25. NICO
25
NICO
K ate’s standing next to me on the tarmac, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to touch her… stroke her… grab her and never let go. Fuck . I am in way too deep here, but I’m enjoying the water.
A warm breeze lifts a tendril of stray hair off the fine curve of Kate’s neck, and I want to kiss the skin right there, but instead, I thread my fingers through hers and squeeze. She smiles but doesn’t turn my way. She’s too busy staring at the private jet and, if I’m not mistaken, trying to look unimpressed.
“Paris,” she breathes. “I can’t believe we’re going to Paris.”
“Yup. One night. Whirlwind tour.” I put my arm around her to guide her to the jet.
This time, she smiles up at me. God, what I wouldn't do to see that smile every day … It’s a damn sight better than having her scowling at me, although I didn’t mind that much either. Any contact with Kate is a precious gift. I can’t explain it. Normally, my tolerance for other people’s bullshit is low, but Kate skirts all my previous boundaries and rules. She’s a beautiful exception.
The noise of the engines rumbles as I lead her up the stairs. Her hair blows about her face, her summer skirt flapping around her knees. She uses her free hand to stop it flying up. The effect is quaint and has me wanting to scoop her up in my arms and into the jet like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold.
Kate takes a few steps inside, then halts, her gaze shifting over the interior. Wide leather seats, a corner sofa area and dining table. Gleaming wood finish. She rubs the toe of her shoe against the carpet and stares down at the plush red pile.
“Holy shit,” she mutters.
I repress the urge to laugh at how her attempt to remain unimpressed has completely disintegrated.
“Never been in one of these?”
She shakes her head, running her fingers along the armrest of one of the chairs.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Hawkston,” says a smartly dressed air stewardess. “Can I get you a glass of champagne for take-off?”
Kate throws an excited glance my way. “Oh, yes—”
“No.”
Kate’s eyes peel wide and the stewardess’s gaze flicks between us, unsure who to listen to.
I slide my arm around Kate and pull her close to whisper into her ear. “It’s a short flight. Let’s not waste time.” I nod my head in the direction of the bedroom at the back. The door is ajar and Kate follows my gaze, her eyebrows rising when she catches sight of the huge, perfectly made bed.
“But—”
“I want to be sober when I fuck you,” I whisper.
Kate’s eyes widen. “ When ?”
I grin at her echo of our earlier conversation. “When,” I confirm.
Kate drags her gaze to the stewardess. “No champagne.”
The stewardess gives a little smile. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thank you. Don’t disturb us until landing,” I say.
I grab Kate’s hand and lead her towards two large leather seats by the window where we sit down and buckle in. I’m dizzy with excitement at the prospect of having her all to myself, but she’s distracted, glancing back to the open bedroom door, a quizzical look on her face.
“What?” I ask.
She brings her focus back to me. “You wouldn’t fuck me in the back of the car, but you will fuck me in a private jet?”
“The fact that you’re even asking that question shows we haven’t spent nearly enough time together.”
She laughs, but when she notices I’m not laughing, she falls silent. A cute little crease forms between her eyebrows. “Shit. We’re really doing this.”
“Only if you want to.”
She says nothing, and for a moment I wonder if she’s going to change her mind.
The jet engines roar to life and we begin the taxi for take-off.
“What’s wrong?” I cant my head towards the window. The plane is gathering speed. “If you’re having doubts, you’re a bit late.”
Her face scrunches. “Is this weird?”
“What?”
“This.” She waves a hand between us. “Me and you. Together.”
“We’re about to take-off at two hundred miles an hour and you’re worried about whether us being here is weird?”
“I’m serious, Nico. I don’t know what’s happening.”
She drops her hands, wringing them over one another. I place my hand over her clasped ones, and beneath my touch her fingers relax.
I lean across to kiss her, but her lips are tense. Resistant. She wants an answer more than a kiss, but I don’t know what the fuck to say. I still don’t know what this is, but I know I want to be here, with her, with every particle of my being.
My tongue gently probes her lips until she parts them and lets me in. This kiss is soft, gentle, and conveys more than any words I might give her. I hope she understands.
We break apart, and she stares out the window as we race down the runway, the cabin shaking around us as the nose tips upward and the wheels lift off.
Kate’s fingers are laced in mine as we rise through the clouds. “Is it weird for you?” she asks again. “Tell me the truth.”
I chuckle. Always after the truth . “A bit. But not really. I knew we’d end up here after I saw you that night on the balcony at Jack’s party.”
At the mention of her brother’s name, she flinches. At some point, if this is a serious thing, and it sure feels like it is, we’ll have to tell him. I’m kicking that into the long grass for now, though.
“How did you know back then?” Her nose wrinkles as she leans towards me. “That wasn’t a positive interaction. I didn’t leave that night feeling good. About you, or anything.”
“I’m good at reading people.”
“And you read me?”
I smirk. “You’re very easy to read. You want to fuck me as much as I want to fuck you.”
Her mouth falls into a mockery of a shocked O, her eyes darting across my face, before her puckered lips transform into a smile.
“You’re the most arrogant man—”
“You want to join the mile high club?”
“Yes, please.”