I was a woman of deep intellectual…
Yeah, fuck. I wasn’t even going to convince myself.
Planes were definitely not the fastest way for us to get there, but I knew that some supes—especially vampires and shifters—preferred this method of travel. Step-throughs were unknown and scary to those who didn’t control magic in that way.
“The flight is just over an hour,” Princeps Jones said as he settled into one of the front leather pilot chairs, leaving the ones further back for Asher and me. As I was putting my bag into an overhead locker, I felt Asher’s heat right along my spine. He pushed closer, and the energy bounced between us, his scent filling my senses, sending pain to my heart and heat to my lady parts.
Fuck. My body didn’t know if it was coming or going with Asher.
Definitely not coming.
Thanks for the reminder.
“Do you mind?” I said bluntly when he pressed closer, reaching over my head to put his bag in the same compartment as mine. “I’m sure there’s somewhere else you can store your shit.”
I turned my head enough to see his dazzling smile, the scruff of facial hair he wore so well, and motherfucking dimples. “Safer if we store them together,” he said, sounding cheerful. “That way they won’t move around in the flight and get damaged.”
He was screwing with me, I knew it. I just couldn’t figure out why. What was his end game?
I spun on the spot, all breath fleeing my lungs, and I swallowed roughly, hoping desperately to find moisture in my mouth. Asher was right behind me, both of his arms braced above on the overhead locker, all but caging me in against the side of the chair.
“You look beautiful today,” he said softly.
Fucked. I was totally and completely fucked.
“Thank you,” I said, trying to keep the huskiness from my voice. “Could you … uh … maybe move. I need to take my seat.”
His eyes were locked on mine, green storms slashed with gold, and I wondered if I could actually survive not seeing those beautiful irises for the rest of my life. I’d been so strong and independent when he wasn’t around, but having him here now, all I could think about was touching him. Losing myself in him.
He doesn’t want you!It was a harsh but needed reminder.
Before I embarrassed myself, Asher lowered his arms and stepped back, taking the seat across the aisle. Red faced—I could feel the heat in my cheeks—I stumbled to one of the double chairs behind him, trying desperately to breathe normally.
At least he was in front of me and I would only have to stare at the back of his head for an hour.
Just before the pilot announced that it was time for takeoff, Asher popped up out of his seat and moved with a few graceful strides around to sit … right the fuck next to me.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, wanting to move, but the plane had started to move and I knew it was only a short taxi to the runway.
“Nervous flyer,” Asher said, still smiling. All his happiness was weirding me out, because I’d grown used to snarly, surly Asher over the past few weeks.
I’d never actually flown with Asher to know if he was a nervous flyer, but I had a strong suspicion it was another lie.
The announcement was fast, and then with a jolt the plane was zooming along the runway. Asher reached out and grabbed my hand, and when I jerked in surprise, turning to him, I almost laughed at the drawn expression on his face.
“You can fly without a plane,” I reminded him. I kept telling myself to let his hand go, but for some reason I couldn’t make myself. “I literally saw you flying around with your …mother.”
He shot me a dark look. “Firstly, she gave me additional powers when I was around her. I don’t have them now. And secondly … this is a leftover fear from when I was a kid. My parents’ plane crashed with me on it when I was really young. It was during takeoff. Luckily, they managed to get a shielding spell up that stopped the worst of it, but I’ll never forget the fear. I’ve hated takeoff ever since.”
Holy crap.Asher actually was afraid. I wiggled my hand and he reluctantly let me go. I turned it over and he shot me a surprised look when I linked our fingers together. “You can close your eyes,” I told him softly. “I’ll let you know when it’s over.”
Our eyes locked again; my heart was trying to launch itself from my chest. Probably to get to Asher. Because I wanted to get to Asher so badly it hurt. I also wanted to run so fast from him that I’d be moving faster than the plane.
For now, though, I held his hand, and he never took his eyes from me. Not even when I looked away, unable to handle the intensity of our emotions. Not even when the plane leveled out and we cruised for twenty minutes before basically starting our descent again.
Finally, when I couldn’t take it any longer—my anger getting the best of me—I snarled, “What? Why do you keep looking at me?”
I yanked my hand back, fighting the urge to shiver at the loss of heat from his skin.
