When you’d seen the person you loved nearly die, the feelings, the fear, etched itself permanently in your psyche. Even though I knew logically that she was healthy, even though the doctor had told me she had a clean bill of health, I found myself filled with doubt—doubt that she’d take a turn for the worst, doubt that something would go wrong and she’d leave me much too soon.
As scary as it was to admit, I didn’t think I could survive without her.
So, she was correct. I would use caution and act a tad irrationally when it came to her health. I couldn’t help it.
But I also wanted to give her everything.
And, fuck, my every fantasy had been wrapped up in a pretty little package while watching her fall apart beneath me as I showed her exactly how little restraint I could have. She was stunning every second of the day, but seeing her like that had been breathtaking. The echoes of her cries as she’d begged for more had been replaying through my head in an endless loop, and I had every intention of recreating that scene in a dozen different places over the next few weeks.
“You’ve got that dopey, faraway look in your eyes,” Lailah said, bending down to catch my gaze.
I smiled, taking in her features, as she stared at me with a goofy grin. Her hair was piled high on her head in a sloppy bun, and not a trace of makeup graced her flawless skin. It was such a stark difference from the woman I’d watched walking down the aisle yesterday, yet it was still so beautiful.
When she was like this, I could see the Lailah I’d fallen in love with. When she’d walked down that aisle yesterday, I had seen the woman she’d become along the way.
“They’re just dopey because I’m thinking about you,” I answered, tugging on her hand to pull her into the seat next to me.
We were going to take off soon, and I knew we would need to be buckled in.
“Ready to go to . . .” she asked, expectantly looking at me.
“Oh, no. I’m not telling you now. I haven’t planned and plotted this long to screw it all up in the last inning.”
“Fine.” She folded her arms across her chest, and her lips jutted out into a ridiculous pout.
I shook my head, leaning back to close my eyes, as we waited to take off.
She’d forgive me once we landed.
I hoped.
I usually found plane rides uneventful and dull, just endless hours to fill with mindless nothingness. I’d try to work, but I’d never manage to get anything accomplish. I’d pick up a book but get annoyed by the snoopy person next to me who felt the need to read over my shoulder or talk about how he or she had just read and loved something similar. The movie selection was always horrible, and I was a picky sleeper, never able to find the correct position to drift away for a few precious hours of the flight.
But that was all before I’d found the perks of having Lailah with me . . . on a private plane.
Now that I had, I didn’t think we’d ever fly commercial again.
Nope, I was officially spoiled.
After a breakfast fit for a king, I proposed we head to the bedroom for a nap. My eyebrows might have suggestively waggled a tad. Lailah looked at me before her eyes quickly darted to the flight attendant as she cleaned up our dishes.
Trained to remain invisible unless acknowledged, Brie was used to attending to rock stars and billionaire businessmen. I was sure the wealth of secrets she had locked away was endless and worth a fortune. But being the professional she was, she remained quiet and courteous, disappearing in the back to finish her duties.
“Oh my gosh! Now, she knows we’re going to be in there . . . you know!”
“No, I don’t know. Could you be a little more descriptive, Lailah?” I grinned, leaning back in my chair.
“You suck!” she declared, swiftly rising from her seat to pace across the room.
“Oh, come on! She’s probably seen it all—and then ten times worse than that. She flies with celebrities. We’re probably the most boring flight she’s been on in decades. We need to go in there and have loud monkey sex just to liven things up a bit for her.”
Lailah turned, blankly looking at me. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“About what? The celebrities? No, I’m dead serious. I think Maroon Five was in here last week.”
Her mouth gaped for a minute before she shook her head.
“No, you dork! Not the celebrities—although we’re coming back to that. You seriously just suggested we have sex . . . for our stewardess?”
I laughed. This was fun. “I don’t think the PC term is stewardess anymore. I believe they are called flight attendants now.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“With sex?” I grinned. I jumped from my seat to stalk toward her.
“No, I’m thinking bare hands right now,” she answered. She tried to show anger, but all that came through was a dorky smile.
“All I got from that sentence was bare, so I’m assuming you agree to the sex.”
Her eyes went wide as I stood in front of her. Both of us were primed for attack, but we waited for the other to take the first move.
“What? Jude, no!”
I beat her, bending forward and swiftly hoisting her over my shoulder. It was a bit of a crazy move for a plane in the middle of a flight, but whatever. She was playing difficult, and I had plans—and only four more hours of airtime to execute them.