Chapter 20 DAN
DAN
Iloosen my tie as I sit in economy next to a mother and a baby who’s already started screaming and we haven’t even taken off yet. It’s gonna be a long fucking flight.
“I’m sorry, sir.” The woman bounces the kid on her knee. “She’s teething.”
“Don’t worry bout it.” I dab the moisture on my forehead and lean back in the seat, focusing on my breathing and not the hundred million things buzzing around my head.
I have a son.
A fucking quick-witted, smart-ass, amazing son. A smile curves my lips as I think about him and I pull my phone from my pocket and text Dom.
Can you get me tickets to City’s game on Monday? I think they’re playing a friendly.
You know Dad would turn in his grave, right?
My shoulders shake with a silent laugh.
I know, but the kid likes what the kid likes.
And you, as his father, need to educate him.
All in good time, brother. We need to get him on side first.
So how many tickets you want?
Me, the kid and Rose. Get yourself one if you want to come.
I’ll see what I can do.
I send off another text to Magnus
Flying back to Rome. Still no leads.
My patience is wearing thin, Bianchi. I was told you were the best in the business, but I’m thinking I could do a better job myself.
Be my guest, but your wife clearly doesn’t want to be found. Could she have moved to the States?
You should know. That’s what I’m paying you for.
The next text is to my cousin Matteo.
I’ll meet you at the airport this afternoon.
I slide my phone into my jacket pocket and grip the armrest as the plane approaches the runway. The baby’s screams turn into shouts from my comrades as the helicopter comes crashing down…
The screech of rotors dying. Metal tearing apart.
Blood in my mouth.
Voices screaming for help before the smoke swallowed them whole.
I blink, the plane tilting, and for a second I'm back on the helicopter—trapped. Alone.
“Sir?” a flight attendant says.
I glance around at everyone’s eyes on me and when I look out the window, there are clouds. “What happened?” My heart races and a sheen of sweat coats my cold skin.
“You had some sort of seizure. Do you have a medical condition, sir?” She hands me a bottle of water.
“No. I’m fine, just a bad case of PTSD.” I guzzle the water down, drinking half the bottle in one go.
“Can I get you anything else, sir?”
“Grace. I need Grace.”
“She’s in business class, sir.”
“I need her, damn it.” I reign my voice in, not meaning to sound like an arse. “Just tell her to get out here.”
“Yes, sir.” She shimmies down the aisle to the front of the plane where business class is and disappears behind the curtain.
I lost brothers up there. I lost pieces of myself. And I’ll be damned if I lose Rose too. Not again. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths as I try to calm myself down. My fingers feel for the gum in my pocket and I pull a piece out and pop it in my mouth.
The baby cries next to me as the woman tries to comfort her. “My husband has PTSD. Can’t be in confined spaces. I’m wishing I’d let this one stay at home with him.”
“You going on holiday?”
“Just visiting my sister. She’d have killed me if I left her niece at home.”
Her daughter reaches out for me.
“May I?” I lift my hands to the small child.
“Be my guest,” the woman says, dropping her daughter into my lap.
She stops crying and plays with the end of my tie.
“She likes you.”
A smile stretches across my face. “There, there. Everything’s better now we’re in the clouds, right.”
She dribbles onto my tie, but her jabbering is oddly soothing, distracting me from the clouds outside and the turbulence in my head.
“Sir, Grace cannot come right now,” Lisa, the flight attendant says.
She put me in economy on purpose. “Tell her if she doesn’t get her arse in here, there’ll be consequences.”
The strawberry flavour on my tongue reminds me of my strawberry ice cream girl. She’s the only one who calms me, although the baby on my knee seems to have been a good enough distraction. But it’s also a reminder of all the things I’ve missed with my son.
Rose has the ability to calm and infuriate me at the same time, but right now I just need to see her.
I need to know she hasn’t abandoned me like she did before.
She’s the only thing that silences the ghosts on a flight and since I found her again, she’s the only person who’s made me feel alive after the darkness.
A few minutes later, the flight attendant returns with a napkin. “She sent this, sir.”
I open the napkin to the words “go fuck yourself” written in red lipstick.
A snarl forms on my face. I hand the baby back to the woman next to me. “Excuse me.” Standing, I clench my fists at my side and walk through the curtain into business class. Busy my arse. There’s about five passengers here. It’s now clear she booked me in economy on purpose.
“Sir, you can’t be up here,” Lisa says.
“This won’t take long.” I step into an empty seat, allowing her to push the drinks trolly down the aisle.
Rose’s face pales at the front of the plane in the crew area.
I storm down the aisle, my blood pumping, feeling the anger in my veins.
Her body stiffens as I guide her by the elbow into the small restroom.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I slam the napkin against the mirror, my chest rising and falling against her back with heavy panting breaths.
We stare at each other in the mirror, her own chest rising and pushing against the buttons on her shirt.
“I will fuck myself. The next time I’m watching you in bed alone, your hand slipping between your thighs. I’ll fuck myself knowing you’re thinking of me.”
Her mouth parts, eyes wide.
“Were you thinking of me the other night while you stroked your pussy?”
“You’re crazy.”
“You’re the reason I’m like this. You drive me fucking insane.
” My arm wraps around her, my hand sliding to her neck so I can feel her pulse beneath my fingers.
My dick hardens thinking of her touching herself.
Her pulse flutters against my fingers, mirroring mine as all the blood in my head rushes to my groin.
I hook a finger under her silk neck scarf, sliding it down so I can kiss her there.
“Rose, I needed you.” I pepper kisses all over her neck and she tilts her head, giving me better access.
“I needed you and you wouldn’t come.” My head clouds with emotion.
She thinks I mean now, but I mean thirteen years ago.
I needed her when I was lying in a hospital bed with nothing but the ghosts of my brothers-in-arms for company.
“I’m sorry,” she breathes out on a whimper, her round ass pressing against my dick as if taunting me.
My other hand reaches down her skirt until I feel the hem.
“You’ll come now.” I meet her eyes in the mirror as my fingers climb up the sheer fabric on her thigh highs.
“Are you wearing your stockings again?” My fingers reach the lace and I groan in approval.
My gaze doesn’t leave hers in the mirror, searching for a sign that she doesn’t want this, but her body hums and vibrates, telling me she wants this as much as I do, only she’s too stubborn to admit it.
Her hand covers mine, an inch from her pussy. She whimpers, “D’Angelo.”
“Rosetta,” I whisper against her skin. “I’ve got you, fiore mio.” I lick her neck, the sweet taste of her skin mixed with a creamy body butter.
“I…” Heat blooms in her cheeks. Her flawless makeup hides most of it, but her skin’s hot against my lips. “I haven’t waxed.”
I freeze for half a second. That quiet, insecure whisper makes my heart stutter just like her vulnerability did the first time I touched her.
She’s comfortable with me enough to let me see her raw and unsure.
And fuck, I want her to know that it’s her I want.
Waxed or not, doesn’t make any difference to me.
It’s just her. It’s always been her. But the way her breath trembles with embarrassment takes me right back to the boating lake.
“Your beauty regime is the last thing on my mind right now.” I lick and lightly suck against her neck, grinding my dick into her soft cheeks, showing her how much of an effect she has on me.
Her grip on my hand loosens, and I slide my hand higher. Her legs widen, allowing my hand between her touching thighs.
My fingers stroke the gusset over a wet spot and I groan, my dick straining against my zipper. “My little flower’s soaked.”
I hook a finger inside the lace of her knickers, run my finger along her seam, and watch her reflection fall apart.
Her head rests back against my shoulder, her eyelids flickering as she looks up at the spotlight on the ceiling. “I hate you,” she pants out with a moan, her legs trembling around my hand.
I plunge two fingers into her dripping cunt.
“I fucking hate you, too.” I slide my fingers out and circle her swollen clit, loving how she shudders against me.
“Hate you so fucking much.” With my other hand I yank her scarf down and suck her neck, her arousal getting me high and making me delirious as my cock grinds against her ass.
I could come from the sheer feel of her cunt, but I won’t.
This is about making sure she knows who owns her orgasm.
“Eyes on me, Rose.” We stare at each other in the mirror, my hand disappearing between her legs.
I open the buttons on her shirt, revealing her white cotton bra.
So demure, like the one she wore on our first time, only her breasts are much bigger now.
I caress one, then the other. “You’re so beautiful. ”
Her eyelids flicker as I strum her clit at a leisurely pace.
“Take your tits out for me. Let me look at you.”
Her hand reaches my face, pulling my lips back to her neck. “Just fuck me and get it over with.”
My lips quirk into a grin. “You want my cock, you have to earn it. Now show me your tits.”
“I thought you’d have grown out of the schoolboy fascination with boobs by now.” She reluctantly pulls the cups of her bra down and my dick twitches in my boxers.