Chapter 3 Lila
LILA
For a moment, I sit frozen in my seat, staring at Mikhail like he’s just spoken another language. That can be arranged. Did he really just say that? No, I must have misheard him. The adrenaline, the panic—it’s messing with my head. Surely, he didn’t mean it.
I’m about to ask, but the pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom again, jarring me back into reality.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve cleared the turbulence, and everything is stable now.
However, due to a minor technical issue with one of our engines, we’ll be making an unscheduled landing at the nearest airport for precautionary checks.
Please remain seated and follow all instructions from the cabin crew. Thank you for your understanding.”
The murmurs in the cabin swell into frustrated groans.
I glance out the window at the endless stretch of clouds and sky, my nerves still frayed despite the reassurance that we’re out of danger.
My mind should be focused on logistics—where we’re landing, how I’m going to get to New York—but all I can think about is Mikhail’s words.
His smirk lingers in my mind, replaying over and over, a maddening echo that sends heat coursing through me. I sneak a glance at him. He’s relaxed in his seat, his long legs stretched out, looking like he owns not just first class but the entire plane.
I need a minute. Or an hour. Or maybe a time machine to undo the absolute chaos that is my life.
“Excuse me,” I mumble, standing up.
Mikhail’s gaze flicks to me, his brow arching slightly, but he says nothing. I hurry down the aisle, weaving past a flight attendant, and duck into the cramped bathroom at the front of the plane.
Once inside, I lean against the door, my breaths coming out in short, uneven bursts.
The tiny space feels suffocating, but it’s better than sitting out there, under his piercing gaze.
I turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face, trying to wash away the embarrassment, the tension, the ridiculous thoughts swirling in my mind.
I grip the edges of the counter, staring at my reflection. My cheeks are flushed, my hair a mess, and my eyes—God, my eyes are still wild with the adrenaline of the last half hour.
The faint sound of footsteps outside makes me freeze. A moment later, the door handle turns, and before I can react, the door swings open.
Mikhail steps inside.
The small space feels even smaller as he closes the door behind him, the lock clicking into place. My heart lurches into my throat.
“What are you—”
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he moves toward me, his body filling the narrow bathroom like he’s taking up all the oxygen. Before I can even think to stop him, his hands are on me—one curling around the back of my neck, the other gripping my waist.
And then his mouth crashes against mine.
It’s not a question, not a request. It’s a command, and I’m powerless to do anything but obey.
His lips are firm, demanding, and I feel the sharp edge of his control unraveling as he presses me back against the counter.
My hands fly to his chest, not to push him away but to pull him closer, because the way he’s kissing me makes the ground beneath me feel unstable.
The cold edge of the counter digs into my back, but I barely notice it. All I can feel is him—his heat, his strength, the way his mouth moves over mine like he’s been starving for this moment.
My mind spins as his tongue slides into my mouth, coaxing. This is insane. This is completely insane. And yet, I don’t want him to stop.
A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest, and the vibration travels through me, making my knees weak. His hands leave my face, sliding down to my waist and pulling me flush against him.
I gasp into his mouth as his fingers slip beneath the hem of my shirt, his palms skimming the bare skin of my sides.
The cool metal of his watch grazes my stomach, and the contrast of cold and heat sends a shiver through me.
His hands roam higher, his thumbs brushing the underside of my bra, and my body arches into his touch, desperate for more.
My nipples harden to pebbles as he strokes them through the cotton of my bra. I’m pooling wet between thighs.
“Mikhail,” I whisper against his lips, my voice trembling.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his gray eyes burning with intensity. I can feel his hard cock press into my belly. His thumb strokes the edge of my jaw, his lips curving into a dark, satisfied smile. “You taste as sweet as I imagined, kiska.”
His forehead rests against mine, his gray eyes dark and heavy-lidded.
“I don’t think you misunderstood me,” he says, his voice low and rough.
I blink up at him, my heart hammering in my chest. “You…you’re serious?”
His lips curl into that maddening smirk, and his hand tightens on my waist, his thumb brushing against my hip in a way that makes my breath hitch. “Deadly serious.”
My heart pounds, my breathing ragged as he leans down again, his mouth finding my neck this time. His teeth graze my skin, followed by the soft heat of his tongue, and my knees threaten to give out entirely.
There’s a knock at the door, sharp and impatient, pulling me back to reality.
“Mikhail,” I manage, my voice breathless.
He doesn’t move right away. Instead, his hands stay firmly on my waist, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, “This isn’t over.”
Before I can respond, he straightens, adjusting his suit like nothing happened. He unlocks the door and steps out, leaving me pressed against the counter, my legs trembling and my mind racing.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my lips swollen, my skin flushed. I barely recognize the woman staring back at me.
What the hell just happened?
I step out, only to find myself face-to-face with the flight attendant from earlier. Her lips are pursed, her arms crossed, and her perfectly arched eyebrows practically touch her hairline. It’s obvious she knows.
Her gaze flicks past me toward the bathroom, then back to me, her expression dripping with disdain.
“Everything all right, ma’am?” she asks, her voice icy.
“Perfect,” I reply, pasting on a smile as fake as her nails. With a flick of my hair, I stride past her, trying to look unbothered.
I can practically feel her glare scorching my back, but I don’t dare glance over my shoulder. It’s a miracle I’m still standing, let alone attempting confidence, but every ounce of bravery I’ve summoned evaporates the moment I see him.
Mikhail.
He’s back in his seat, one ankle resting casually on his opposite knee, his hand wrapped loosely around a glass of water. When his eyes meet mine, the corner of his mouth lifts into the faintest smirk, like he knows exactly what’s running through my mind.
I quickly avert my gaze and slide into my seat, suddenly hyperaware of everything—the way my lips still tingle from his kiss, the heat of his hands that lingers on my skin. I grip the armrests and stare out the window, trying to pretend he doesn’t exist.
The plane begins its descent, and the pilot announces over the intercom that we’re landing at Harrisburg International Airport in Pennsylvania. It’s not exactly close to New York, but it’s closer than Chicago. That’s something, I guess.
But instead of relief, dread settles in the pit of my stomach.
I still have to figure out how I’m going to get to New York.
Randall, my school principal, is counting on me to be there.
He’s supposed to be handling everything for this big educational conference we’re hosting, but of course he dumped the responsibility on me at the last minute.
If I don’t make it, the whole thing could fall apart, and I’ll be the one blamed.
The plane dips lower, and I clutch the armrests tighter, as if holding them will somehow keep my sanity intact. Beside me, Mikhail shifts, leaning just slightly into my space.
“You can’t ignore me forever, kiska,” he says, his voice low and rich like a dark promise.
My breath catches, but I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the window. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”
“You were.”
“I’m not now.”
He chuckles, and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. “Then look at me.”
I swallow hard, refusing to turn my head. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” I blurt out, my voice sharper than I intended. “About…you know. I was scared. That’s all.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then, “I see.”
His tone is impossible to read, and I finally risk a glance at him. His expression is calm, but there’s something in his eyes—something that makes my stomach flip and twist.
Before I can say anything else, the plane lands with a gentle thud, and the cabin fills with the usual shuffle of people unbuckling their seat belts and gathering their things. I exhale, relieved to have an excuse to escape this conversation.
We file out of the plane, stepping into the modest Harrisburg International Airport. It’s smaller and quieter than the major hubs, which only emphasizes the fact that I’m now hours away from where I need to be.
I stand in the terminal, pulling out my phone to check the distance to New York. Four hours by car. Great.
“Lila.”
I glance up to find Mikhail standing in front of me. His hands are casually in his pockets, but his expression is anything but casual. “I assume you’re headed to New York.”
“Yes,” I say, hesitatingly. I’ve no idea where he’s heading with this.
“I’m headed there, as well,” he says.
“Well, yes. We were on the same flight,” I say.
He chuckles. “I appreciate your candor.”
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“I’m not used to being spoken to like this,” he says, his gaze making me shiver.
Who are you? I want to ask.
“I can take you.”
I stare at him, my brain scrambling for a reason to say no, but I come up blank. Between the conference, my tight budget, and the four-hour drive looming ahead of me, the offer is tempting. Too tempting.
“Why would you do that?” I ask, crossing my arms.