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The smirk on his face sliding right off. "You know, you've said that so much these last few weeks, it's lost its charm."
And yet it still makes me smile.
"Trust me, the last thing I'm trying to do ischarmyou." She snaps. "Get off the plane, please, Mr. Giordano. You're holding us up, and Ireallycan'tmiss this appointment."
"I think I'm staying."
I watch Sabrina's metaphorical hackles rise. "GET OFF OF MY FUCKING PLANE! I DON'T WANT YOU HERE!" her chest heaves. The flight attendant scurries into the cockpit. "I don't want to look at you, I don't want to hear you grunt. I don't want to smell you. Or feel you watching me. I don't want to smell the whiskey or have to stand it on your breath when you grunt at me. I. Don't. Want. You. Here." She grabs the bottle of Johnnie Blue and flings it at him, which he catches before it hits his head. See? Good aim, my girl. "Take the fucking liquor as my wedding gift to you and go.Please. You are notwanted, nor are youneededon this trip, Mr. Giordano."
It's silent.
Deadsilent.
The kind of silence that makes the little hairs on your arm stand on end, letting you know danger is near.
I slide my hand to my waistband, by my gun holster, ready for anything.
Maksim looks grim as he takes her in, dark eyes perusing her as he puts the bottle down. I almost feel bad for the guy. Almost. I know what he's thinking. Had she beenanyoneelse, had his right hand been there instead of me, there would've been two guns pointed at her head for the blatant disrespect. I can feel his anger from here, and I can see how hard she's trying not to shake.But not from fear, from her own anger. Turmoil. From having to hide how she really feels at all times and now letting just a small sliver show.
Oh, my little hellcat’s still in there, clawing her way out, slowly but surely.
"Sorry, we're late - oh, shit. Uh, are we... interrupting something?" We hear from the door of the plane as Jonas and Raven step through.
"No," Maksim says, slamming shut his laptop, standing, buttoning his suit jacket, and then taking a final sip of the amber liquid in his glass tumbler, sucking his teeth as he swallows. "I was just leaving,” he says. He brushes past Sabrina, he lands a chaste, whiskey-soaked kiss on her cheek. "Have a safe trip,Princess." He turns and strides past Raven and Jonas with nothing more than a head nod and steps out to the staircase.
She wipes the kiss away with the back of her fist, but I know it's not enough for her. She feels it like an imprint. That's what she told me touch does to her. It feels filthy until she can clean it off.
It's why I don't allow myself to touch her. I never want her to associate my touch with feeling dirty and still, I want to brand her skinwith my kisses, my tongue, my touch, my cum. Whatever happened to her, I want to remove whatever essence happened and replace it with me.
I want her to be as consumed by me as I am by her.
"Excuse me," she says to us and goes to the bathroom and comes back out with a smile on her face.
No one believes it.
Raven and Sabrina fall asleep side by side, facing each other. They look like a yin and yang symbol. It's the only way I can describe it. Sabrina with her blonde hair under her pink blanket, and Raven with her dark hair under a purple blanket. Raven, being empathetic to Sabrina's needs, wears little black lace gloves, and they're intertwined with Sabrina's pink ones.
It's a beautiful thing when my girl lets you in. I want in. I want all the way in. I want to breathe her in until my lungs feel full, feel her warmth, or give her mine when she's cold. I want every thought in that beautiful mind of hers.
I want all the things I shouldn't.
I want to own and consume her – heart, body, mind, and soul.
"You know, it's not too late to tell her how you feel," Jonas says from beside me.
I shake my head. "Contract's been signed."
He sighs. "I hate this for you, man."
“Yeah, I hate it for me, too.” I reply.
I've never seen her so stressed.
Granted I'm hardly allowed access to her private time, but she hardly had time to step foot in the gym or go running with me in the morning this week. She's been eating like a bird, just grazing here and there. Green eyes look empty, and the closer we get to her wedding date, the more she's been tapping her fingers to her thumbs, doubling up on her gloves, and every call she makes, whether it's friends or family, or the wedding planner, she gets off of it huffing and puffing.
Her nightly fits are back, worse than before. I've had to climb in behind her and soothe her. While I love the way her body fits next to mine, feeling like a puzzle piece put in the right place, all I could do was speak to her softly, biding my time until she stopped shaking or murmuring.
Ifind her in the kitchen two days before the wedding, sitting on the countertop reading her Kindle. The entire kitchen looks like a bakery threw up. That's another thing - she hasn't had time to bake. The only thing that keeps her from going insane, and she hasn't done it in a while.