“Please, ma’am. You’re the guest,” the attendant replies, steady and respectful, rolling it toward the cargo hold.
Sky steps back, exhales once, then turns. Her eyes land on me. A flush spreads along her cheeks before she reins it in. She straightens, lifts her chin, and approaches.
I skip down to meet her.
“Hey,” I keep my tone light as I close the distance.
She stops in front of me and allows her gaze to travel slowly from my polished black boots up my tailored charcoal suit. “You look absurdly put together for someone who’s been burning the candle at both ends.”
“I’malwaysput together.” I can’t help but smile. God, I’ve missed her.
“Insufferable,” she mutters, but affection lingers in her voice.
I don’t hesitate. I pull her into me. Her body stiffens for a fraction of a second, surprised, then softens. Her arms slide around my back firmly, cheek settling against my chest.
I hold her longer than I should. When I step back, my hands remain at her waist.
“You good?” I search her face for any sign of wariness.
She nods once and her eyes flick to the plane behind me. “Yeah. I’m…fine.”
“Great. Let’s go,” I prompt, gesturing to the plane.
She inhales slowly. “Sure. Why not climb into an absurd flying hotel at midnight?”
“You’re welcome.” I lean down, lips brushing her ear.
She trembles.
Inside, the cabin glows, lighting set for the red-eye. Cream leather catches ochre strips along the ceiling. Walnut trim reflects soft highlights. She pauses just inside the doorway, carefully taking in the space.
“So, this is normal for you,” she murmurs.
“It’s actually practical.”
She turns her head slowly. “Practical.Rigggght.”
Ignoring her lighthearted jab, I lift the Cristal from its cradle.
“Drink?” I offer, pouring the bubbly liquid into a flute.
Seemingly unimpressed, she takes it, fingers brushing mine for half a breath before lifting the glass. Her eyes widen slightly after the first sip, then she recovers. “Who are you, and what did you do with my beer-drinking law school friend?”
“He’s left the building,” I wink.
Her gaze drifts to the caviar service laid out in silver and porcelain.
“Oh, comeon.” She steps closer. “I’d have been fine with a bag of Doritos.”
“We’ve got to eat. It’s a long flight.”
She studies me over the rim of her flute. “Okay. Now, you’re showing off.”
I let my posture relax. Cool. Controlled. Sky thinks this is an ostentatious spectacle.
Little does she know it’s a seduction.
We move deeper into the cabin. Her fingertips trail lightly along the back of each seat, nervous energy disguised as curiosity. Through the galley and past the cabin restrooms, we reach the aft suite. I open the door and wave her inside, following at a measured pace.
