Page 5 of Lust Hate Love (Fallen Angel 4)

“Please, take your time, Killian.” Levi looked at the watch circling his wrist and then back to me. “It’s not like we’re on a tight schedule or anything.”

“It’s a fucking fourteen-hour flight. Excuse me if I wasn’t in a hurry to buckle up and take off.”

Levi cocked his head to the side and ran his eyes down over me, and while I usually would’ve puffed my chest up and tried my hardest to look hot under such a once-over, something in his gaze told me this wasn’t that kind of once-over.

“It must be so hard to be you, I know.” Levi nodded and pursed his lips. “Buckling up back there with a full bar, big-screen TVs, meals worthy of five-star restaurants, and an actual bed if you want it back there. I can understand your less-than-enthusiastic demeanor when it comes to boarding.”

Okay, well, when he said it like that, I—

“Killian?”

“Huh? Yeah?”

“Get on the plane before I pull you on it by your hair.” The spark in Levi’s dark eyes almost made me want to drop my bag down the stairs just to see the firecracker in front of me go off. But then I remembered a story about a kid that held on to one of those damn rockets and got burned really fucking bad, and decided to just get on the damn plane.

That didn’t mean I was going to let him have the last say, though. If I had to sit on this plane for fourteen hours staring at Viper and Angel all kissy face and moon-eyed, I at least wanted to know that Levi was thinking about me as much as I was going to be thinking about him.

As I went to brush by Levi, I took a deep inhale and my cock twitched at the intoxicating scent that always accompanied him wherever he went. I had no idea what it was. The name, the brand… Who the hell cared? All I knew was that on Levi it smelled decadent and expensive, like silk sheets and sex, and I wanted to roll around with him naked until our bodies smelled exactly the same.

Unable to help myself, I lowered my head a fraction until my mouth was by his ear and said, “So you’re a hair puller, huh?” Levi’s head whipped in my direction, and when his eyes flew to my hair, I chuckled. “Good to know. I’ll be sure to always leave you a few inches.”

Two

Levi

KILLIAN MICHAELS IS going to be the death of me. That was my only thought as the sexy rocker walked through the curtains to the passenger section of the plane and left me standing at the open door in danger of passing out and falling down the damn stairs.

It wasn’t often that I met someone who had the ability to constantly throw me off my game. But ever since our first meeting, I’d had a difficult time drawing a professional line and staying on the right side of it. The right side of it not being me straddling Killian’s lap, which would be my preferred seat for the trip.

It was such a shame, really, because the things I could, and would, do to that body if he was any other person on the planet made it close to impossible to be near him and not have some kind of physical reaction. But he wasn’t any other person, was he? He was the bassist from the most successful rock band in the world. The same rock band I managed and looked after, and whose contract, unfortunately, did not include the words keep said bassist satisfied in bed in any way he demands.

“Everyone on board?” Susie, the flight attendant, asked.

I nodded. “Mind if I grab a drink before we take off?

“I can get it for you—”

“No need,” I said, moving past her to grab a glass as she began to get the cabin ready for departure. I didn’t need Killian to see he’d driven me to drink, so after I poured a finger of scotch, I downed it right by the closed cockpit door.

“Want me to bring you another?” she asked, but I shook my head and made my way through the curtains into the cabin. Slade and Jagger took up opposing seats to the left, already deep into a card game, while Halo and Viper had snagged their spots in the back.

That left Killian, who glanced up at me, raised an eyebrow, and then resumed staring out the window.

Spot in the front it is. I settled into the cushy seat and buckled in before raising the window shade. It definitely wasn’t the smoggy view of Los Angeles that had Killian so captivated, but rather a way to ignore me, I imagined. We’d been playing that game now for months. Six months, to be exact.

I closed my eyes, thinking back to that night on the rooftop in Atlanta. Killian had pulled me away from the party, and my first thought had been that one of his bandmates was in trouble—specifically Viper, who couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut if you paid him.

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