Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(128)

She stretched and reached back to braid the long thick hair, needing to get it out of her face. She pulled on her soft, vintage jeans, her favorite pair, the ones Trap had bought her that fit like a glove. It felt good to become her again. She loved the dress and even the one dance she’d had with Trap, but she much preferred the swamp and their enormous, ridiculous home.


She pulled a T-shirt over her head, going without a bra. She much preferred to be naked, but that wouldn’t do until they got home. In the meantime, she was going for comfortable. She would put her shoes on later – much later – after the flight. Right now, she wanted to sleep. To get her mind as far as possible from Violet and the things she’d admitted.


Cayenne began to make her way back to her seat where Trap waited. The plane hit turbulence, shifting in the air. Bumping. Her heart jumped. She wasn’t used to flying, and it was a little frightening to have the airplane, so high in the sky, jolting like it might go down any moment.


The next lurch sent her sprawling forward. Malichai caught her, grinning at her with his devilish smirk. “Falling into my arms again, woman? I know you find me pretty, but seriously, Cai, I’m not for sale.” He winked at her, his white teeth flashing even as his hands steadied her.


“You’re breaking my heart.”


He didn’t let her go and when the next bump came, it flung her forward so that she fell almost in his lap. He pulled her into his lap, holding her steady while the plane dipped and shuddered.


“You aren’t afraid, are you?” He kept his voice low.


She was grateful for the consideration, even though everyone on the plane had acute hearing and probably, now, all of them were aware her heart pounded like crazy. She swallowed hard and glanced across the plane where Trap sat. His eyes were on her, all that ice making her shiver. Glacier-cold. But beneath the ice she saw that blue flame, the one that burned so cold it was hot. He looked – furious.


“I’m a little afraid. I don’t like flying,” she admitted. She pushed out of his lap and stood in the wide aisle, holding on to the back of his chair. “I just want this over.”


She made her way to Trap, hanging on to each of the chairs as she went. When she neared him, his hand snaked out, settled around her wrist, and he all but yanked her into her seat.


Cai? Since when does he call you Cai?


She frowned at him and subtly moved her wrist in the hopes that he’d release her. He didn’t. He doesn’t call me that. At least he never has before.


She closed her eyes, determined to ignore his foul temper. She was tired. Exhausted. Sick to her stomach thanks to the turbulence and he wasn’t helping. She didn’t like the city any more than he did. More, she didn’t like being in public at all. She was trying to be friendly to his team members because they were his friends. She stopped trying to take her hand back and forced herself to relax.


You aren’t wearing a bra. You like rubbing your breasts all over him?


What are you talking about? Trap, it seemed, was spoiling for a fight. She was too exhausted to rise to the bait, so she pressed her lips together and kept her eyes closed.


“Hey, Cayenne.” Malichai made his way up the aisle to drop into the seat opposite her, next to his brother Mordichai. “Can you tie just anyone up with that silk of yours?”


Her heart jumped. She opened her eyes and regarded his teasing grin. It was open. Friendly. Genuinely interested, but more, something she couldn’t quite read at first – a kind of camaraderie – because she’d never had it directed at her before. The others moved closer as well, changing seats until the attention was directly on her. She hated that. She glanced up at Trap for some direction, but he gave her none, staring impassively straight ahead.


What did women do when they found themselves the complete center of attention? These men worked with Trap. They were his friends. She wanted to fit in, to become part of their team. She knew it was important they accept her. Still, her silks were private. A part of her she didn’t reveal ever to others if she could help it. She didn’t see the silk as a weapon. It was her art. The beautiful part of her existence when she was alone in her cell. Her silk kept her safe.


More, it had been the silk her tormenters had tried to rip from her by force. The pain had been excruciating. Trap’s teammates couldn’t know that and she didn’t want to enlighten them, so she said nothing.


“Leave her alone,” Trap said unexpectedly, coming to her rescue.


The relief was tremendous, but when she looked up at his face, his sculpted masculine features were completely devoid of feeling.


“I’m with Malichai,” Draden said. “I’d like to see what you can do. You managed to get the drop on Trap once. Have you done it again?”


“Maybe tied him up a time or two?” Malichai suggested, with a teasing leer.


She tried to control the blush moving up her body into her neck. She squirmed, forcing down the memory of her mouth and hands on Trap’s body for the first time.


“Could you tie me up?” Malichai persisted. “I think I’d like that.”


The men burst out laughing, and several had comments to make ribbing Malichai about needing a dominatrix in his life.