Chapter 51

Evie

Private Jet, Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean

T heir day started before the sun rose, although Cole did everything in his power not to wake her before he had to, even going so far as to carry her from the house to the car. She woke when they pulled into the private airfield, just in time to carry her own bag onto the plane and select her seat. The pilots had introduced themselves, a flight attendant gave them instructions on what to do in the case of an emergency, and, in no time at all, they were in the air. All fairly straightforward, except for Evie's descent into terror as the plane itself ascended.

Frankly, Evie blamed her takeoff-induced panic attack on the flight attendant’s helpful speech on emergency protocol. She tried to hide it, but, of course, Cole noticed. Without any fuss, he informed her that one of the perks of owning your own jet was being able to sit anywhere and tugged her into his lap, his hand rubbing along her back while he told her stories about his childhood in the soothing baritone that had never once—not in over two decades—failed to calm her.

Eventually, the flight leveled out, and she found herself breathe normally again. Once that happened, Cole all but force fed her breakfast and made her drink water while she watched the sun rise through the window. Her head resting against Cole’s shoulder, Evie simply observed the beauty of the sky surrounding the plane. She thought it would be terrifying this far away from the ground—and it was—but it was also magical. This high up, she could feel the moon in a way that she never did when she was on the ground.

Eventually, Cole got impatient answering emails, which was around the time when he unbuckled their seatbelts and laid her out on the table in front of their seats. The first leg of her first-ever flight was then spent moaning while Cole licked and fingered her like it was what he had been put on this earth to do and demanded that she "Come all over my face like the dirty little witch you are.” Which she had, screaming his name as her fingers tangled in his hair, until, with a growled “ fuck ,” he flipped her onto her stomach, ripped down his pants, and drove her into a conscious-altering orgasm before he shouted a curse and came so hard that his cum was dripping down her thighs before he was done.

Cole slumped down and rested his weight along her back. His breath was ragged as he kissed her shoulder, palming her ass. “Angel, you are going to be the fucking death of me.”

“Do you think they heard?” Evie glanced at the cockpit where the pilots and flight attendant were seated, giggling breathlessly at the thorn-riddled rosebush that had magically sprouted around the cockpit’s door.

Cole aimed an amused glance at her over her shoulder. “I think they probably heard us all the way back in New Orleans.”

Evie buried her head in her hands, feeling the blush spread across her cheekbones.

Before she could feel truly embarrassed, though, Cole had pulled out of her and rolled her onto her back, his piercing eyes staring down at her. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Every sound you make, no matter what it’s for, is my favorite. Like music to my ears, especially when you’re screaming for me.” He gave her an exaggerated wink. “So do I think they heard us? Fuck yeah. Do I give a shit? Not in the least.”

Resting a palm against Cole’s cheek, Evie tilted up and kissed him gently, pouring all of her love for him into the connection. Somehow, despite having spent as much time together as they had over the last several days, things only kept growing in intensity; the sex better than anything she could dream up, the relationship more loving than she ever imagined it could be. She loved him with all of her heart and never wanted to be without him. Fortunately, she would never have to be. Wriggling against Cole, she tried to raise herself from the table, but he was having none of it.

“You’re gonna have to give me a few more minutes,” he murmured, pinching her ass. Evie let loose a high-pitched squeal of pleasure at the pain. “But if you make that sound again, it won’t even take that long.”

With a laugh, Evie pushed him away and sat up. Cole had barely undressed her before pressing her back on to the dining table. As a result, her jeans were hanging from one ankle, her panties were a shredded bundle of lace on the floor across the way (she was almost certain he had ripped them off her with his teeth in his desperation to have his mouth on her), and her cozy off-the-shoulder sweater was drunkenly sloped to one side. “Excuse you, I need to breathe,” she scolded him jokingly. “You’re heavy!”

One dark eyebrow raised in response. “You’ve never complained about not breathing before.” He chuckled, and, in spite of everything they had done and her comfort with her sexuality, Evie felt her cheeks flush both at the imagined visual and the raspy tone in which he said it.

“Damn, you’re cute when you blush,” he commented.

“You think I’m cute when I do anything so that’s not exactly a novel concept.” Evie sat up and set to rearranging her top. “You told me you thought it was cute that I couldn’t drive in a straight line in—oh, what was that video game you showed me?” Playing the game had been one of Cole’s late-night ideas. Once she had figured out how the controllers and the game worked and what she was supposed to be doing, it had been fun if chaotic. That wasn't to say she was any good at it because she most definitely wasn’t.

“Mario Kart. And you were cute. You kept running into the walls and driving backwards, but you had this scrunchy, annoyed look on your face—yeah, that one you’re wearing right now— that said you were either going to get it right or die trying.” He tapped her on the nose. “It’s a lot less endearing to have that irritated glare directed at me, though.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and he gasped mockingly. “You make fun of me on my very own jet? How far I have fallen from my days of glory.”

“Speaking of your private jet.” Dropping into the seat next to him, she swiveled towards him. Before she could get comfortable in the cushy chair, though, Cole had picked her up and situated her in his lap. At her lifted eyebrow, he shrugged and snuggled her further into him. “Uh-uh, no, my love, you do not get to get out of conversations by being cute.” She pushed against his chest to straighten herself, but his arms tightened around her until she gave up and decided to have the conversation with her head nestled into his shoulder. “Private jets cause massive damage to the environment and are hardly ever actually necessary since you could easily fly a commercial airline instead. They certainly aren’t all that much faster. So you’re just creating a huge carbon footprint for something you don’t actually need.”

Cole’s lips twitched. “I’m 6’5”, Angel. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to fly commercial when you don't physically fit into the space?”

“I do not, no, nor do I particularly care.” Her words would have been far more effective if she hadn’t nuzzled into him and caught a whiff of his scent that knocked her breathless.

“Are you asking me to get rid of the jet, little witch?” His emerald green eyes, glinting in mischief, met hers.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

“Well.” His thumb rubbed her chin, and she practically melted against him. “I think I could be okay with that. But it isn’t all bad,” he continued just as she was about to jump on his agreement. “There are some good elements too.”

“Oh, and what are tho—” Her squeak of surprise cut off the snarky reply when Cole stood with no warning, hoisting her in his arms and striding to the back of the jet.

“So I guess the private amenities, known staff, your spouse’s ability to fit in a seat, none of that will convince you to keep the jet, hmm?”

“Nope.” He was trying to prove a point. What point that was she couldn’t say, but she wasn’t going to bite. “Not at all.”

“Well, then I guess this room won’t matter, huh?” After balancing her on his hip, Cole reached out and swung open the door in front of them revealing a spacious room, a significant portion of which was taken up by a bed covered in plush, soft-looking bedding.

Evie hopped out of his arms and meandered into the room. The carpet was a brilliant snowy white, thick and sumptuous under her toes as she padded around the space in her bare feet. She skated her hand over the covers, biting back a moan at how decadent they felt.

Cole leaned against the doorframe, his dark hair mussed, an amused smirk gracing his face as he watched her roam.

Gods, he’s too damn beautiful , she thought, coming around the bed to stand in front of it.

Her facial expression must have reflected the intensity of her emotions because his face lit up in a full smile, although his next words were teasing. “So I guess we can shut this room off then, hmm? Since there’s nothing I can say or show you to change your mind?”

With a grumble, Evie grabbed his shirtfront and tugged him to the bed where he made an extremely compelling case as to why they should keep the jet. And when she nodded off after he made her scream for him—something he reminded her that he couldn't do if they flew commercial—and turned her brain into barely functional mush, her mind was empty of anything but Cole.