He lowered into the seat beside Charlee and laced his fingers with hers. “The rest of the security team is returning commercial?”
“Yes. They followed Mr. Oxford to ensure he wouldn’t obstruct our takeoff. Your L.A. team will be waiting for us when we land.”
He let his head fall back against the seat. “Thanks, Tony.”
The lights dimmed and the engines whirred. The leather seat cradled her backside, and the gorgeous man beside her hummed a mellow tune.
What an indulgent way to travel. If she stayed with Jay, could she jet set all over the world with him? What if he and his band lost their lifestyle because of her? Her smile slumped, as did her shoulders.
Damn. Thinking about what-ifs was such a buzz kill. Instead, she concentrated on the hand in hers, the hypnotizing cadence of his soft humming voice, and tried to suspend the moment forever.
Chapter Forty-Four
‡
During the long minutes of taxiing and takeoff, Jay’s proximity was so heady, it rubbed against Charlee’s erogenous zones. He stared at her in silence, his thumb circling the top of her hand. The simmering energy between them multiplied with her heartbeats. The recycled air blowing from the ceiling did little to cool the heat searing from her skin. He appeared just as flushed. In fact, he looked like he was about to crawl out of his clothes.
Once the plane was airborne and the captain turned off the seat belt sign, he released her hand. “I need to talk to Tony for a few minutes, okay?”
“Yep,” she breathed.
Leaning into her, he cupped her jaw and raised her mouth to his. The first touch sent a thrill vibrating through her body. As he deepened the kiss, wildfire spread from his lips, his breath moist and hot, and his tongue coaxing a flame of sensations. He pulled back, drank her in with his eyes, and dipped his head again, kissing every inch of her lips, her cheeks, her eyebrows, and returning to her mouth.
Their tongues, teasing and receiving, stroked warm exhales and muffled moans. She gripped the armrests, gasped for air, and squeezed her thighs together to mollify the ache between them.
One of his hands retreated from her face, sliding down her neck, over her collarbone, lingering along the outside of her breast, and lowered to clutch her waist and pull her closer. The seat belt halted her movement. He released her mouth to glare at the offending obstacle.
Fingers aching in their locked position, she uncurled them and freed the belt. “I want to touch you.”
As she leaned toward him, she glimpsed the guys through the crack between their seats. Rio slumped in the last seat in the rear, head bent on his shoulder, mouth open and eyes closed. On the couch, Laz strummed a guitar in his lap, the sound piping to his large headphones. Beside him, Wil’s face pinched in concentration as he restrung his bass.
Jay removed his hand from her waist, redirecting her attention. He clenched his jaw and gripped the bulge in his leathers. Then he fell toward her and buried his moan in her neck. “Let’s go to the lavatory.”
The charged pulse between her legs dulled. What would Nathan think of her if she snuck off to the bathroom with Jay? Her lungs deflated. She couldn’t risk his judgement without first venting her guilt. “Thought you needed to talk to Tony.”
He put his hands on his knees and frowned at his erection. “Um…Not with this.” The leather pants seemed to magnify his arousal.
“I could shoot it with a rubber band.”
He barked out a strained laugh. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“It’s worked for me in the past.”
His smile crashed into a frown. “What do you mean by that exactly?”
“It’s not what you think. I was just a kid.”
“Jesus.” He stared at her, the whites of his eyes glowing in the dampened light. “That’s even worse.”
“No, this is good story. Want to hear it?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed a hand over his thigh, distractingly close to his erection. “Do I?”
“Yeah.” She curled up in the seat with her legs beneath her and twisted to face him. “When I was little, Craig used to leave me at the neighbor’s house all the time. Nice lady, but she had five boys. Bigger and older, the bastards liked to gang up on me.”
His hand clenched on his leg. “Where was your mother?”
“I didn’t have a mother. Just listen.” She leaned back in the chair. “They cornered me in the basement, the backyard, the bathroom, anywhere Linda wasn’t, and tried to bully me into taking off my pants. You know, the I’ll let you touch mine if you let me touch yours thing?”
“No.” He ground his teeth. “I don’t know.” His hand flexed and his eyes clouded, so she hurried to the good part.
“I was finding it difficult to fight them off. I could’ve tattled on them, but their retaliation would’ve made things worse. Instead, I made a deal with them.”
“Please tell me this deal did not involve the removal of your pants. How old were you?”
She tapped her lip. “Ten…yeah, I was ten. And the deal was, whoever’s dick I could hit with a rubber band from fifteen paces away would never be able to bother me again.”
He groaned.
“They agreed to one attempt each.”
“Fucking hell, Charlee. And if you missed?”
She grimaced. “He would have unrestricted access below my waistband.”
His hand flew to his hair, tangling and yanking with his fingers. “That was a hell of a risk.” His voice rose. “You were only ten, for fuck’s sake.”
“Calm down. What they didn’t know was I had spent the entire summer collecting rubber bands and shooting them at the bagworms that covered the big spruce behind our apartment building.” She grinned. “I tagged a lot of bagworms.”
His hand dropped to his lap and his lips twitched. “You hustled them.”
Just thinking about it made her smile. “They lined up along the basement wall with their briefs around their ankles.” She let out a happy sigh. “Nothing like watching five hard little pricks shrivel with the delightful sound of snapping rubber.”
He shook his head. “That’s fucked up.”
“I don’t know. I earned their respect, and they never messed with me again.” She laughed. “It’s one of my fondest memories.” She glanced at his lap. “How’s the hard little prick?”
“Not little, but definitely shriveled. Thankfully, without a snapping sound.” His mouth descended toward hers.
She angled away, smiling. “Sure you want to do that again?” She pointed at his lap.
“Argh. I’ll be back in a minute.” He stole a quick kiss and jumped from the seat.
She leaned into the aisle to watch his ass flex through his strides. The confident way he carried himself, especially in his tight pants, made her cheeks heat and her body tingle. Good lord, she would have to cool off before she attempted a conversation with Nathan.
Too late. Nathan gave his seat to Jay and headed her way. She took a few calming breaths, looked up and smiled. “Hey.”
He held out his hand. “Give me the gun.”
She flinched. “Why?”
“Because it makes you too brave, too dangerous, and even more of a pain in the ass than you already are.” His hand waited.
Bastard. She yanked her bag from the floor, pulled out the gun, and dropped it on his palm, meeting his glare with one of her own.
Checking the safety, he tucked it in his waistband, dropped into the chair beside her, and rubbed at a scratch on the metal arm rest. Silent seconds ticked by. She told herself she was just letting her arousal dissipate, but he was strangely reserved.
They never had trouble talking to one another, but she’d stirred up a lot of shit in one day, in addition to whatever was going on between her and Jay. Her relationship with Nathan was navigating new territory.
The awkwardness between them ballooned into a heavy pressure in her lungs. Reaching for his chin, she gently turned his face toward her. “I’m not sure when this s
tarted, this guilt I’m carrying. I need to know—”
“It’s good, Charlee.”
She lowered her hand. “What’s good?”
“You’re moving on.” He turned sideways in the chair to face her and rested his head against the seatback. “I know you’re still grieving over how you think you handled things with Noah, and I wish you’d stop.”
A violent mess of emotions clogged her throat.
“I’ve looked at things from Noah’s perspective a million times in the past three years. He knew something was up. Hell, I knew, even before I took that PI case. He was ignoring all your signals and forcing a connection that wasn’t there. Can’t say I blame him, though.” His eyes flicked to the front of the cabin and back to her. “You’re easy to love, Charlee.”
She stopped breathing and the air chilled the perspiration on her face. “What are you saying?”
Sitting up, he met her with an unwavering stare. “Not what you think I’m saying. I love you, but not like that. You’re my best friend, my sister, and the only family I have.”
The mounting tension seeped from her body and she breathed deeply through her nose. She reached for his fingers and traced his knuckles. “You’re those things to me, too, but I don’t understand why you don’t hate me.”
He stared at their hands. “How the hell could I hate you? You gave my brother what you were capable of giving him. He didn’t die brokenhearted. He died happy.”
She looked away with burning eyes. “He died because of me.” Her whisper ended on a croak.
“Bullshit. You didn’t kill him. Salvador did that.”
Grief pummeled her insides, but she kept it bottled, held her expression empty. She would not break down.
He cupped her cheek. “Jesus, I know your face so well. Let it go. Don’t you see? You’ve given me things, too. Without you, I’d be consumed by revenge.” He dropped his hand and looked out the window at the passing clouds. “All those times you suggested we go our separate ways, I considered it. Believe me, I did. I want revenge, and I can accomplish it easier on my own.” His eyes locked on hers. “Protecting you gives me a second chance, a kind of absolution. I didn’t save him, but I can still save you. Call it a self-righteous pursuit to build my hero complex.”
“Oh, please. You’re the epitome of a pure heart. And I’ll tell you the same thing you tell me. You aren’t to blame for his death.”
His lips quirked, but sadness weighted his eyelids. “No. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have left my damn guns in the car that night. Wish I could beat his ass for that.”
Pressure swelled in her sinuses and faded just as quick. It was getting easier to let him go.
“I want you to be happy. And if a guitar jockey in slut pants does it for you, who am I to judge?”
She cocked her head. Yeah, the pants definitely did something for her.
“Noah’s happiest moments are kept here.” He tapped her temple. “And I get to relive some of them when they shine through in your smile. I’d like to see that smile more often.”
She tried to give him one, her lips quivering with the effort, and failed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“All I ask is that you don’t close off my part of your life, okay?”
“Never.” She tackled him in a hug, and his arms enveloped her.
He laughed and pulled back to look at her. “You really like the rock star, huh?”
She reclined against the window. “Yeah.” Her smile appeared suddenly and without effort. “You really like the bodyguard, huh?”
A shrug. “She’s a Marine. What’s not to like?”
“Whatever. We both know there’s more to it.”
“Maybe.” His whiskered cheeks crawled to a grin. “We good?”
For the next few hours, they were outside of Roy’s reach, shooting through the air at—What did Jay say?—Mach .80. And she had a date with a beautiful man in a bathroom.
She gave Nathan another effortless smile.
Chapter Forty-Five
‡
“We’re all set then?” Jay nodded at the e-mail on Tony’s laptop, tapping his fingers on his knees, the heels of his sneakers bouncing with his excitement.
“Yes. The machines will be ready in a week, but the customized engravings and the rush job quadrupled the price. Do you want to look over the bill?”
“I don’t care how much they cost. Just make sure she gets them as soon as possible.”
The tattoo irons served him as much as they served Charlee. There was such a thing as wanting something and someone beyond the edge of sanity. He wanted his tattoo completed, but not nearly as much as he wanted the artist. It was an all-consuming desire, unlike any he’d experienced. It lived in his blood and fed on his heart.
“You’re in my seat.”
He looked up to find Nathan glaring down at him. “Everything okay with Charlee?”
“She’s good.” Nathan bent over him, his voice lowering with palpable hostility. “If that changes and I find you’re the reason, I will hollow out your dick with a butter knife.”
Nathan’s protectiveness surpassed Jay’s instinct to defend himself. He made a hell of a trustworthy bodyguard.
“Tell you what.” Jay hardened his tone, punctuated each word with conviction. “If I hurt her, in any way, I’ll cut it off myself and give it to you.”
Nathan straightened, his eyes smiling. “Excellent.” He jerked his chin toward the rear of the cabin. “If you’re done here, I think she’s waiting for you.”
Jay jumped to his feet and turned.
Charlee leaned her back against the lavatory door, hands behind her, laughing at something Laz was saying. Her red hair curled around her toned arms, bouncing with the shake of her head. A pink flush tinted the curve of her cheeks and glowed against her milky skin. Her smile was as full of life as her bright eyes.
Seeing her there, waiting for him, combined with the feelings he had for her, delivered the ultimate in sexual fantasy. He moved toward her, picking up his pace, driven by the memory of her satin skin beneath his fingers. He wanted to kiss every part of her body. Wanted her hands covering every inch of his. What kind of noises would she make as he lost himself inside her?
“Need a condom?” Rio kicked up his feet on the chair across from him. “Or five?”
Jay growled. Knowing his buddies were squatting feet from the bathroom dampened his arousal. He closed the final few steps and captured her gaze.
She half-turned, eyes firmly fastened to his, and fumbled with the door lever.
“I’ve got it.” He nudged her hand away and opened the door.
“I think the couch folds into a bed.” Laz leaned back in the seat, hands behind his head. “Wouldn’t that be more comfortable?”
Charlee looked at the couch and back to Laz. “The couch would be preferable.” She grinned. “For the boring missionary type.” With a snort, she turned and vanished behind the door of the lavatory.
Jay’s body hummed with anticipation as he followed her in and shut the door on the barrage of whistling and laughing. He turned the lock and tumbled into her amused eyes. “You weren’t hoping for discreet, were you?” He brushed a thumb over her upturned lips.
The space was twice the size of a commercial jet lavatory and included a narrow shower stall at one end. She hopped up on the tall vanity counter and lifted a shoulder. “I haven’t had discreet sex in a long time.”
Her monotone statement wrenched the air from his lungs. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t just screw her like a groupie in a bathroom, much to his erection’s dismay. “Charlee, I’m not going to—” Bang her? Too vulgar. Have sex with her? Too casual. Make love to her? She’d laugh. “—do this with you for the first time in a bathroom.”
Some of the light dimmed in her eyes. “By this, you mean slam me against the wall and fuck me until I can’t walk?”
Alarms screeched in his head. So much of her sexual history was tainted with Roy’s abuse. What he didn’t kno
w was if she’d ever willingly given herself to another man for love. He didn’t think so.
He braced his hands on the counter, caging her hips, and leaned over her, his face inches from hers. “That’s the second time you’ve tried to cheapen us with crude language.” He softened his voice, his eyes searching hers. “Why do you do that?”
A swallow nodded in her throat. “You’re right. It’s a defensive habit.” She stared up at him and her expression opened. “I came in here with one expectation. To touch you. Will you take off your shirt?”
The air thinned and his pulse sped up. He was desperate to be wrapped in her embrace, her body, but what if his reaction scared her? “Charlee—”
“You asked me to trust you. I do. Your turn.”
She had asked him to walk to her, to meld with her. His resolution forged, rushing oxygen throughout his body. His blood scorched through his veins.
He gripped the back of his shirt, pulled it over his head, and dropped it to the floor.
She made a little noise. “Wow. Even sexier than the last time I saw you without a shirt.”
The muscles in his chest twitched and his heart lifted.
“Turn around.”
He moved in a tight circle and flattened his hand on the wall beside him. “I’ve never shown it to anyone, but I…look at it.” More often than he was willing to admit.
“It’s exactly as I remember.” Her soft breaths marked the passing seconds. “Your lyrics about the flames, the steel, and the things we talked about that night…they carried me through some lonely weeks in San Francisco.”
His gut twisted. He focused on the filigree designs printed on the wallpaper, and tried not to picture her naked and shackled to Roy Oxford.
“It was as if you were singing directly to me.”
“I was singing to you,” he rasped through the dry husk of his mouth. “Your needle tapped my heart’s blood that night. Every song I’ve written since then has been about you. For you.” Even when he thought she was dead.
Her silence made him realize how creepy his confession sounded. He glanced desperately over his shoulder. Her eyes flicked up, wide and wet with unshed tears.
Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire Page 132
