Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
Mason
I watch Harper step out of the town car, her oversized sweatshirt swallowing her petite frame. She looks beautiful, even in her comfy travel clothes. My heart races as she approaches, her eyes widening at the sight of the private jet behind me.
"Wow," she breathes. "This is...a lot."
I can't help but smirk. "Only the best for you, Harper."
She rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile. "You know, normal people just book a commercial flight."
"I'm not normal people," I reply, reaching for her bag. Our fingers brush, and electricity crackles between us.
Harper pulls back quickly, clearing her throat. "I can carry my own bag, thanks."
I let her, knowing when to pick my battles. As we board the jet, I notice her hesitation. "First time flying private?"
She nods, sinking into a plush leather seat. "First time flying, period."
My protective instincts flare. I want to wrap her in my arms, keep her safe. Instead, I settle for buckling her seatbelt, ignoring her protests.
"It'll be fine," I assure her. "I'll be right here."
The engines roar to life, and Harper grips the armrests. I place my hand over hers, surprised when she doesn't pull away.
As we take off, I study her profile. I’m too damn excited to be whisking this girl off to Paris.
A whole week alone with her.
As we reach cruising altitude, Harper's death grip on the armrest loosens. She turns to me, a mix of excitement and lingering nerves in her eyes.
"So, um, what exactly does one do on a private jet?" she asks.
I gesture around the luxurious cabin. "Anything you want. Champagne? Movie? Five-course meal?"
Harper laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. "How about just talking? I still can't believe I'm going to Paris."
We chat easily as the miles slip away beneath us. I find myself captivated by her passion as she describes her art, her eyes lighting up. When she asks about my business, I try to keep things light, not wanting to overwhelm her.
As our conversation flows, I can't help but notice how her body has relaxed, how she's leaned in closer. The air between us feels charged, electric. I clear my throat.
"You know," I say, my voice low, "there is one activity that's particularly popular on private jets."
Harper raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"
I lean in, my lips nearly brushing her ear. "Ever heard of the Mile High Club?"
She pulls back, eyes wide. "Mason!"
"What?" I smirk. "I'm just offering to show you all the amenities."
Harper's cheeks flush a delicious pink. "I, um...I don't think..."
I hold up my hands. "Just a suggestion. No pressure."
She bites her lip, clearly flustered. "Maybe we should stick to champagne."
I laugh, loving the sweet blush I’ve brought to her cheeks. Harper can put up her guard and act all tough, but I see how sweet and innocent she really is, and it has my cock hardening in my pants. "Champagne it is."
As I pour the bubbly, I can't help but wonder if I've pushed too far, too fast. But when Harper's fingers brush mine as she takes the glass, that spark is still there.
Our eyes meet over the rim of her champagne flute. The golden liquid sparkles, but it's nothing compared to the light dancing in Harper's eyes. I gently take the glass from her hand, setting it aside. Time seems to slow as I lean in, giving her every opportunity to pull away.
She doesn't.
My lips brush hers, soft as a whisper. I taste the lingering sweetness of champagne, mixed with something uniquely Harper. She sighs, and I deepen the kiss, one hand coming up to cup her cheek. Her skin is impossibly soft under my fingers.
Harper's lips part, and I take the invitation, my tongue exploring the warm velvet of her mouth. She tastes of dreams and sunlight, of possibility. Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer.
I lose myself in the kiss, in the softness of her lips and the quiet sounds she makes. It's intoxicating, more potent than any champagne. When we finally break apart, we're both breathless.
"Wow," Harper whispers, her cheeks flushed.
I brush my thumb across her lower lip, marveling at how swollen and pink it is from our kiss. "You can say that again."
She laughs softly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Is this...is this okay?"
"More than okay," I assure her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "But we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."
Harper nods, biting her lip in a way that makes me want to kiss her again. "I just...I've never done anything like this before."
My heart swells with a fierce protectiveness. I want to shelter her, to keep her safe from the world. But I also want to show her everything she's been missing.
"We'll take it slow," I promise, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "We have all the time in the world."
As if on cue, the plane hits a pocket of turbulence. Harper gasps, grabbing my arm. I pull her close, wrapping her in my embrace.
"I've got you," I murmur against her hair. "You're safe with me."
She nods against my chest, her breath warm through my shirt. As the turbulence subsides, she doesn't pull away. Instead, she nestles closer, fitting perfectly in the circle of my arms.
I press a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. In this moment, with Harper in my arms and Paris waiting on the horizon, I feel something I haven't felt in years.
Hope .