Chapter 36
Tomorrow comes
Scarlett
I’ve never been to Selnoa, but people who’ve visited tend to praise the city for its great vibes. I’m staying only for an afternoon, so I won’t see any of the city’s major attractions.
From the tiny oval window of the airplane, I keep my eye out for Rount Maletia, the historic landmark that is said to rise above the rest of the buildings like a majestic queen, a proud architectural achievement of humanity.
First, we fly over lush rolling hills, then the city with its organized chaos of homes and buildings, and finally, the Mediterranean, my favorite sea in the world.
Sadly, I didn’t catch the landmark.
When we touch down, my stomach settles with the knowledge that at this time tomorrow, I’ll be home.
From the seat across, Endo watches me.
This time tomorrow, there will be no Endo.
The hollowness in my chest tells me I might miss him. Probably in the way a captive misses the man who brought her food. The handler who took care of her. And sometimes kissed her between her legs.
My gaze finds his lips, and he licks them.
“Do you want a parting gift?” The way he looks at me tells me what kind of gift he has in mind. He’s taking off my clothes without touching me. Lust does that. It’s why it’s one of the deadly sins most people can’t resist. It masks itself as desire, longing, love, even.
I recognize it for what it is and glance at the bathroom. If you can’t join the Mile High Club, what’s the next best thing? Probably not “the bathroom on the runway” club. Maybe that’s why I want to join it. It’s lonely.
The plane makes a full stop. The three people sitting on the couch stand up, prepared to disembark. I remain in my seat.
Endo lifts an eyebrow.
I lift mine.
“Wha…” Slada starts, but cuts off the question. She either got the idea or the cabin vibes are enough of a clue. Either way, his people vacate, and the moment the cabin door closes, Endo drops all the window blinds.
Once done, he captures my face and tilts it up, crushes his mouth over mine, and forces my jaw to open by depressing it with his thumbs on either side of my face. I’ve never been kissed this way. So forcefully, lustfully. It’s as if he wants to steal my breath away.
He succeeds.
The taste of him is masculine. Peppermint, I remember tasting a while back.
My shoulders slump, and I moan, almost melting into the leather seat.
Endo understands capitulation and slows down, putting a knee between my legs.
He slides his leg forward until his knee hits my clit. Arousal shoots up my belly.
I grab his thigh and dig my fingernails in so I can bring his knee closer and rub my clit on it. Endo groans.
I like the sound. When I open my eyes, I find his are closed. I think he’s enjoying this moment.
Lust won.
Over both of us.
I don’t fight the urge to unbuckle his belt and take him into my mouth so he can groan like the lustful beast he is once more. I want to make him come. I want to watch him as he falls apart. I want to please him, and the revelation bothers me.
I shouldn’t want to please him, and yet he wants to please me as well. His head was between my legs.
Even as I suck him, his fingers replace his knee and stroke me between my legs.
Endo’s wide and large, a perfectly full fit for my mouth, and once he makes me come, he cups my cheeks and widens my mouth by stretching it with his thumbs at the corners. If I thought I would take something from Endo, something like control of the situation, I was mistaken.
Endo watches me from above. “Looks to me like I’m the one receiving a gift.” He fucks my mouth fast. I can tell he’s close to an orgasm, but he fights it. When his breathing becomes ragged, his eyes start to close, his jaw tightens, I cup his balls and squeeze.
Endo sucks in a breath before his body locks. I fit as much of him into my mouth as I can. The mushroom head blocks my airway, and he ejaculates down my throat.
I don’t need to swallow because everything slides down smoothly. With him still in my mouth, I watch him watching me down his nose, his eyes at half-mast, his breaths evening out.
Endo pulls back and tucks himself into his pants, then offers me a hand. I take it and rise to meet him. Again, he doesn’t step back, effectively invading my space. Since I just sucked his dick, the close proximity doesn’t bother me anymore.
You don’t say.
“I’m never going to see you again,” I say. He was my captor and caused me the most stressful time of my life. I don’t understand why there’s a lump in my throat or why my chest feels like someone’s sitting on it.
I sated my lust. There’s evidence. My panties are wet from where he made me come with his fingers.
Everything else is anxiety.
“It’s for the best,” he says. “But if you do see me again, I’m taking you. And this time, it’ll be for myself.”
Would you look at that? I’m not the only one with confused feelings. “You could ask me out to dinner, you know.”
Endo blinks as if it never occurred to him to ask. “I could.”
“You could leave yourself open to my rejection. I bet you won’t.”
“You wouldn’t tell me no. That’s one. And two. Even if you did, I’ll take you out anyway, so win-win.”
I pinch his lips shut with my fingers. “You really need a muzzle.”
Endo pulls me against him.
Despite the fact that he just came, he’s erect. “And a chastity trap,” I add.
Endo laughs.
Someone knocks on the cabin door. Three evenly spaced-out knocks followed by a pause, then two more, then another softer one after a long pause. It’s a coded knock if ever I heard one.
Endo’s smile drops, and he lifts the window shade. I peek outside as well.
A convoy of black SUVs with tinted windows that look like something government officials would use to transport the president rolls toward our plane. My dad’s entourage.
I swallow and wipe my mouth in case some of my captor’s cum escaped. In under a minute, I’ll go off and kiss my dad’s cheeks with the same mouth. I wonder if that’s why Endo did it, but then I remember I unbuckled his pants and sucked him off. That’s all on me.
“Eight cars,” he says.
“That’s a lot of cars.”
“Eight of them,” he repeats.
“I get the impression the number is significant.”
“Can I come in?” Slada asks from behind the closed cabin doors.
Endo lets her in, and, hands on her hips, she says, “Eight cars. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Mmhm,” Endo answers.
When he looks at me, I shrug. “Given that I’m in the dark over here, I’m thinking my dad considers you armed and dangerous, so he needed extra manpower. Hence the eight cars.”
“Full of armed men,” Slada says.
“They could also be women,” I add.
Slada giggles, and her feminine, soft laughter strikes me as uncharacteristic for her. But maybe the prospect of a gunfight brings out her girly side. Hey, I love treating diseases that cause pain and death, so if that tickles my fancy, gunfights could be her thing.
She removes her vest and hands it to me.
I accept. “Do you have a spare for yourself?”
“Of course,” she says. “I come prepared.”
“You know,” I say as I examine this attire I’ve never worn before, “in another lifetime, we would’ve been friends.”
“We don’t get another lifetime.” She pauses when I look up. “Put on your vest.”
We don’t get another lifetime. I slip on the vest, and the first thing I notice is how heavy it feels. “But what if we do get another lifetime?”
Endo takes off his shirt, and she helps him with his vest, which is much thinner and tighter than mine.
“I don’t want to know if I get another chance at life.”
“Why not?”
Slada purses her lips and tilts her head, her ponytail sliding sideways.
“If I know I get two, I’ll fuck up this one.
I’ll take this life and the people I’ve met for granted.
I’ll start thinking I get a second chance and that time is infinite.
I’ll make mistakes, thinking I can fix them. I’ll become callous and uncaring.”
Huh. “I’ll think on this when I get home. Thanks.”
“Anytime. Just keeping it real.” She pulls out a gun and checks the magazine, then pushes it back into its holster. “Good God, how I wish I could use a machete. Amen.”
Was that a prayer?
Endo’s muscles flex as he buttons his white shirt over the vest. He shrugs on a suit jacket. Weapons check is next. Endo prepares for an armed conflict the way a surgeon scrubs in for a procedure.
“Do you want one?” he asks me as Slada hands him a piece of gum. He chews violently, his jaw working out the mystery and the anger at the eight-car surprise my dad arrived in.
Palm out, I say, “Yes, please.”
He hands me a gun. “Just aim and shoot at any motherfucker you feel like.”
I pick up the gun with the tips of my fingers and dangle it before Endo. “I thought you were offering me gum.”
“Take the pistol,” Slada says.
I would never. “Any motherfucker?”
“That’s what I said.” Endo rolls his shoulders and cracks his knuckles, then shoves more chewing gum into his mouth. He’s freaking me out now.
“What if that mofo is you?” I ask, gun still dangling from my fingers.
In a second, Endo maneuvers the gun into my palm and points it under his chin.
His eyes are wild. Completely feral. I don’t know if there’s a man or a beast under his skin.
“You want to end me? Do it. Do it right now so I can hunt you down and have my way with you in hell. We can spend an eternity together. I’m in. You in? Let’s do this.”
My hands sweat. I try to tug away, but he holds my wrist for a few beats before smiling and putting the gun away in the back of his pants.
“You want gum?” he asks as if shoving a loaded gun under his chin is normal.
Jesus. “No.”
“Good, I have no more left,” Slada says, then she leaves the cabin, closing the door behind her.
Once we’re alone again, I expect Endo to say a few parting words, but he moves toward the exit.
“A gentleman would let the lady go first,” Endo says. “He would open the door for her. You want me to be a gentleman now and open the door so you can take the first bullet instead of me?”
I suck in a breath. Endo Macarley is a living wall. He’s protecting me and being very grumpy about it because it shows he cares. Or maybe I’m romanticizing him, and all he needs is for his collateral to survive so he can get his brother back.
“My dad won’t shoot me.”
Endo gives me his profile. “That’s not your dad out there.”