His intense gaze becomes a challenge. “Don’t, you little shit. I can hear your thoughts.”
“Can you?” I bite my lip and envision him blowing his load down my throat—head thrown back, mouth open, neck strained, veins popping, his fingers gripping my hair, that rumbling moan… So fucking delicious.
His Adam’s apple bobs and his chest heaves.
He attempts to dismiss me by turning toward the window. “Return to your seat, O’Reilly.”
Following his lead, I stare into the aisleway. “No thanks. I’m good.” Then, I get one of my brilliant ideas. “Unless youwantme to go play with Grant.”
I’m reminded of all those times he taunted me with Aurora. Now, I get to taunthim—withme.
He whips his head around, his eyes dark. “You wouldn’t. Don’t forget you’re married.”
He’s right—I wouldn’t. Plus, Grant is obsessed with Sloane. Still…
I shrug, feigning indifference. “I doubt she’ll mind. She lets me play with you.”
His nostrils flare. “Try it and see what happens. Don’t fuck with me, Jax. I’ve had enough of your shitty attitude today.”
The sweet taste of revenge turns bitter, and my mood sours. I lean in until I feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the sandalwood and amber shampoo I bought him. “Why not? I’m only yours until it makes you uncomfortable, so what does it matter?”
Let him try to hide us. He thought Aurora provoked him? She has limits; I don’t. I can handle his brutality, and I’ll do whatever it takes to drive him over the edge. Maybe I’m being petty, but I gave him secrecy around the team. Any more than that is hurtful. He wants me tobe politeandpretendjust to appease a bunch of homophobic assholes? Fuck that.
Ethan’s hand shoots out, fisting my throat. His fingertips dig into my jaw and neck with bruising strength and pull me closer. We’re chest to chest, his voice a growl in my ear. “If you’ve got a problem, use your fucking words, brat.”
“Nah. I’d much rather piss you off.”
“You itching for a fight, baby boy? Is that it? You’re mine whether I tell anyone or not.” He pushes me away with a final, hard squeeze. “Make no mistake.”
Our eyes lock in a furious glare, neither one of us backing down.
He cocks his head. “Were you injured today on the ice?”
Confused, I curl my lip. “No. Why?”
He sinks into the leather seat and removes his phone from his pocket, dismissing me—again. “Means I don’t have to take it easy on you once we get to the hotel room,” his tone deepens, “and I correct thatfuckingattitude of yours.”
“You’re a dick,” I mutter.
“And you’re a pain in my ass.”
It’s been a while since I riled Ethan up—reallyriled him up—and after fifteen minutes, I regret it.
He must’ve forgotten how long this flight is. Even irate, there’s no way he’ll stay mad about that Grant comment for ten hours.
I definitely won’t last.
Unsettled and thirsting for him, I lay my hand on his thigh. Just that slight touch sends a jolt of electricity through me. I want him so fucking bad—and therein lies the problem. Anything less than everything might as well be nothing.
Except that’s not true. I’m waging a war with myself. I’ll take whatever he gives—but I won’t be sated until I’ve crawled under his skin. I’m obsessed.
His muscles tense beneath my palm, and, preoccupied with his phone, he throws me off him. This repeats until, curious, I rest my head on his shoulder and peek at his screen. He’s texting Rocco, but before I can read the messages, he slips the phone into his suit pocket.
“Jax,” he growls in warning. “Why are you being clingy?”
“I want you.” I switch tactics to flirting rather than provoking his jealousy and possessiveness. “It’s a new day. I need my Ethan fix.”
“You’re a head trip. I’m working.” His words are clipped and callous. “We agreed to keep this between us. Youpromisedyou were okay with it.”
