Page 67 of Soulmate of the Mafia King
“Damn right.” I got to my feet with another groan. “I hate surprises. I’m gonna shower or something. I’ll…” I wandered away before the sentence seemed worth finishing.
Cold water and black coffee chased away a lot of my lingering drunkenness. A mild headache throbbed in my temples, nothing I couldn’t handle, and the plane stopped spinning. I opened the weekend bag with my initials on it and rifled through the clothes.
Some really upscale pieces that wouldn’t wrinkle. Some pajamas. Alotof underwear, all the tiny, lacy pieces I’d bought because it made Tom stare. Nothing casual. I groaned and sat down on the bed. I trusted him. Of course, I did. But disappearing in a plane with no control over what I was wearing and no idea where I was going?
I sucked in a deep breath. He knew what that did to me. He wouldn’t do it unless he had a really good reason, unless he knew what waited on the other side was worth it. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me. He wouldn’t ask for anything I couldn’t give.
With slightly shaking hands, I pulled out one of his favorite lingerie sets and a slinky black dress with a slit so high he’d almost be able to see the lingerie through it. I left my hair down to dry but blotted on a little light makeup. Then, I returned to the main cabin.
Tom opened and closed his mouth a few times. “I see the shower agreed with you.”
An idea appeared in my mind. I perched on his lap, ran my finger over his lower lip. “It really did.”
I watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Desire gathered in my gut. I did want him. I wanted to take apart his carefully constructed tux and lay bare the man I knew hid underneath. Sera and Killian’s wedding had been beyond beautiful, but I was ready to return to normal life. And normal life, thankfully, included a very naked Tom.
“How long is it before we land?” I scraped my nail lightly along his jaw, just the suggestion of a touch. His green eyes darkened with want.
“N-not long.” He glanced out the window. “Not long enough.”
I smirked. “For you or for me?”
He shuddered. “This is supposed to be?—”
I kissed him, tasting the scotch he’d been drinking all night on his lips, letting his cinnamon scent enfold me. He grabbed my hips and kissed me hungrily. I ground down against his lap, and he responded quickly. When he skimmed his hands up from my hips to my breasts, I arched into him with a moan. His answering groan was music to my ears, just quiet enough to let me know he was holding back. I wound my fingers into his hair and tugged. My name spilled from his lips much less carefully. After another moment, I pulled back, breathless.
“I can do the math,” I said. “Just tell me where we’re going, and?—”
A disbelieving grin broke over his face. “You almost had me.”
“What?” I touched my own kiss-swollen lips, trying to hold onto the illusion that I was mad with want. Hopefully, my actually wet panties were helping to sell it a little. I wouldn’t mind fucking Tom here, in the main cockpit, instead of bothering with the bed.
He just kept staring at me with that same smile. Even when I groped my own breasts, pushing them up until they nearly escaped the confines of both bra and dress.
I dropped back into my seat with a groan. “Dammit! Why won’t you just tell me?”
“I promise I’ve got a good reason.” He shook his head and chuckled. “But I am impressed.”
“You didn’t even find the lingerie,” I grumbled.
Tom’s eyes lit, but I ignored him. He didn’t deserve it now.
I sulked for another ten minutes, until an announcement came over the speakers.
“Please fasten your seatbelts as we begin our landing.”
I obeyed grumpily, then glanced at Tom. He’d gone pale. I took his hand and began telling him the story Lauren had been telling me right before I noticed him hovering at the edge of the party. Whatever else he’d done, I wasn’t going to ignore that.
We landed smoothly, and the door to the plane opened. My breath caught. I knew that smell, those lights.
“Why did you take me back to Paris?” I asked.
He kissed my cheek. “Patience, my darling. All will be revealed soon.”
Despite my mood, the sights of the city retained their allure. I plastered myself to the window of the car Tom nudged me into. God, there were so many lights. Everything glowed here, and whenever I looked back at Tom, he did too. The gold suited him, brought out highlights in his green eyes I rarely noticed.
We pulled up in front of an expensive-looking hotel, and Tom ignored my questions all the way up to our penthouse suite. He dropped our bags, then opened a massive curtain covering most of the back wall.
I couldn’t hide my gasp. The Eiffel Tower stood there, framed by gilt-edged windows, lit by a million lights. It was so much closer, so much bigger than it had been in the last hotel we stayed at. I drifted forward, only half aware I was moving.
