Page 125 of Chad's Chase
Hearing him lumber down the aisle toward me, I sighed and dipped into my satchel for my e-reader and powered it on.
Sambo sat down in the seat across the table. A minute of nothing, then, “This how you’re always gonna be? Acting like you got no respect for me?”
Tapping on the J.R. Ward e-book I’d started reading the night before, I replied, “Sambo, I’m notactinglike I have no respect for you.”
I could practically hear his teeth grinding. “I’ve been extremely patient with you, Jhay. Reasonably tolerable. But if you don’t want to see the bad side of me, the side that’ll fist you in the face then jerk off on the bruise, I suggest you—”
Ayra materialized, her trained smile still in effect.
Setting my e-reader face-down on the table, I gave her my undivided attention.
“Now that you are both settled, we will be taking off in fifteen minutes,” she said flowingly, her eyes avoiding me, looking only at Sambo. “Please know that I am here at your disposal. So if there is anything I can help you with…”—she looked at me here— “anything at all, don’t hesitate to—”
“I need to have a word with the fucking pilot,” Sambo snapped, voice gruff. Flat-out inimical to Ayra because I flirted with her. “Now,bitch.”
Ayra met his stare, and there was a glint of something menacing there in those hazel eyes. Yeah, she was picturing herself beating the shit out of Sambo. Did he not know she wasn’t just a hostess and could probably snap his neck faster than he could stand? Maybe he wasn’t one hundred percent knowledgeable on how The Organization operated. Quite possibly so. Because I’d been assassinating for these people for six years, and knew absolutely nothing about who they were until Chad educated me. So maybe Sambo was partially in the dark, knowing only what they wanted him to know.
Ayra delivered a sly smile, her gaze sliding to me and then back to Sambo. “Sure, sir.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked in an utterly dull tone when Ayra left us, picking up my e-reader once more. “Kick her off the plane?”
“I know you want to fuck her, but it’s not happening,” he gritted out. “Piss me off any further and you’re not gonna like it.”
I rolled my eyes, only half-lending him my attention. “Easy with the threats, Sammy boy. Last I remember, I was the one who hadyourlife in my hands. You should be thanking my deceased lover you’re alive, you worthless shit. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” Taking my eyes off the e-reader, I set the thing down again, then rested my hand atop the table and locked my gaze with his. “And don’t forget who my father is, or the fact that he owns you now because you’re a lazy shit who wants to keep me so you can mooch off him.” I pushed forth a little victory grin at the tightening of his jaw. “You. Can’t. Touch. Me.”
Sambo’s hands fisted on the table, his jaw working, but he had nothing to say, because he knew I was right. Like I said earlier, I might be forced to stay with him, but he wasn’t the one in control. I was.
A throat cleared above us. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
What the…?
I froze.
Sambo froze, the anger sliding off his features as fear took over.
That voice.
That smooth, suave, serene voice.
Holy. Fuck.
How was this even possible?
Sambo watched me as I watched him, neither of us looking up. I didn’t want to look, because I was afraid if I looked up, I would wake up and find this was all a teasing dream. That I didn’t just hear him speak. That he wasn’t really alive. That he really did die. That everyone hadn’t been fucking lying to me.
I didn’t want to look up because I wanted this so much to bereal.
Sambo was stronger than I was in that instance, because he broke our frozen gazes and slowly tipped his head up. I watched his Adam’s apple bob weightily in his throat. “The hell’s this, Niiveux?”
A suppressed gun appeared next to Sambo’s temple, and my breathing hitched when I saw the hand holding it.
That hand that was so gentle in its touch. That long index finger on the trigger, how hot and slippery it used to look with my arousal all over it. That thumb, the skilled manner in which it would circle my clitoris…ohmygodI missed that hand.
“You insult me by asking this, Sambo,” my undead lover replied in that beguilingly easy voice of his. “You stole my favorite toy. And now, playtime is over.”
His favoritetoy? This made me look up, about to tell him just who was a toy and who wasn’t, but not a word could leave me at the sight of him. He was dressed impeccably like a pilot, full get-up, hat and all. And oh what a hot ass pilot he was. He was fresher than early morning breeze, everything about him exuding sex, power, and control. I wanted to fuck him. Right there. I really wanted to pause this moment with him and Sambo and fuck him standing up.
Time freeze. Please. I needed a goddamn time-freeze remote.
