Page 165 of Ruthless Chaos
He searches my eyes earnestly. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I nod.
My stomach is in knots, but I feign a smile and try to make him believe that I’m fine. He kisses me on the mouth this time. I clutch his torso, holding on to the fleeting arousal surging within me. I kiss him for as long as he lets me.
I want something, anything to make me feel better.
When Alexander breaks us apart, my heart sinks.
“As soon as we get to the hotel,” he says, running his thumb along my lip. He lowers his lips to my ear. “I’ll fill your greedy cunt with my cock and make you come so much you’ll forget everything about this.”
A shiver travels down my spine, and I nod.
That’s exactly what I need.
When Alexander and I rejoin the group, everyone is getting ready to board the plane. I pick up my coat and join the queue beside Tara.
Alexander falls into step beside me.
“Sit with me,” he says.
I don’t know what to say. I promised to sit beside Tara. Her expression is guarded. Alexander’s got an impatient look about him.
“It’s fine, Al,” Tara whispers, squeezing my forearm. “I’ll be fine.”
I give her the most apologetic look I can muster. She swats me away.
I follow Alexander to the front of the line. The uniformed lady at the door doesn’t check our passports, only waves us with a metal detector. It goes off on Alexander, but she doesn’t ask him any questions about it.
Instead, she gives him a flirtatious smile that gets under my skin.
He chuckles and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. She gives me a slight sneer and I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at her.
“What’s the point of the metal detector?” I ask when we’re out on the tarmac.
The plane we’re about to get on is as huge as a commercial liner and hasDu Pont Industriesemblazoned on its side in black sans serif letters.
When Tara told me that Vance’s parents were rich, I thought she meant in the usual way. This isn’t the kind of plane I picture whenever anyone says private jet. Uncle Laurent’s, for example, can only hold like fifteen people.
This one could probably fit a hundred.
“It’s policy,” Alexander says. “They do it to say they’ve done it.”
“What set it off?”
He shrugs, offering me his elbow when we get to the stairs that lead up to the plane’s door. I take it, and he steadies me as we ascend. The stairs have me rethinking my entire outfit. I hold on to the edge of my pleated skirt so I don’t flash everyone.
My heels don’t make climbing these stairs easy, either.
“It could be anything,” Alexander says. “One of my guns. I have a knife in my boot. Could be my ring or my chain.”
Alexander chooses a pair of seats in the back of the plane, and he gives me the window. I settle into the comfortable leather chair. He sits beside me, then leans over conspiratorially.
“I know I said we could wait until we get back to the hotel, but I have a better idea,” he says, looking down at my legs. “I can’t stop thinking about what’s under that fucking skirt.”
A blush heats up my cheeks. He reaches down and slips his fingers under the hem. “What’s your idea?” I ask.
“Do you know what the mile high club is?”
