Chapter 14
14
LINCOLN
I slam my suitcase shut as I remember the events of last night. How I let myself get carried away with the evening and my body’s reaction to Kylie. I can’t believe I almost kissed her. If I hadn’t been interrupted, there was a chance I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.
The moment I saw her in front of me, looking like the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on, I knew I was screwed. What I didn’t expect was for her to run away from me and leave me stranded for the rest of the evening.
Now we are about to get on a five-hour plane ride with just the two of us and nothing to break the tension.
Why did she leave last night? Does she hate me that much that the mere idea of someone like me kissing her is revolting?
There’s a lot she doesn’t know about me. I’m not the monster she makes me out to be.
Any other assistant who would ditch their duties and leave me at an event without so much as a text would be fired.
I should fire her. There have been many reasons for me to fire her. But, dammit, I know I’m not going to. Apparently, I’d rather torture myself with these insane feelings of equal parts desire and frustration.
The only communication I’ve had from Kylie since last night was a morning text, letting me know she’d have a car ready to take us to the airport at eight in the morning.
When I get downstairs, she’s already packed up and in the back seat of the car. I toss my luggage in the trunk and take a seat next to her. She keeps her head facing the window, like greeting me is too much of an effort.
I scoff. “Good morning, Kylie.”
“Morning, Mr. Monroe,” she says sternly.
“So, I’m back to Mr. Monroe?” I exhale with annoyance evident in my tone.
She finally decides to turn her head toward me and look me in the eye. “It’s probably for the best. Don’t you think? After all, you only asked me to call you Lincoln because Galvin had gotten in your head.”
Unbelievable. The nerve of her to deflect what happened between us last night and make it all about that man. If I open my mouth, there’s no way anything productive or even remotely kind is going to come out. So, I take a move out of her playbook and look out the window all the way to the airport.
The clouds are dark and ominous, like the vibe in the vehicle.
Just as we grab our luggage and walk into the VIP terminal, it starts to drizzle outside. We hand our luggage to the stewardess, who brings them behind the desk.
We get led out to our private jet immediately, which is just the way I like it. I hate waiting … for anything. The team assigned to me always knows how much I hate waiting around these terminals.
Once we get settled in our seats, I look outside and hear a loud crack of lightning. Dammit, this’d better not delay our flight.
“It’s really coming down out there,” she says with a bit of uneasiness in her voice.
“I’m sure it will be fine. I’ve taken off in the rain too many times to count.”
Just then, the pilot walks in from the cockpit. I’ve flown with him several times before. He doesn’t come back here unless he has to deliver bad news.
“Mr. Monroe,” he says in a way that I know what’s coming next.
I close my eyes briefly, waiting for it.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we are going to have to delay the flight. The eye of the storm is right here in LA. It’s not safe for takeoff.”
There it is. The words I’ve been dreading. Of course I’m going to be stuck in this plane with Kylie, who can barely even look at me.
“How long do you think it will take for it to be safe for takeoff?” I ask in the calmest voice I can manage.
He sighs. “I don’t know exactly. From what the radar is telling us, it could be another hour. Maybe longer.”
“Just keep me updated,” I say as I unbuckle my belt and stand up.
He nods his head and disappears, likely not wanting to be around the foul mood he knows he just put me in.
I walk over to the bar and grab a crystal glass. I pull a cube out of the ice tray made specifically for whiskey and toss it into my glass. Then I grab the most expensive whiskey they have and pour myself two fingers.
Instead of taking a seat in the front, I head to the back and sit down on one of the white sofas. The rain is coming down aggressively now, hitting the plane and creating a rumbling sound all around us.
After a couple of sips of whiskey, I lay my head back on the sofa and try to relax. It doesn’t help that I can feel her presence even though we are on opposite ends of the plane. I can feel her eyes on me, and I’ll bet if I opened them, she’d be nervously chewing on her bottom lip while analyzing what she should be doing right now.
The fact that I’ve studied her this much, that I know her this well, fuels the anger in me.
“Do you plan on ignoring me this entire flight?” My deep voice cuts through the silence.
“I’m working,” she says as she types away on her laptop.
I watch her across the cabin as I remain sprawled out on the sofa, the top couple of buttons of my shirt now undone.
“Working?” I ask. “Really? Because my phone has no service, and seeing as this is my jet, I know we don’t have Wi-Fi on right now. But by all means, keep working, Miss Ricci.”
Instead of admitting the truth, she keeps typing on her keyboard. “Have you ever heard of a Word document? I don’t need Wi-Fi for that.”
“Cut the shit, Kylie.”
She stops typing and looks up at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? You mean you haven’t been avoiding me since last night?” My jaw clenches as I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees.
“Not at all. I was just feeling a little under the weather. I’m fine now. I’m sorry I missed the rest of the event.”
I know she’s lying because she can’t hold eye contact with me for longer than a second. Also, I work with the highest level of untrustworthy bastards every damn day. I know when someone is lying. And there is nothing more I hate than being lied to.
I stand up and slam my drink down on the counter in front of me. “Stop lying to me!”
I take quick strides down the aisle until I’m only inches from her, then cross my arms. Her head snaps up to meet me, but I see her straighten her spine like she’s ready to go to battle with me. The response makes me equally pissed and aroused.
I lean down and place my hands on the back of her seat, caging her in. Her breath hitches.
“Are you going to keep lying to me, or are you going to tell me the real reason you are acting like this?”
Her eyes look quickly left and then right. Then she tosses her laptop onto the seat next to her and stands up. She laughs nervously as she tries to turn away from me. “You’re acting insane.”
I grab her arm and spin her around, now completely unable to control the feelings raging inside of me. “No. What I’m doing is being honest. You are the one acting .”
“I am not,” she says as she stomps her foot in anger. “Stop saying that!”
“No!” I shout. “Not until you tell me what the hell is going on. Why did you leave last night? Why have you been ignoring me today?”
Her accelerated breathing matches my own as we face off, only inches apart from each other. She seems to be weighing her options before I see a glimpse of defeat.
“Fine! You want the truth? You want to hear how badly I wanted you to kiss me last night? How crazy you’ve been driving me lately? How I’ve pleasured myself twice while thinking of you? Is that what you want to hear? That I want you?!”
My sharp intake of breath echoes around us. Her words hit me like a physical blow. They sounded so good, coming off her lips.
“Say that again,” I demand.
Her eyes challenge me as her jaw tightens. “What? That I want you?!”
That’s all it takes for my control to completely snap. My hands find her waist, and I pull her flush against me. Then my mouth crashes down onto hers.
The kiss is ferocious, savage, like every single moment we denied our desires ignited into a flame that can’t be put out. I can’t stop the way my mouth takes everything from her, not letting up for a second. My tongue dips into her mouth, and she leans further into me with a moan.
I move my hands to her hair and grip it tightly as I tilt her head to gain better access. Her hands glide up to my chest, where her fingers tighten around my pecs. I groan into her mouth, loving the way it feels to have her touch me like this.
Just as I’m moving my hands down her back to grab her ass, we get disrupted.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir,” the captain says awkwardly. “It appears the storm has passed over quicker than anticipated. We are going to be taking off in just a couple of minutes. Please get seated and buckle up.”
After he disappears back into the cockpit, I look down at Kylie. Her breaths are still shallow, and her lips are red and swollen from the intensity of our kiss.
“We’ll continue this another time,” I say in a raspy voice.
She nods quickly and steps out of my arms. Then she gets back to her seat as if nothing ever happened.
Instead of pushing her on anything, I take my original seat on the other side of the plane and buckle up.
The entire flight, I can’t help but watch her and wonder what is so different about her. Not only does she not treat me like a man with the amount of money and power that I have, but there is something else about her that seems unlike anyone I’ve been with.