I don’t dare look at him. I can feel his eyes on me as heavy as if they were his hands, and then there it is. His fingers on the small of my back. His palm. His hot skin heating my body through my thin shirt until it bubbles up in my blood. He pulls me around to face him, and finally I lift my eyes to his.
They’re hooded and hungry. They want all the things we’ve denied ourselves night after night, and I feel so much need inside my stomach that I swear I’m starving. I’m dying. I’m drowning in all of the nothing when all I want is just a little something. One bite to get me through another day. Another month of seeing him, unable to touch him as an ever growing part of me cries out for him.
He lowers his head slowly. His mouth finds the corner of mine. My cheek. My nose. My eyelids. He breathes across my skin, setting me on fire as my hands clench in his shirt. He barely touches me, only feather light kisses dotted across my face and down my neck, across my collar bone and back up to my ear. He sucks my lobe into his mouth and my knees go weak. I stumble against him as he pins my ass to the sink and grinds his body against mine, slow and tortuous.
He bites me gently. I gasp. I mewl. I claw at him, shifting my hips to meet his. I listen with delight as his breathing changes, becoming desperate and wet with his kisses that find my face again. He hasn’t kissed my lips, he’s hardly touched me, but I’m about to explode. I’ll die in a burst of flame in this icy room and I won’t be the least bit sorry.
Suddenly he pulls back, his mouth leaving my body. Leaving me cold.
He shakes his head as though he’s trying to clear it. “This isn’t why I came here,” he tells me roughly.
“I know that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
“I—it’s… it’s almost over, right? Once the Draft is over it won’t matter if we do this.”
I pinch my lips together, shaking my head sadly. “You just signed me as your agent. It matters now more than ever. That won’t end with the Draft. And if I can’t get you the Kodiaks, you’ll leave Los Angeles. We’ll never see each other.”
Trey flinches, his eyes dark and conflicted as they gaze down at me. I feel bad for what he sees; pleading eyes, open mouth, heaving chest. Everything about me begs him to stay, to finish this, but we both know it isn’t right. And no matter what I tell myself, one more time would never be enough.
He steps back. I take my hands from his chest. He drops his hands from my hips.
“I’m gonna go,” he tells me quietly.
I feel my heart clench, but I keep my face straight. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Trey surprises me when he steps forward, his hand light on my arm. His lips are a whisper across my mouth.
“I’m going to think about you tonight.” His words are kerosene in my veins. “And I want you to think about me.”
April 28th
Envol Charter Learjet 55/60
Somewhere Over Colorado
“This is the way to fly,” Larkin groans, stretching his legs out. Even at 6’2” his feet don’t reach the empty seat across from him.
I nod my head in agreement, looking over the cream leather seats, glossy, dark wood tables, and miles of extra leg room. Reed sits across from me, slouched in his seat with his headphones on, his eyes closed. He’s snoring. It’s only the second time I’ve traveled with him but I’m starting to think the guy can fall asleep anytime, anywhere.
Across the aisle Larkin is looking out the window. The sunlight plays over his dark skin, highlighting and shadowing his face as it darts behind clouds. He’s smiling like a kid at Christmas. Today is the first time I’ve met him, even though I’ve heard his name non-stop for months. He seems like a decent enough guy, if not a little cocky. But then again, who am I to judge? Sloane and Hollis greeted him with handshakes and smiles, but Brad hugged him like he was his long lost son. Larkin was the first one ushered onto the plane. The first to pick his seat. The first to be offered a drink by the Polynesian stewardess who made my heart clench with homesickness.
“What was the girl’s name?” Larkin whispers to me across the aisle.
“Kailani.”
“Kailani,” he repeats, trying it out. “Does it mean anything?”
I shrug. “Why would I know?”
Larkin sits back in his seat, adjusting his shirt, shifting his gold chain hanging heavy around his neck. “Hey, Kailani?” he calls.
I look over my shoulder to see her come out from the small kitchen area by the bathroom. Her long black hair is pulled over one shoulder and pinned in place by a large hibiscus, really playing up her island vibe. Larkin is obviously eating it up with a spoon.
She smiles at him, her dark eyes expectant. “Can I get you something?”
“Do you have any ginger ale?”
“I do. Would you like it in the can or in a glass?”
“A glass, yeah. No ice.”
She turns to me, her smile widening. “Anything for you?”
I put up my hand, shaking my head. “Nah, I’m good.”
“No snacks? Champagne? A beer? I have imported and domestic.”
“No, thanks.”
She gives Reed a quick glance before turning back to the kitchen. Larkin leans slightly to watch her go.