Beneath the Burn (33 page)

A shiver swept through her and her hand faltered on the railing. “Is the rest of the band onboard? I thought these jets had bedrooms.”

His head dropped and he groaned. “Fuck, Charlee.” He scrubbed a hand over his scalp, mussing the thick strands. “Yes, the guys are boarded.” He looked up at her out of smoldering eyes. “You can count on a bedroom in all our future rentals.”

They were staring at one another, ensconced in their own cosmos, when Tony’s voice floated up from the tarmac. “We’re on a schedule, Mr. Mayard.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed Charlee’s hand, walking backward and leading her into the cabin. “Welcome to the Rolls-Royce of the sky. This twelve passenger jet will whisk us at a speed of Mach .80 for four-thousand nautical miles—”

“Twenty-three hundred nautical miles.” The man in the captain’s chair turned from the dash of blinking screens. “That’s our flight distance from New York to Los Angeles.”

Jay shrugged. “Fine. For twenty-three hundred naughty miles—”

“Nautical miles.” She laughed.

He bit his lip. “Who’s giving this tour?”

She forced a straight face. Clearly, he was unconcerned about Tony’s time schedule. “Right. Go ahead.”

Pulling her a few more steps forward, he cleared his throat. “To your right is the full-service galley.” He stretched out an arm to indicate the built-in wet bar, a grin accentuating his full lips as he opened drawers and lifted rollback covers.

Behind him, a leather couch, convertible tables, and swivel recliners sandwiched the cabin. Not much smaller than her Village apartment, the space easily accommodated the four band members, her and Nathan, and the two bodyguards.

At the rear, Laz’s gelled-up spikes sprouted behind the headrest of a backward-facing recliner. Beside him, two guitar cases were oddly seat belted into their own chair. Wil and Rio perched across the aisle, wearing ear buds, eyes glued to the devices in their hands.

“To your left is the cockpit. This cloud craft features a…” Jay flicked a finger at the high-tech digital control panel. “What’s running this thing?”

The pilot beamed. “An Oxford Romulus 2000 avionics system.”

The blood drained from Jay’s face, and his hands dropped limply at his sides.

She took a step toward the heaving wall of his chest and looked up into his wide eyes. “Get over it. Oxford Industries owns everything, especially in the aerospace industry.” She lowered her voice. “And it’s not like he can control the system from afar and send us hurtling to our deaths.”

A sweaty pallor cast over his skin. Something beyond Roy’s avionic systems was unsettling him. Unease coiled up her spine. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at his Chucks, lips a thin line, and shook his head.

The silence stretched on, fraying her nerves. Standing against him, she leaned back and raised her chin. “So that’s how it’s going to be? Soon as something bothers you, you’re going to close right up? You might as well walk away.”

Without looking up, he bent an arm around her waist and pressed her body to his. His mouth grazed her jaw, her cheek, and settled over her ear. “Told you I’ll never walk away.”

That was probably true. She seemed to attract self-adhesive kind of men. With Jay, she didn’t just want him to stay. She wanted something she didn’t understand. “Will you walk
to
me? Will you move so close that the ground wobbles, the walls between us crumble, and your thoughts rip open until we’re melding our fears and hopes as easily as we share air?”

He parted his lips and calmness drifted out with a sigh. “Just…just show me how.” His hand trembled as it combed through her hair. “Jesus, Charlee. Nothing in this world compares to the way you make me feel.”

His words bore into her heart, filling it with so many hopeful emotions, she thought it might explode.

He pressed his lips to her temple, his voice soft. “My parents died in a plane crash when I was six. It caught me off guard thinking about Roy sending you to your death in this plane.”

Not the answer she was expecting, and it turned her thoughts soft and sticky. She wanted to hug him so badly it hurt. She released her grip on the countertop behind him, wedged her arms between their bodies, and hugged herself instead. “Thank you for telling me.” She leaned against him. “Someday, I’d like to hear more about it.
While
I’m holding you. Okay?”

“Okay.” Color flowed back to his face, but his smile was shaky. He released her, though his fingers seemed reluctant to let go of her waist. He reclaimed her hand and let her lead him through the cabin.

The drummer, Rio, glanced up and yanked his ear buds out. “Well fuck me, you old menstruating recluse.” He rose and strutted down the aisle, tapping a beat on the ceiling with his knuckles and grinning at Jay. “The rumor is true? This is her? The Huntress?”

Huntress.
A flutter awoke in her chest. That one word sucked her back to a time when all she had was Jay’s voice singing to her through her ear buds from outside her prison. She held out a hand. “I’m Charlee.”

Creases formed on Rio’s bald head as his mahogany eyes roamed every inch of her except the hand she offered. “Too fucking sexy for a handshake.” He stretched out his beefy arms. “Come here, baby.”

Tension steamed from Jay’s body as his muscles turned to stone against her back. He reached around her, stabbing a finger at Rio’s chest. “No fucking way.”

“Aw, come on—”

Gliding footsteps approached from behind the drummer’s huge frame. Wil Sima leapt over the nearest chair, knocking Rio’s arm down to get around him, and landed in a crouch on the cushion. He blew his bleached bangs out of his eyes. “Charlee. You made it.”

Jay’s hand tightened in hers, pulling her back a step. The narrow aisle didn’t allow much maneuvering, but he managed to wiggle himself between her and his bandmates.

“Did you bring your tattoo stuff?” Wil cocked his head, his boyish grin matching his lanky body and shaggy hair. “Laz is anxious to pay his debt.”

In the rear of the cabin, Laz knelt against the back of his rear-facing chair with his arms folded on the headrest. He gave her a chin lift and a grimace.

She was surprised he hadn’t found a way out of the bet. “My things didn’t make it.” Everything she owned remained in the duffle bags at her apartment. “Maybe I could have my tattoo supplies shipped.” She couldn’t afford to replace them unless Laz gave her an advance on the twenty grand.

Shaking his head, Jay stared down at her. “No need, Charlee. You and Nathan will have all new things by the time we arrive. Tony’s already arranged it.”

A fit of objections coursed through her, but her shock by how quickly he’d solved their immediate problem of no clothes led the questioning. “When did you coordinate that?”

“She made some calls before we left your apartment. I have personal assistants and shoppers on call.” His tone softened to a careful lull. “Did you leave anything behind you can’t put a price on?”

Like photos? Keepsakes? Family heirlooms? A pinch of pain twisted in her chest. The only sentimental thing she owned was her sketchbook of tattoos. She rubbed a hand over the canvas of her messenger bag where it hung at her hip and felt its shape safe inside. She shook her head.

He stroked a thumb over her cheekbone. “Are there prescriptions or anything specific you need?”

“No, but the tattoo gun…you can’t just—”

“Do you trust me?”

More than she should. She nodded.

Static crackled the overhead speakers. “This is Captain Hugh. We’re ready for departure, so if you’ll take your seats and get those seatbelts on, we’ll push off in about three minutes.”

As Jay guided Charlee to the two side-by-side chairs in the middle of the cabin, she looked for Nathan. A silver-haired woman in a black skirt suit plugged the exterior door. Nathan stood behind her, scanning the cabin. When he locked eyes with Charlee, he slid into a seat in the front row.

Tony moved from her post at the cockpit door and advanced up the aisle, steely eyes on Jay. “Need anything before we take off?”

He lowered into the seat beside Charlee and laced his fingers with hers. “The rest of the security team is returning commercial?”

“Yes. They followed Mr. Oxford to ensure he wouldn’t obstruct our takeoff. Your L.A. team will be waiting for us when we land.”

He let his head fall back against the seat. “Thanks, Tony.”

The lights dimmed and the engines whirred. The leather seat cradled her backside, and the gorgeous man beside her hummed a mellow tune.

What an indulgent way to travel. If she stayed with Jay, could she jet set all over the world with him? What if he and his band lost their lifestyle because of her? Her smile slumped, as did her shoulders.

Damn. Thinking about what-ifs was such a buzz kill. Instead, she concentrated on the hand in hers, the hypnotizing cadence of his soft humming voice, and tried to suspend the moment forever.

44

During the long minutes of taxiing and takeoff, Jay’s proximity was so heady, it rubbed against Charlee’s erogenous zones. He stared at her in silence, his thumb circling the top of her hand. The simmering energy between them multiplied with her heartbeats. The recycled air blowing from the ceiling did little to cool the heat searing from her skin. He appeared just as flushed. In fact, he looked like he was about to crawl out of his clothes.

Once the plane was airborne and the captain turned off the seat belt sign, he released her hand. “I need to talk to Tony for a few minutes, okay?”

“Yep,” she breathed.

Leaning into her, he cupped her jaw and raised her mouth to his. The first touch sent a thrill vibrating through her body. As he deepened the kiss, wildfire spread from his lips, his breath moist and hot, and his tongue coaxing a flame of sensations. He pulled back, drank her in with his eyes, and dipped his head again, kissing every inch of her lips, her cheeks, her eyebrows, and returning to her mouth.

Their tongues, teasing and receiving, stroked warm exhales and muffled moans. She gripped the armrests, gasped for air, and squeezed her thighs together to mollify the ache between them.

One of his hands retreated from her face, sliding down her neck, over her collarbone, lingering along the outside of her breast, and lowered to clutch her waist and pull her closer. The seat belt halted her movement. He released her mouth to glare at the offending obstacle.

Fingers aching in their locked position, she uncurled them and freed the belt. “I want to touch you.”

As she leaned toward him, she glimpsed the guys through the crack between their seats. Rio slumped in the last seat in the rear, head bent on his shoulder, mouth open and eyes closed. On the couch, Laz strummed a guitar in his lap, the sound piping to his large headphones. Beside him, Wil’s face pinched in concentration as he restrung his bass.

Jay removed his hand from her waist, redirecting her attention. He clenched his jaw and gripped the bulge in his leathers. Then he fell toward her and buried his moan in her neck. “Let’s go to the lavatory.”

The charged pulse between her legs dulled. What would Nathan think of her if she snuck off to the bathroom with Jay? Her lungs deflated. She couldn’t risk his judgement without first venting her guilt. “Thought you needed to talk to Tony.”

He put his hands on his knees and frowned at his erection. “Um…Not with this.” The leather pants seemed to magnify his arousal.

“I could shoot it with a rubber band.”

He barked out a strained laugh. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“It’s worked for me in the past.”

His smile crashed into a frown. “What do you mean by that exactly?”

“It’s not what you think. I was just a kid.”

“Jesus.” He stared at her, the whites of his eyes glowing in the dampened light. “That’s even worse.”

“No, this is good story. Want to hear it?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed a hand over his thigh, distractingly close to his erection. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” She curled up in the seat with her legs beneath her and twisted to face him. “When I was little, Craig used to leave me at the neighbor’s house all the time. Nice lady, but she had five boys. Bigger and older, the bastards liked to gang up on me.”

His hand clenched on his leg. “Where was your mother?”