I guess Gabriel didn’t keep his little girlfriend updated with his appalling betrayal. If he had, she would have known I’d be out for blood.
The streetlights give her skin a warm glow contrasted with deep shadows. Her father was right about one thing. She’s a beautiful girl. Those dark ringlets contrasted with her fair skin make her appear doll-like, and that’s before adding in those wide blue eyes, twinkling like the last minute of a sunset reflecting on the water.
It’ll give me a delightful view while I’m fucking her tonight, taking her virginity as roughly as I want before I send the evidence to her father.
To her boyfriend.
Before I send her and her tattered hymen back to them on my private plane.
I think of Ciprian telling me he could have someone verify her virginity. My lips crease into a wicked smile as I pull out my phone to text a doctor, arranging a house call to my apartment in a few hours’ time.
The man’s reliable and in so much debt to my crew that he does anything I need without question. A good thing considering the question tonight will be to certify Crimson’s upcoming status as a non-virgin. The final fuck-you to her dad.
Crimson stirs against me, blowing a ringlet away from her face as she snuffles and ends up sticking a thumb into her mouth. The sight makes something shift inside my chest, pulling so tight it’s painful. I push the feeling away at the same time I adjust her hand, her fingers instinctively latching onto me instead.
The first step is getting her back to my apartment. Having already placed a call to my pilot, it shouldn’t take long before my plane is cleared and ready to fly to Auckland.
As it always does, my heart lifts at the thought of going home. Despite being born and raised here, I don’t understand Christchurch, this maudlin city with its crumbling facades and malls made of shipping containers. Their patterns divert from every other place I’ve worked. Different drugs, different weapons, different kinks. I can’t wait to leave.
Five minutes out from the airport, Crimson wakes. Her face collapses into worry lines as she sits upright, moving away from my encircling arm to stare out the window, chewing on her thumbnail. When she pulls it away from her mouth, I see it’s bitten to the quick.
“Where are we going?” Her eyes dart to my face, then jerk away as she hunches her shoulders.
“My place in Auckland. It’s better outfitted than the hotel room I’m staying in down here.”
The way her lips twist, I expect another question. Another series of them, all the things she has every right to ask. But she holds her counsel instead. It’s a choice I respect.
Soon the vehicle pulls into the drop-off bay for the private terminal, and I offer her my arm as she scrambles from the car, escorting her inside to wait.
The plane is ready within minutes of our arrival, the pilot coming into our private suite before we’ve barely had time to sit down. When we cross the tarmac, Crimson stares all around her, inching closer to my side as though nervous. The way she instinctively leans into me ignites a protective urge in my chest. One that I quickly stifle.
Inside the aircraft, I take the large recliner near the window while she sits next to me, needing my help with the buckle on her seatbelt. As the engines start, she assails her thumbnail again and darts a nervous glance towards the cockpit. “Where are the other passengers?” she whispers.
“It’s just us.” I take her hand, not because I seek the warmth but just so she’ll stop nibbling on it. “Haven’t you been in a private plane before?”
“I haven’t flown before,” she says, her cheeks flushing with colour.
The admission confuses me even as it explains her reaction. Even I had flown by her age and that was as the son of a struggling solo mother whose unreliable father wasn’t great at paying child support. A rich girl should be jetting all over the place. Isn’t being well-travelled one of the advantages of being wealthy?
When the plane taxis over a bump, she yelps, and grabs hold of my upper arm with her free hand. “Private? Does that mean youownthis?” she babbles, sounding like she needs a distraction more than she needs a truthful answer.
“Yes.” I stare at her with some concern as her lips press together and her fingers claw into my flesh hard enough to bruise. “Would you prefer to sit by the window?”
“No!”
“It’s okay. Everything that’s happening is meant to happen.” When she doesn’t appear convinced, my position thaws a little. I twist towards her, speaking directly into her ear while she continues to grip hold of me with all her strength. “The plane will pause at the end of the runway, here, then speed up. Once it’s left the ground, it’ll climb at a steep angle, and you’ll hear a thump as the landing gear is stored away. It’s all normal. You’re safe.”
“Okay.” She relaxes enough to let go of me, then grabs for my hand again as we take-off. We’re in the air for a few minutes before her grip finally lessens and blood flows into the dents left by her fingers. “How long until we’re back on the ground?”
“An hour or so. It’s quicker than a commercial flight.”
Her unexpected panic has caused her face to flush again. The deep colour in her cheeks sets off her eyes so wonderfully that I can imagine seeking ways to stimulate the response, just to enhance the view.
If I were keeping her, which of course I’m not.
As she relaxes into the flight, Crimson pulls back, her face tilted away from mine as she tries to see out of the opposite window. Her face brightens as the plane tips to the side enough to expose the sea of lights beneath us. “Everything looks so small.”
“Come here.” My arm presses into the soft underside of her breasts as I lean across to unbuckle her. Then I slide one hand behind her to rest on the curve of her waist, positioning the other on the hip closest to me.
