Chapter Seven, Mile High
The hum of the private jet engine was strong enough to make me vibrate.
I leaned back in the wide leather seat, letting my fingers skim lazily across the edge of the whiskey glass I’d set on the armrest. Outside the window, there was nothing but endless black, the occasional flicker of lights far below disappearing under thick clouds.
My whiskey was aged just right. A perfectly smoky drink, with the right amount of ice cubes and enough to make me smile despite my nerves.
As I sipped, I unlocked my phone and opened the text thread with my cousin, Caro.
Giovanni
Landing in Birmingham in four hours. Be on time. I’m in a rush.
No response. I stared at the screen for a moment before tossing the phone onto the table in front of me. Typical man. They were always far too slow at texting for my liking. I needed an instant reply, not something that took three business days.
Across the aisle, Heather’s laughter broke through my thoughts.
She was curled up in one of the seats, legs tucked under her, scrolling through Atlas’ tablet with a grin plastered across her face.
Every so often, she’d make some excited noise or wave her screen in Atlas’s direction, trying to get him to look.
He, of course, was buried in his laptop, but still made sure to respond to every joke, comment, or giggle.
No matter how busy he was, he always put her first. It was rather sweet, even if it made me feel like I needed to up my game.
“Can you come and help me for a second, amore mio?”
Instantly, she stood up, crossing the cabin with an exaggerated sway of her hips, and dropped herself into my lap. Her hands found their way to my shoulders, and her grin turned mischievous.
“I always knew you were too dumb to do hard things.” She said, her voice teasing. “You need to relax and let me take over. I’m sure I can figure out this gang business easier than you, Reaper.”
“I am relaxed.” I slid my hands to her waist. “Giovanni.”
“My name is Heather, actually.” She raised an eyebrow, leaning in until her nose was almost touching mine. “You’re also a terrible liar, you know that?”
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “Says you. Most of what comes out of your mouth when you’re not insulting me is thoroughly false.”
“And yet,” she said, her grin widening, “you love me.”
“Do I now?” I teased, though my voice softened, betraying the truth.
Her eyes sparkled, and she kissed me—a soft brush of her lips at first, teasing, testing, but with enough heat to send my thoughts scattering. Her weight settled comfortably against me as I deepened the kiss, my hand sliding up to cradle the back of her neck.
Heather always had this way of making me forget, of pulling me out of my head when I started sinking too far into it. She tasted like honey and something sweeter, like she was the antidote to the bitterness that had followed me my entire life.
“Reaper,” she whispered between kisses, “have you ever been in the mile high club?”
“No.” My smug grin was large. “Have you?” I moved my hand, squeezing her waist in warning. “And you know it’s Gio. Not Reaper, stop being a brat.”
She pulled back so she could unbutton my shirt, smiling away without a care for most of my words. “This is my first time on a plane. I’m not a snobby rich girl. I did classy peasant things like take the bus and walk.”
“And yet, your first time on a plane is for a private jet?”
“That’s because I’m a trophy wife now. I’m all about being a classy bitch.” She trailed kisses along my collarbone, leaving glossy marks behind. “And as a classy bitch, I wanted to know something.”
“Sure.”
She leaned in, whispering in my ear. “Do you want to become a member of the mile high club with me? I slept with Atlas first, so I wanted to give you a first too. Make it even.”
A single look at my expression gave her my answer. But I nodded anyway as she started grinding on my lap, hips rolling.
Her head cocked, blue hair fluttering around her face. “Do you think I’m pretty, Reaper?”
“Obviously.” I sighed. “And I am not continuing these games with you. If you call me Reaper again, I will get Atlas to spank you until you can’t sit down for a week.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ever so slowly, she leaned back, using my hold on her to keep her upright. With careful fingers, she slid her top off, dropping it onto the leather seat next to me. “I thought you liked watching me dance. I can’t dance if I’m being punished.”
“You know I like it.” She ground harder whilst I leaned back, spreading my legs wider and getting comfortable. “I spent more hours than I can count watching you on my stage, Heather. I used to pretend you were dancing just for me. But you can dance with a sore ass. I’ve seen you do worse.”
She grabbed my phone off the chair and tapped a couple of buttons.
Random club music started playing just loud enough for it to work as she danced.
Okay, it wasn’t so much as dance, as it was rubbing herself all over me and grinding.
But I would have had to be dead to not enjoy it. Hell, even dead, I would have had fun.
What kind of man didn’t get hard watching his beautiful woman, in nothing but a see-through blue bra and thong, writhe all over him and give him a show? I had eyes that worked perfectly, and they knew we watched something thoroughly enjoyable.
Something that even made Atlas pause whatever he was doing, so he could put his greedy eyes our way, too.
He didn’t join in. He made no effort to move at all, even when Heather unhooked her bra.
Nor when she yanked at my belt, undoing it and my jeans just enough that she could free my cock from my boxers.
I could see the urge to move dancing behind his eyes.
His inner monster was clearly desperate to come over and take control. But he couldn’t.
“Stay there and watch.” Heather ordered him. “I want to make Gio feel better, and I want to see how you like waiting for a change.”
“Am I getting special treatment, amore mio? How kind.” Panting just a little, I wriggled further back in the chair as she straddled me properly.
Atlas snorted. “Watching you fuck is hardly a punishment, malyshka. You’re just giving me the kind of show I like.
” He placed his laptop on the little table near him and sat back, arms behind his head, ankles crossed.
Thoroughly comfortable. Even more so when he pulled his phone out, no doubt hitting record on his camera.
The dirty fucker had a video collection of us all. We’d watched it together once or twice.
I didn’t mind his eyes being on me. Neither did Heather. She appeared to enjoy the attention as she sat on me after pulling her thong to the side. A whimper escaped her pretty lips, and I leaned forward to cover it with a kiss.
She put her hands on my shoulder for support, staring right into my soul when she pulled back.
“Keep your eyes on me, Gio.” She demanded. “I want to see your eyes roll when you fill me up.”
“Seeing as you asked so nicely…” My eyes went wide as she bounced.
Her movements were slow, careful. With the softness that she knew I preferred. There wasn’t a single dig of her nails into my flesh, or filthy words whispered in my ear. There was just Heather. Looking at me, right into my soul. Our breathing intertwined the same way it had been for weeks now.
After a while, her eyes rolled, her lips parted, and her cheeks were flushed.
I had never seen anything better. Except maybe her expression a few minutes later, when we were both close enough to screaming, that sweat dripped down my spine.
“I’m so close, Gio.” She panted, breath harsh. “Kiss me until I can’t remember how to breathe. I don’t want to scream and scare the pilot into crashing.”
“I think dying with my cock in your pussy would be a fun way to go.” I smirked, but it was easy to accept her request. Even easier to do it.
Her lip gloss didn’t taste very nice, but she did.
There were strawberries on her tongue from the sweets she’d eaten earlier.
A touch of lime from her drink, too. She tasted like a bundle of sweetness and sunshine, and I was always going to enjoy tasting her.
Clearly she did too. For her hips bucked faster, her eyes squeezed shut. She shuddered in my arms, not stopping her bouncing until I followed her into oblivion, our lips almost glued together.
When we finally broke apart our kiss, she rested her head on my shoulder, her arms still looped around my neck.
I lifted her off me just enough so I could fix my clothes.
Then I held her close, my one thumb brushing lazy circles against her side.
The other between her thighs, pushing the evidence of our love making back into her, until I was satisfied—I knew Atlas had hooked her up with birth control pills so there was minimal risk there.
For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe.
“Better?” she murmured, her voice soft.
“Yeah,” I kissed the top of her head. “Better.”
The moment didn’t last. Much to my chagrin, seeing as I had every intention of swapping our places, and seeing how my girl tasted on a plane.
“Change of plans,” Atlas suddenly said.
I turned my head to see him standing and heading towards the cockpit, his phone in one hand and his laptop tucked under his arm. He had that look in his eyes, like he was already five steps ahead of us.
“What kind of change?” I asked, straightening slightly.
“We’re diverting to Heathrow.”
I frowned, and Heather grinned. “Why?”
“John O’Malley just landed there.” His tone was clipped. Malivore, who’d been napping in a chair, even noticed the change, and her ears perked up.
I blinked, confused. “O’Malley? Why does it matter what another gang leader from a different city is doing?”
“Because Sapphire Montana is there too,” Atlas replied. “And he’s after her.”
That caught me off guard. Heather straightened on my lap, her interest clearly piqued, but my focus stayed on Atlas.
“Sapphire?” I frowned. “What’s that got to do with us?”
He exhaled sharply, setting his laptop down on the table. “Because I promised Silver I’d keep her safe, and she asked me to play hero. Now do I need to spell it all out for you, or can you not just obediently listen to my orders like Heaven does so wonderfully?”
I didn’t need to ask more. Plus, I knew better than to push Atlas when he didn’t want to talk, and he clearly didn’t want to expand.
From the little I knew of her, Silver wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, so if she cared enough to make Atlas promise to protect Sapphire, there had to be a story there.
“Alright,” I said finally, nodding. “Fair enough. Either way, helping out a Montana can only be beneficial. Let’s go.”
Heather lit up instantly, clapping her hands together. “We’re going to London? Oh my God, this is perfect! Big Ben, here I come. I’m definitely going to visit that big ass clock. Missy thought it wasn’t real. Like the moon landing.” Her eyes rolled as she scoffed.
“You’re enjoying this way too much for a potentially dangerous mission,” Atlas muttered, though there was no real bite to his words.
Heather ignored him entirely, turning her attention back to me. “Gio, tell me you’ll take me to one of those fancy tea shops. Like the ones with little sandwiches and cakes and all that stuff. I want to feel like a giant and eat tiny food.”
I offered her my pinky finger. “I’ll take you wherever you want if you promise to sit on my lap for the rest of the flight.”
“Deal,” she beamed as she hooked her finger around mine to seal our promise.
The cabin buzzed with fresh energy as Atlas adjusted the flight plan with the captain and Heather rattled off a growing list of things she wanted to see in London. I leaned back in my seat, one arm still around her waist, and let her voice fill the space instead of the thoughts in my head.
The ones that made me worry and wonder if the nightmares I had about monsters in our cabin, stealing away my little sinner, meant more than they did.