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Damian wants to get his dad to the city, to the best hospital in New York. Dante’s medicated presence and loud snores can be heard from his cubicle in the back of the jet. I have Angel in her basket tucked into the seat beside him. I’ve designated her Grandpa Dante’s therapy cat for the flight.
Hopefully she can sleep through the snoring.
Lucky for us, with our door closed, the sound is blocked out.
It’s been a long, crazy two days. First, we went to his dad’s place which fell into a blur of scary moments and doctors’ visits. Then, we crashed in my room for a few hours before waking up in one another’s arms.
It was slightly awkward as we’ve never slept together, like, actually sleeping, but I found it sweet, to wake up with the sun and each other.
The rest of the time was spent taking turns staying with his father and napping as we packed to prepare his father for departure.
Now, we’re sitting side by side in our cubicle on the jet, the one we first shared that night that seems so long ago. Arie offers us drinks. Having just eaten—Apollo insisted on feeding us before we left, tears in his eyes as he served us—we turn her down.
Sensing our desire for privacy, she slides the door closed behind her.
I blush, thinking back to the memories we made here, among them, him slapping my ass, pulling my hair. I clear my throat, trying to focus on the task at hand. I want to lay down the law before we land. In New York.
“Let’s get a few things straight, shall we?” I say.
He leans in, his words hot by my ear. “Did you forget what I told you?”
“When?” I ask, shrinking away.
“Such a short memory,” he says. He leans closer, lips brushing against my earlobe. “When I smacked your ass right before I slammed my cock into your pussy?”
“Oh. That.” I want to fan my face, cool my heated skin.
“Yes, that. What did I say?” He slips a big hand along the back of my neck, giving a squeeze.
My words come out in a whisper as I force myself to say them. “That I’m not the one in control.”
“Right.” His fingertips dance along the side of my neck. “Remember that and start over.”
My gaze trained down at my lap, I clear my throat. “I’d like to discuss a few things with you.”
“Fine,” he says, his hand slipping away, the absence of his skin suddenly making mine cool. “What’s up.”
I already miss Apollo.
We said our tearful goodbyes only an hour ago. But I need more than one or two close relationships in my life. And having to leave Ava and Claire behind, I need female companionship.
“In the Parrish, I was like some dirty little secret. I never even met the other women on the island. The only people I spoke with were you and your staff,” I say.
“Your point?” He crosses his arms over his chest.
He’s perfectly happy with our current arrangement. I’m not. I force myself to meet his gaze.
I steel my nerves. “It’s not going to be like that in the Village.”
He gives me a pointed look, tapping his palm against his thigh. “Come again.”
I take a deep breath, channeling my inner patience. It’d take a saint to put up with him and not get frustrated. I force myself to count to five. To breathe.
I slow my roll, lowering my tone. “What I’m trying to say is that if I’m going to be living and working among you all, I’d like to request that I be a part of your world. Not hidden away like some kind of…”
“Stowaway?” he says, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Not funny.
