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I brush her gorgeously messy hair from her face, then lean in for a kiss. After, we stay close, staring into each other's eyes.
"Not even a week since Vegas, but it feels like an eternity."
"You've got no idea how happy I am you're here," she murmurs. "That we're together... I thought I was going to have to stay in that apartment alone, waiting for Damien to show up, waiting for everything to go wrong again."
"He won't hurt you ever again," I say firmly. "Nobody will. I'm proud of you."
"Proud?"
"You were threatened. Your life was in danger. You're handling it all remarkably well."
"Except for all the crying and the manic cleaning breakdown, you mean?"
I kiss her again. "Nobody could blame you for that. You've been through a lot. All things considered, you're a hero."
She rolls her eyes with a scoff. "I wouldn't go that far."
For a while, we sit in comfortable silence, looking out the window together. Then she whispers, "It seems silly under the circumstances..."
"Nothing you could say to me would seem silly."
Another eye roll.
"But if you roll your eyes like that again, your book master might have to teach you a lesson."
She bites her lip, her wide eyes igniting a rush of hunger within me. I've tried to keep my instincts at bay considering everything she's been through, but when she looks at me like that, it's Vegas all over again.
"I saw the interview," she murmurs.
"That was a hatchet job," I grunt. "They spliced it up to make it seem like I was flirting with her, taking quotes from one part and inserting them into another. The only true thing was when I said she smelled nice... which was a damn lie, and I only said itbecause my PR manager looked ready to slap me. I regretted it instantly. Everything else was editing."
"Really? So I smell nicer than her?"
Her voice grows breathy, her tone becoming suggestive. I place my hand on her leg. She's dressed in sweats and a casual T-shirt, but she might as well be wearing her Vegas lingerie; the effect she has on me is the same. My desire strains against my pants, intense and immediate.
"As much as I'd love to join the mile-high club with you," I say fiercely, sliding my hand higher. "I know you've been through a lot..."
She glances around the empty private plane, then bites her lip and moans. "That isn't an answer to my question."
"You and that interviewer aren't even in the same category. You're my obsession, Sparkplug. My everything. You're the only woman I want."
"Maybe your woman needs to forget..."
She grabs my face and pulls me in for a kiss. The moment our lips touch, hunger spikes through me. I can't hold back when I sense the desire radiating from her. I grab her hips and pull her into my lap.
She sits facing me, her body pressed against mine, gasping and moaning between our hungry kisses. We're like starving people who have finally found sustenance.
I wrap my arms around her, shifting my hips, pressing against her through our clothes. She sinks her fingernails into my neck.
"I want you," she whimpers. "I want to..."
"Join the mile-high club with me?"
She laughs, a sweet sound after so many tears, flooding me with warmth beyond mere desire. "Seriously, you're a mind reader..."
"I'm just good at putting ideas into your head."
"Nope. I had the idea the second we got on this plane."