The Billionaire And The B And B

Jasper Jackson's in Town

Jasper's POV

God! I was so frustrated everything was going wrong.

First off we had torrential rain, then an emergency at the office, that delayed me over an hour. Once I sorted that out and fired the imbeciles responsible for the mess.
The car had a puncture, I would have fired the driver, but after he got soaked changing the tyre, I needed him to get me to the airport on time and quite frankly forgot to fire him when we got to the company's private hanger.

Then climbing into one of my company's private jets, only to find take off was delayed because of the weather.

I plugged in my laptop and called Scott Woodruff the Producer on this Historical drama and filled him in on my predicament.

On checking my mail, I found there was nothing that couldn't wait.

"Would you like a drink Mr Jackson" a sultry female voice asked.

I looked up to see an attractive redhead in her hostess uniform, leaning slightly forward to address me with a smile on her face.

"Scotch, neat no ice"

"Certainly sir, anything else"

"Yes" looking straight into her grey eyes. "Bring it and a drink for yourself into the bedroom"

I stood up and made my way to the back of the plane.

'might as well enjoy my time stuck on this plane ' I thought.

After two hours a knock on the bedroom door and a small voice muttered.

"Mr Jackson we are clear to take off now"

"Good I'll be out in a minute" pushing the naked hostess of me and dismissed her with a wave of the hand. As she climbed out the bed her naked ass sashaying across the room.

" Make that half an hour" I yelled.

"Yes sir" came the muffled reply.
As the hostess reached down to get her panties , I crept up and smacked her ass, making her squeal and jump, as she turned to me.

I grabbed her hand and dragged her back to the bed, where I quickly pushed her face down on the mattress with her ass in the air and with out any preamble entered her from behind making her exhale and release a tiny squeak.

An hour later, as we soared over the atlantic, relaxing in one of the comfortable leather chairs as the blushing hostess served me another scotch, as she leant and placed it on the table in front of me, I whispered in her ear.

"Be on my return flight" in a tone that left no room for argument.

"Yes sir" she muttered blushing even more, before scurrying of to the galley kitchen, I smirked she was good, I would keep her around for a while just in case a pick me up was needed.

The flight was event free and after catching up on some work, eating an excellent meal and a power nap, I was ready for England.

nodding at the flight crew on exiting the plane, I winked at the hostess making her blush again. Sliding into the waiting car to take me from the private hangers to Heathrow's immigration control and customs.

Free of all the red tape, we sped away from London on the M40 towards Oxford and my final destination Woodstock. I gazed at the madness that was motorway driving in England and shook my head, we hit the customary queues of traffic as we neared our destination, Oxford a particular nightmare when trying to enter or leave.

What is it with England there are roadworks and traffic lights everywhere plus they are obsessed with bloody roundabout's, no wonder it takes so long to get anywhere.

Finally we arrived at Woodstock and turned into the High Street driving down past the ancient towering town houses and clutter of shops to the Bear Hotel, that sat opposite the museum and a wooden construction set out the front, which the driver informed me were the stocks.

striding into the reception area, leaving the porter to fetch my bags, I noticed Scott holding the bar up, waving a glass of scotch at me, I nodded and headed to the reception desk.

"Good evening Mr Jackson, welcome to the Bear Hotel, I hope you ...." rattled on the receptionist, a young girl, no older than 18 years old, with brace's on her teeth and her dyed bright red hair tied in a ponytail.

"Yer, yer, yer" I interrupted rather abruptly, as I wanted to get acquainted with the scotch waiting in the bar.

"Where do I sign and key now" holding my hand out for the pen or key, which ever she handed me first.

"Oh, certainly Mr Jackson, please sign here and here's your key, the deluxe suite, where Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor stayed"

"Thanks" I scribbled my signature and snatched the keys from her, making her gasp, before making my way to the bar, I threw the keys at the porter.

"Put them in the room, and bring the keys to the bar"

I pushed open the door and snatched the drink of the bar before swigging it straight back, slamming the empty glass back down, nodding to the barman for a refill, as he came over, I turned to Scott.

"Thanks, needed that, another?" nodding at his empty glass.

"Yer"

Scott and I got along only because we both didn't take shit and we needed each other.

"Scotch and a refill for my friend, put it on my tab"

We grabbed our drinks and headed over to the fire place and sprawled out on a rather comfortable sofa, we talked about the up coming film and my expectations and his vision, breaking only to call the waitress over to refill our drinks.

Suddenly there way a commotion in the reception area, before the door swung open and in stepped Hollywood's hotest new star, not my words I hasten to add, some celebrity magazines.

Brent Simons spotted us and headed over, leaving swooning females in his wake.

"Hi guys, great to see you" he said, jumping spectacularly over the back of the chair opposite and landing on the seat.

"How does one get a drink around here"

"Bar" I growled pointing to the bar, I couldn't stand egotistical, self obsessed movie stars.

I quickly turned to Scott.

"Well Scott, gotta go see you in the morning to visit the castle"

"Palace" chipped in Brent, "JJ it's a palace not a castle"

"Yer whatever" I muttered walking towards the door needing to get some rest and get away from Brent.

Reaching my suite, I threw the keys on the bed and headed into the bathroom, needing a shower.

As the stress was washed away, I felt a little more energised and decided to watch a movie, helping myself to another drink from the bar.

I sat and flicked through the channels, not finding anything to interest me, in the end giving in to my tiredness, knocking back my drink, I changed and climbed into the reasonably comfortable bed and before long drifted off to sleep.