure. Luisa found herself approaching the crest quickly, too quickly, and tugged gently at Celine's hair.

"Together," she whispered. "I want us together."

Understanding immediately, Celine moved up Luisa's body, their lips and tongues meeting in a passionate, messy kiss, Luisa able to taste herself on Celine. They shifted, adjusting their position until Luisa was under Celine, their legs tangled together, while Celine's centre was directly against Luisa's, creating a friction between them that sent waves of pleasure rolling through both women.

They moved together, establishing a rhythm that built steadily in intensity. The gentle vibration of the aircraft seemed to enhance every sensation, every point of contact between their bodies. Luisa watched Celine's face above her, the normally composed features transformed by pleasure, her eyes half closed, her lower lip caught between her teeth in concentration.

"You're beautiful like this," Luisa whispered before kissing Celine again, her hands on Celine's hips guiding the pace as Celine ground against her, while Celine leaned on one arm with the other braced against the head of the bed, her hair falling around her face.

Their pace quickened, both women moaning and gasping as each of them felt their orgasm building. Luisa felt the familiar tightening deep within, the gathering wave of pleasure. Celine's breathing grew more ragged, her rhythm more insistent.

They came together, their bodies tensing and relaxing in perfect harmony, the pleasure cascading through them in waves that seemed to match the air currents carrying them eastward, Celine burying her face in a pillow to stifle her cries of pleasure, Luisa moaning into Celine's shoulder, her fingers dug into Celine's ass as she tried to pull her into her harder.

For long moments afterward they remained entangled, catching their breath, their sweaty skin cooling in the air conditioned cabin.

Eventually, Celine rolled to lie beside Luisa, their shoulders touching, their breathing gradually returning to normal. Outside the windows, darkness had fallen completely, a full moon visible.

"Well," Celine said finally, a smile that Luisa could hear in her voice, "I can now officially say I've joined the mile high club. And with a much more attractive partner than most people manage."

Luisa laughed softly, turning her head to look at Celine. "Me too..." She looked around. "In nicer surroundings I'll bet too. Was it as much fun as you hoped?"

"Better," Celine replied, smiling. She reached out to push some hair from Luisa's face, a gentle, tender touch. "Though I'm not sure if it was the altitude or the company."

"I'm voting for both," Luisa said, taking Celine's hand and pressing her lips against her palm in a slow, affectionate kiss.

They lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the moon outside the window, before Celine spoke again.

"We should probably get dressed before Marie begins to wonder if we've fallen out of the back of the plane." She paused. "She's discrete, but best we don't put her in a position where she might have to tell my father about this."

Luisa nodded, though neither of them moved immediately. There was something peaceful about that moment, suspended in the air between cities in a space that existed only for them.

Finally, they both sat up and began searching for discarded clothing, helping each other dress with the casual intimacy of lovers. Celine paused before opening the bedroom door, drawing Luisa in for one more kiss.

"We still have three hours until New York," she whispered in Luisa's ear. "Plenty of time to become repeat members of the club later, if you're interested."

Luisa smiled and turned her face to look at Celine with a grin. "I thought you'd never ask."