“What was the panic attack about?” he prods, and I realize he knew, after all, that there was more to it than the dirt.
“Nothing,” I mutter.
“Tell me or I’ll punish you,” he warns in a matter-of-fact voice.
I don’t have the energy to go against his iron will. “You don’t want me.”
There’s a long pause, and then he growls, “Sometimes, I’d like to wring your neck.”
I close my eyes, my emotions too heavy to find an outlet. We spend the rest of the trip in silence.
When the car halts, Damien helps me out, or rather, pulls meout, his arm around my waist more like a vise than a support.
I look around me, blinking in surprise. We’re standing on a large flat surface coated in asphalt. Before us are several airplanes, and Damien guides me toward one of the larger ones, painted black, large red letters decorating its side:Devil Airlines.
A set of stairs has been folded down, and he gestures for me to climb up.
“Never been on a plane before?” he guesses, smiling in spite of the tension between us.
“I have,” I mumble.
“Oh?”
“With Noel.” I wince at the memory, and his own face grows dark.
“Let’s go.”
He guides me into a luxurious cabin, its upholstery as black as the plane outside. At the back, just like in the Angel plane, is a bedroom, but he settles me on a couch in the main cabin, snapping a seatbelt shut over my lap before covering my knees with a thick blanket. He sits beside me, his arm still pressed around me. Only now it’s gone back to feeling protective.
Then I feel his other hand sliding up my leg, and in spite of all the contradictory emotions weighing on me, I can’t help but moan and close my eyes when it finds its way between my thighs and presses lightly against my cotton panties.
My wetness grows as he slides his finger back and forth, his mouth crushed against mine. Then his fingers slip inside my panties, and he finds my clit, already swollen with need.
He pinches it, sending a spark of pain through me, and I gasp.
“Now, tell me,” he says, his voice thick with threat and arousal.
“I…”
His fingers pinch harder, and I yelp out, my instinct to wriggle away only making it hurt more as his fingers remain possessivelyclosed around my clit.
“Tell. Me.”
“Hello, Damien. Nice to see you. Can I get you anything?”
I blush at the idea that whoever is speaking might be aware of what Damien is doing to me under the blanket. My eyes flutter open. But my embarrassment is quickly overtaken by shock, and then pain, as I recognize the woman standing before us.
She’s none other than the voluptuous blonde that Noel showed me a picture of.
With the pain comes a sinking feeling. My stomach feels like it’s turned to stone.
So she works as an air hostess on Damien’s plane. Ofcoursehe’s having sex with her. How could he possibly keep his hands off such a beautiful woman? Is this why he brought me up here? To prove that I mean nothing to him? To humiliate me?
It’s shocking how easily I’m able to fall back into these dark thoughts.
Damien’s fingers are still on my clit, but he’s relaxed his hold. I manage a glance at him and see that he’s staring at me in confusion. Coming to his senses, he pulls his finger away from me and mutters, “Two glasses of Champagne, Alice.”
Alice. Logan mentioned someone named Alice. But for the life of me, I can’t remember what he was saying.
