21. Katherine
21
KATHERINE
Before Alex can answer my question, the plane phone rings. Am I imagining the resignation in his eyes as he reaches for it? I hold my breath so I don’t scream.
My questions hang in the air between us.
Will you ever let yourself be comfortable?
Will you let yourself fall in love?
“Hunt,” he says, gaze dropping to my lips.
Can he read the frustration in me? Does he feel the tension taking over my limbs?
Of course he can. This is Alex.
He cups my cheek, swiping his thumb over my lips. Holds it there, a silent order.
“We’re ready. Thank you.” He puts the phone back in the cradle. “Time to buckle up.”
Oh.
Okay.
That’s an answer, I suppose.
My stomach sinks as he lifts me off his lap as if I weigh no more than a feather. He doesn’t say anything as we buckle up. Or as the plane speeds down the runway and lifts effortlessly into the sky.
His gaze stays locked on mine as we gain altitude. I swallow as my ears adjust. My heart pounds in my chest, desperate for an answer. But I can’t ask again. Uneasiness chokes me because I’m pretty sure I’ve handed over a sizable chunk of my heart to this man, and I’m equally certain that he has a hangup about love.
It’d make sense, right?
Someone who’s suffered the sort of tragic loss he has would hold himself apart, build walls around himself and a moat around his heart.
It finally makes sense. The way he doesn’t date. The way he seems to exist on the periphery of society, attending events but never truly participating.
But there’s hope. Gabe made it across the moat and scaled the walls.
The ache in my heart intensifies and spreads until it fills every corner of my body and soul. This is a man who loves his family and who deserves all the love life has to offer. A partner. Friendship. Passion. Affection and devotion.
Maybe—
The phone rings again, and he answers it. One second becomes two. I’m ready to come out of my skin.
“Thank you.”
Just like before, he puts the phone back in the cradle, staring at me until my nerves are vibrating. Then, the tension snaps as he jerks his seatbelt loose and reaches for me. Undoing my belt, he pulls me back into his lap, lips crashing against mine as if I’m oxygen and he’s drowning.
“Alex—” I mumble against his lips. He shoves his hand in my hair, holding me where he wants me.
Oh my goodness. He’s so big, so in control, and I’m so happy to hand it over to him. When his tongue slides against mine, everything erratic settles inside me. The tension drains away and I grip his suit jacket, holding on for dear life.
He pulls back a fraction, and I blink at him.
“To answer your questions,” he whispers, his deep voice rough but husky. “Yes, yes, and I already have.”
Why are we talking?
Wait.
My kiss-addled brain focuses on his words. He’s answering my questions.
Yes?
Yes, to being comfortable. Yes, to being happy.
“You already have?”
Does that mean?—
“You’re impossible to resist.”
“What?” My voice is sharp with confusion.
His lips twitch, and my heart soars.
“You can’t be surprised, Beauty. Your laugh bewitched me years ago.”
“Yeah, but—” I have no other words as my brain tries to process everything he’s said. I need full sentences. Nouns, verbs, maybe an adjective.
He trails his hand down the column of my throat, and then a fingertip traces over my collarbone.
“But?” His gaze meets mine.
“I don’t understand.”
“The only thing you need to understand is that I tried to resist your pull, to remain in your orbit but not succumb to your spell, but it didn’t work like that. I’ve been falling in love with you for what feels like forever.”
I gasp as happiness explodes through me. “Same.” I kiss him. “Same. Forever.”
His fingers tangle in my hair, and he pulls my head back. The bite of pain makes my nipples harden and my clit tingle.
“Say it. I need to hear you say it.”
I know exactly what he’s asking for. And his breathlessly gruff tone says he’s having a hard time believing this isn’t a dream.
That uncertainty makes my heart swell and my lips curve. I sit up straighter, tracing a finger over his left eyebrow and down his cheek. “I love you, Alexander Hunt.”
He groans and tugs me forward, slanting his lips across mine in a needy kiss. This is exactly what I’ve been dreaming of. Time alone with him, where we can relax and enjoy each other. Where he stops holding back. Where we ignore the world and our positions within it.
He’s definitely not holding back anymore. His glorious body surges beneath mine, all hard planes and an even harder cock. I move to straddle him, thankful that there’s just enough room in the chair.
The plane swoops, and my stomach does the same. Alex’s arms tighten around me, keeping me tucked firmly against his lap. I’m not going anywhere. This is the only place I want to be right now.
“I need you,” he says before trailing his lips along my jaw.
“Then have me.”
He rocks forward, tilting me back as he stands. I squeak and cling to his shoulders, tightening my thighs around his hips. But there’s no danger of him dropping me. He’s a tank.
“You’re so fucking incredible,” he murmurs, lowering me to the bed.
His broad shoulders blot out the overhead light, and all I see is him. He fills my senses.
“I could say the same thing about you.” He shakes his head ruefully, hands coasting down my body.
His fingers hook over the edge of my leggings and pull them down, jerking my sneakers off with eager hands. He tosses the lot over his shoulder, and they land in the chair we just vacated.
Without hesitation, he reaches for my right ankle. Lifting it, he peppers kisses along the inside of my calf and my stomach flutters at the tenderness in him. Such a big man and so in control of himself. So connected to me and finally getting in touch with his own feelings again.
I reach for him, but he straightens. Rising to his full height, he stares down at me with those warm chocolate eyes and sheds his jacket. My stomach flutters at the impressive display of masculinity. He folds the garment with almost military-like precision and then drapes it over the back of the chair.
Oh, I like this game. Slowing down so we can hopefully speed up again.
His fingers move to his tie, tugging the knot in that classic impatient gesture that makes me purr. Anticipation seeps through me, bittersweet because I don’t want this night to end, cranking up my desire.
I sit up on the bed, swinging my legs around to kneel. I skim my hands down my front, and his eyes follow the movement.
I lift the hem of my sweater, feeling deliciously naughty with every inch I reveal. It doesn’t matter that we’ve been intimate before, that he’s seen me without a stitch of clothing on.
The heat in his eyes and the unsteady movements of his fingers working the tie free is all it takes to make me quiver with need. I love that we hardly need words. He does all the communicating he needs to with a glance, a touch, a lusty groan.
His gaze is like a caress across my belly, over my breasts. And as soon as my sweater joins the pile of discarded clothing, he reaches for me, looping his tie behind my back.