Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Deciding to stretch my legs, I get up and walk to the back of the plane and then to the front, stopping to look out the emergency door’s window. Not sure why I’m relieved that we’re over land when we could crash there just as we could in the ocean.
“So you’re not the porter?”
I stand and turn, coming toe-to-toe with the enemy. He thinks I can’t see who he really is—insecure little rich boy. This coming from being a rich kid myself. Insecure . . . not so much, though. I spent years disproving the people who think I live off handouts. I had an in with the law firm, but I could have gone to work anywhere after graduating top in my class. I’ve made my own fortune from hard work and solid investments.
This guy . . . I’d be shocked if he’s worked a full day in his life. He looks weak, and he’s definitely spineless.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I reply, “No. I’m not the porter.”
“Do you own the jet?”
“I have no need to own a jet, but I paid for the trip.”
He glances over his shoulder to the ladies, who are currently looking very nervous that Carter and I are talking. He turns back, and asks, “Why?”
“Because Tu—Céline needed to get to Europe.”
“She tells you to jump, and you ask how high?” He chuckles under his breath. “Now I know why she keeps you around.”
“You don’t know shit.” Smirking, I lower my arms to my sides, trying to keep myself from popping him in that smarmy grin of his. “Trust me when I tell you that’s not why she keeps me around.”
“I’ve met plenty of guys like you. You meet a pretty girl and suddenly get a little possessive. Surely, you realize that Céline and I are engaged.” Reaching over, he flicks the collar of my shirt.
Fuck his engagement to Céline. I jerk my shoulder back and lower my voice. “Touch me again, and you’ll lose that fucking hand.”
“Okay. Okay,” he mocks, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Settle down.”
Is he fucking with me? “Don’t tell me to settle down. You came over here for a reason. Get to your fucking point, and then move the fuck away from me.”
“What’s in this for you? You want money? Fine, I’ll write you a check, and you can drop us off and be on your merry way, sport.”
He’s stupid enough to laugh at me.
Though it won’t be painless, I’ll make it quick.
“I’ve never seen anyone go down that fast,” I say, still surprised that’s all it took. “Out cold with one little hit.”
Tuesday glares up at me. “Little?”
I shrug. “It’s not like I was using my full strength or anything. It wasn’t much more than a tap.”
“Loch,” she cautions while pressing an ice pack found in the fridge to the right side of his face. It’s not my fault he didn’t heed my warning.
Even so, the last thing I need to be doing is making her feel sorry for the fucker. “I’ll wait over here.” I sit in the seat I’ve occupied most of the flight and watch as Carter starts to come to again.
Allison and Tuesday help him to his feet and walk him over to sit across from me. Why? I have no fucking idea, but I’ve already decided that I need to play nice. When he covers her hand over the ice pack and looks at her like she’s not my whole world, but his, I restrain the urge to pummel him.
Allison moves the photo album and is quick to sit next to him. She hands the book to Tuesday, who retreats next to me, resting it on her lap. “He said he won’t press charges, but there are conditions.”
“Why are you speaking for him?”
“I’m not. I’m just relaying his terms.”
“I don’t give a fuck about his terms and conditions. He needs to learn respect for others.” She stares at me like we’ve never met, like I’m the adversary. I push up and head for the lavatory. I look back and see them talking, intensity exchanged between them. “Fuck.”
Before I can shut the door, a hand stops it from closing. “Loch?”
I release the handle. Tuesday slips inside and closes the door behind her and locks it. A good few seconds pass while I wait to hear her side of things, but the words don’t come. She slides her hands under my shirt, lifts up on her toes, and kisses me instead.
This isn’t how we handle our issues, but when her hand starts undoing my pants, I realize it’s not only desire driving her to kiss me like we won’t get another chance. It’s need.
The rest of the world can wait. We need this connection to each other.
As we pull back, our eyes latch onto each other’s, our breath hot and heavy in the tight quarters. I cup her face and kiss her gently. When I open my eyes, her lids slowly open, and I say, “Take off your pants.”