18. Katherine
18
KATHERINE
I lace my fingers through Alex’s as we approach his plane. What an amazing day. My soul needed this. Time off. Time away.
It’d been hard to say goodbye to Shon. No one keeps me grounded the way she does. Not even King.
The attendant greets us at the top of the steps. The old me would have dropped Alex’s hand, not wanting to give any ammunition to the stories about us. But if I trust his bodyguards to keep our secrets, surely I can trust his flight crew.
A little voice in the back of my mind whispers about fancy cameras and drones. The little voice isn’t wrong. In fact, it’s been proven right multiple times in the last week. Still, I silence it and squeeze Alex’s hand.
“The bed’s made up, Mr. Hunt,” the attendant says as we pass.
Pausing between the groupings of chairs, I glance back at him. “The bed?”
He nods, letting my hand go, then immediately sliding his against the small of my back and gently nudging me deeper into the plane. We pass through the section we sat in this morning to a space with a bed, a chair, and a low dresser. There’s a door beyond, open to a gleaming bathroom.
“In case you want to sleep.” He reaches into the go bag atop the dresser and pulls out a white t-shirt. Just like at Gabe’s beach house, he hands it to me, and I relish the softness.
“On the way back to New York?” It’s a short flight, and I’m not tired yet.
He steps closer, crowding me against the dresser as he slides those massive hands around my waist. I melt instantly, loving how safe and desired I feel with him.
“Run away with me.”
My jaw goes slack. Run away... from King? And Gabe?
“Just for the weekend,” he amends quickly, and I relax against him. “I’ve already run the idea past the guys.”
The thrill I get at those words.
The guys.
My guys.
What can I say? I’m a greedy bitch and love the way that sounds on his lips. I love seeing their names across the top of my text messages.
I toss the t-shirt on the bed and slide my hands up his chest. I’m amazed he doesn’t have to duck to fit on the plane, but I’d be willing to bet he bought this plane because it fits his tall frame.
“And what’s the idea?”
“I thought we might go to Paris. For our date. I’m friends with the head of security of the Luxembourg Garden.”
He says it all as if it’s no big deal. Just whisking his girl off to the City of Light for a romantic weekend away. And I know it will be romantic with him. And the gardens!
Of course, he’d do something thoughtful like that. Because this is Alex. Mr. Details.
“That sounds amazing. Let’s do it.”
He gives a brief nod. “Let me go talk to the pilot.”
He heads back the way we came, and I dive for my phone.
Katherine: omg. He’s taking me to Paris.
Shon’s reply is almost immediate like she was sitting around waiting for my text.
LaShonda: Of course he is. Man is addicted to you.
LaShonda: Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
I suck in a deep breath, wildly excited for this adventure with him. It feels like a fabulous dream. I don’t want to wake up.
His returning footfalls are soft on the carpet, and I turn just as his arms slide around my waist.
I shiver as I stretch up for his kiss. I’ve been needing this all day. His strong body, those firm lips, this drip drip drip of desire through my veins.
In the background, I hear the crew close the door. Low voices. Reluctantly, I drop down onto my heels and smile up at the man who’s come to mean so much in such a short time. His dreamy brown eyes are hazy with lust, and I love the fact that a single kiss affects him so deeply.
Getting lost together is quickly becoming my favorite pastime.
He inhales deeply and then drops a hand from my back to scramble for the panel on the wall. Double doors slide closed, ensconcing us in the bedroom.
My heart trips.
We’re finally alone.
Alone with plenty of time to ourselves.
He turns us, taking two steps back, and then settles into the chair. I step between his knees, hands on his shoulders. Giddiness flows through me like an endless river.
He lifts his lips for a kiss, and his hands skim down over my ass before sliding upward again, this time beneath my sweater. My body comes alive at his touch. So sensitive, so eager.
I lift my head and smile down at him. “Thanks for an amazing day.”
“My pleasure.”
I give a happy little hum. “I think the pleasure’s about to be mine as well.”
His lips hitch up in one of those rare half-smiles that makes my heart trip. There’s not much reason for smiling in his business, dealing with danger and constantly looking for safe exit strategies. I can see how that’d get transactional, especially from the top. Running the company rather than dealing with a single client.
“Definitely,” he rumbles.
His thumbs glide over my ribs, higher and higher, until they settle beneath my breasts. My breath stalls as I wait for him to touch me. To tease my aching nipples.
Who am I kidding? I’m aching all over. Not the painful kind, but with the sort of anticipation that clouds judgment and leads to bliss.
Threading my fingers through his hair, I lower my lips to his. The plane starts to move, and I stumble. He catches me against him and, in a lightning-fast move, settles me across his thighs, arms banded tight around my waist.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be your seat belt.”
I melt at the corny line and rain kisses across his cheek. “I’m never worried when I’m with you.”
A full-body shudder quakes through him.
Cupping his cheek, I turn his face to mine. “You okay?”
He gives a jerky nod.
I kiss the corner of his mouth. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”
There’s a long pause. Another inhale. Then he leans his forehead against mine.
I soak in the feel of him, committing it all to memory. The tight hold, the way his inky lashes seem to rest against his cheeks.
“That means a lot,” he says, voice laced with gratitude.
That he can tell me anything?
I smile. “You’ve already seen me on some of my worst days.”
Which, in the scheme of things, haven’t been all that bad. But he doesn’t point that out. He doesn’t make me feel silly or melodramatic. He just nods a slight nod that lets me know he hears me.
He understands.
“Since my sister was killed, it feels like all I’ve done is worry.”