Page 90 of A Pawn in the Game
“Just a quick in and out. We have a plane waiting for us.”
“Ok.”
I watch him pick the lock of my apartment, extremely aware that he didn’t need instructions to get to my building or to my apartment. I guess it makes sense, considering I fell in love with my stalker. The place is dark, but it’s obvious she’s been using it. Her jackets hang in my hallway, her shoes lining the floor.
I miss her.
“We need to be inconspicuous. Just in case someone comes looking.”
I bow my head, crumpling the flyer in my hand and throwing it carelessly onto the living room side table.
Luka glances at me with pride. “Smart. You’d be a great criminal, you know.”
“I guess I am one now.” I wink.
CHAPTER 43
Sophie
We’re driving for about twenty minutes when Luka makes a sudden left turn on a dirt road in the middle of an empty field. The poor sedan jumps and rattles before we reach a metal airplane hangar. It’s lit with bright fluorescents, but Luka steers the car to the back, parking in the darkness. Once again, he circles the car to open the door for me. My hand feels small in his as he takes our stuff, including both dogs, and brings us to the front of the hangar.
I’m blinded by the lights, but I still spot the centerpiece of the space, a small, yet terrifying Cessna. My legs freeze in place, my heart rate picking up again.
“Wh…” he starts to say when he notices I stopped, but one look at my face is enough for him to realize. I was still in shock when he mentioned the private jet, and didn’t realize we would actually fly to our destination. “You’re afraid of flying?”
“Sort of.” I shoot him an awkward smile. He’s this invincible, fearless guy. And I’m a girl riddled with anxiety.
“That just means I’ll have to work extra hard to distract you.” He winks, and my heart races for a different reason.
Alan barks, hurrying me along, so I follow up the stairsand right into the fragile-looking metal box. The inside screams luxury, with cream leather sofas and mahogany accents.
“Welcome to Sky Lounge! I’m Kyle, and I’ll be your flight attendant tonight.” A guy in his early twenties jumps out in front of us, dressed in a messy-looking dress shirt. His gaze drops to where mine is, and he quickly adds, “Sorry for my appearance. It was a last-minute call.”
“The pilot?” Luka grunts.
“In his place and ready. We just got the clearance so we can take off as soon as you get settled.”
The dogs both jump on him, demanding attention. He gives them a couple of scratches before directing us to our seats.
Luka drops the bags to one sofa and pulls me to sit right next to him on the other. “I just need you to be a good girl for the take-off. I’ll handle the rest.” He buckles me into my seat and leaves for the cockpit.
My mind is swirling with both anxiety and anticipation, and it’s hard for me to form a coherent thought. I read in an article that nearly seventy plane crashes happen every single year. The number of total flights is massively larger, but seventy is still a lot. Alan places his head on my lap, and immediately, my shoulders relax.
“I missed you so fucking much.” I massage his neck the way he likes it.
As soon as Luka gets back to his seat and buckles his seatbelt, the plane moves. I inhale sharply, the scent of the leather penetrating my nostrils, and Luka’s hand lands on mine.
“Remember what I said. Just get through the takeoff.”
The flight attendant’s voice booms over the intercom, but I’m too distracted to register what he’s saying. The place where Luka’s skin connects to mine is burning, and the fire is spreading all over my flesh. My nipples tingle and my core pulses, expecting what comes next.
The seatbelt sign shuts off, and I exhale a relieved breath. The click of the seatbelt makes me realize that Luka already unbuckledboth of us. Standing up, he reaches his hand out to me, and I follow.
He leads me to the back of the plane, to the bedroom divided by a wooden partition. The mere fact that there is a bedroom on a plane is extravagant, but this one is even more fascinating. Massive bed with what looks like silk sheets. Dark furniture with random hooks in every corner. There’s even an unfamiliar contraption hanging from the ceiling, one with leather straps and metal chains.
“Is this…another sex dungeon?” I ask, stumped by the room.
Luka lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, I guess so. Charles, the owner, also owns a franchise of sex clubs. And he obviously likes to keep things on hand.” He approaches the wall hooks with different tools on it. Crops, whips, paddles. He takes a leather paddle, testing it out on his hand. I suck in a breath. “I guess my task of distracting you just got a whole lot easier.” He smirks.
