Burn (Songs of Submission #5)(38)

I bit my lip. “But cloth doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Put it on the maybe list.”

I flipped pages until I found the maybe list and put gag with cloth at the bottom of the page. Jonathan looked at his watch. “We’ve been at this two hours.”

I craned my neck to look at the clock. “Wow.”

“You’re very thorough. But we can continue this on the plane.” He said it as if he was ready to go, but his hand slipped under my robe.

“Jonathan, what are you doing?”

“Adding something to the list.” He undid the robe’s belt. “Spread your legs. If I told you this in words, you’d say no. I want to show it to you.”

“What is it?”

“Knees up. Open all the way. You have to trust me.” His fingers reached between my legs, finding my cleft wet from the sex talk and stolen kisses. Gathering moisture from my hole, he ran his fingers to my clit, two fingers circling it.

“This goes on the yes list.” I arched my back.

His hand came off me and back down with a solid slap. I cried out at the deep sting of pain, gasping. But like a firework shooting into the sky with a hard streak, the explosion afterward lit up the sky.

“Do it again,” I groaned. He did, and again the pain was followed by its sister, pleasure. I’d slid all the way down and was fully supine, head in his lap.

“So this goes on the yes list?”

“Yes. Again, please.”

“You’re insatiable.” He cupped my chin and kissed me. “Later. We have to go.”

“Jonathan?” I closed my legs and shifted to look him in the eyes.

“Monica.”

“Did you have anything to do with Kevin getting arrested?”

“I’m sorry?”

“He’s traveled before, so it was weird he suddenly got on a watch list. And then for him to get picked up now? Those warrants have been out forever.”

“It had to happen sometime.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But did you have anything to do with it happening now?”

He stroked my bottom lip pensively. “No.”

CHAPTER 32.

JONATHAN

I gave Jacques and Petra the cockpit-door-closed order, which they were more than used to, and I had Monica twice on the plane. The first time, I had her in a seat like a normal person. The next time, on the galley counter because I could.

We didn’t get much further on the list, but we’d made such good progress already that I wasn’t concerned about it. Her commitment opened her up to communication about what we were doing in a way that hadn’t existed before. She was thoughtful and full of questions. Part of me wished we’d done it sooner, and another part was glad it had taken time.

I let her have the window as we circled Los Angeles over the miasma of smog. She leaned against me. I had my arm around her and pulled her as close as as the seat belts allowed, putting my nose in her hair.

“Last night,” I said, “I told you I loved your filthy mouth.”

She turned to me. “Yes?”

“I lied.”

“Really? Should I say ‘have intercourse with me’ when I want it?”

“No. God no. What I meant was, I love your filthy mouth. And I love your mouth when it sings and jokes. I love your body, and everything it does to me. I love when you come, when you squirm under me, begging for it. I love your hands, and your eyes. I love your honor and integrity. I love your loyalty, your intelligence. I love your honesty, even when it hurts me. I’ve fallen in love with you, Monica. I didn’t think it would happen to me again, but it did. Thank you.”

She stared at me, big brown eyes wide, mouth parted just a little. I didn’t think I’d scared her but shocked her. If I’d used three words to say the same thing, I might not have faced the same silence, but those three words would have been inadequate.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

I laughed.

The intercom buzzed as Santa Monica Airport came into sight. “Sir?” came Jacques’s voice. “Can you come up front?”

I kissed those parted lips and unbuckled. “Give me a sec.”

“Way to kill a moment, Drazen.”

I kissed her again, half standing. She put her hands on my neck so I couldn’t get away and kept them there until I took her wrists and pulled them down. I walked backward to the cockpit door and opened it.

“Yes, Jacques?”

He pulled off his headphones. “Sir, I just got a call. The LAPD is waiting on the runway.”

CHAPTER 33.

MONICA

When he got back, his contented expression had changed to something more pensive and tense. He sat and buckled without looking at me. When I took his hand, he clasped back as if making a perfunctory gesture.

“What?” I asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Jonathan. Don’t shut me out.”

He held my hand tight as the plane dropped down to land. “I get sued all the time. It’s not even anything. I have lots of things people want. So they come after me.” He looked at me finally. “I’m used to it, and I’ve learned to manage it. So I’m not worried about anything. But you… I’m worried about what you’ll think.”