Bone Deep(22)

“Excited? This I’ll have to see.” She glanced out the small window of the plane and her grin disappeared. “It is dangerous having us all in one place. Joseph is scattered right now but he has many at his disposal.”

“You and your sisters are never in one place for very long. And I’m sure with all of your grand plans and machinations, it will be the same this time,” he told her brusquely.

The captain told them to buckle their seatbelts and she did. But before she could block him, Dmitry moved and sat beside her, crowding her against the window. She backed away and a part of him mourned that.

The other part vowed there’d be a day, soon, when she shifted toward him instead of away and when she did, he would know the time was right. Her hazel eyes were wide, a shadow veiling the gold, blue, and green. He wondered at that shadow but only for a second because her lips called to him.

He lowered his head. “I’m going to kiss you, Bone. Right here. Right now. You’re going to let me because you need it just as I do.”

Her eyes narrowed. She would either fight or give in. Bone didn’t say a word but the catch of her breath was enough.

Dmitry had envisioned this so many different ways—hard, soft, gentle, demanding. He’d hated himself for it, castigated himself time and time again though it was no use. In this moment everything was different. His need for her cooled enough that his emotions took over. He wanted this to be more than either of them expected.

He licked across her lush bottom lip and her flavor exploded on his tongue. Apricots. So much sweetness. He groaned, could not control the sound, and to him, he sounded a wild creature. Her lips parted and he dove in, taking advantage of the opening, taking her mouth with a stroke of his tongue.

The need he thought had cooled lashed him with fiery whips, taking over until he had her head in his hands, the soft curls of her hair wrapped around his fist. Her eyes remained wide open, and it was shock blowing her pupils and quickening her breath.

So much lay between them in that moment—pain, fear, and a certain hope that refused to be named as such. Then her lids fell and she opened to him, suckling his tongue and drawing him deeper into her.

Her hands rose and fisted in his hair and the kiss became a duel, mouths suckling, teeth gnashing, and tongues soothing. Her nails pricked his scalp, her breath became his and Dmitry knew what it was to want.

The plane was landing, falling at a measured pace from the sky, but Dmitry was lost to her. He pulled away when the plane shuddered to a stop but her lips, still tangled with his, wouldn’t release him. A stroke, a moan, hers or his Dmitry did not know, and then he was up and out of the seat.

He glanced back, afraid of what he would see on her face but equally afraid he would miss it. Her eyes were closed and her fingers traced her lips, slowly, sensually.

“Spasibo,” she said, her voice soft and wondering.

His gaze met hers then and she took him over. She’d thanked him. Unbelievable.

“Pozhalujsta,” he answered.

She sighed and the sound cascaded through him. He wanted all of her sighs, all of her moans. It was insanity but it was now his motivation.

“It won’t happen again, Asinimov.”

“Time to move,” Grant Fielding said from the front of the plane. The man had a knowing look on his face and it pissed Dmitry off. Lucky for Grant, he left the plane.

His gaze tracked back to her. “Oh, it will happen. Again and again and again, Bone.”

She shook her head and the shadow in her eyes was back. “It cannot.”

“There are words I want to hear from you. Those are not them.” He walked to her and leaned over as her body, her taste, and her scent pulled at him. “But when the time comes you will give them to me because you will have no choice. You think you have nothing to give, but you do.” He ran his nose along her cheek, licked her lower lip once more, reveling in her taste. “And I will take it all.”

Then he stood, turned and left the plane, a smile on his face, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

The sun was shining but the air held a chill. Bone was still dressed in her unitard so Dmitry knew she’d be fine. He made it to the tarmac and turned, waiting. What met his gaze stilled his heart.

She stood at the top of the stairs, face raised to the sun, long, honey-colored tresses blowing in the slight breeze. Another smile was on her face, this one so gentle it nearly took him to his knees.

Her gaze lowered and it was if she was just then realized where she stood. She stepped back inside the plane, hand at her chest for just a moment before he watched her shut down. Her face blanked though her mouth thinned into a tight line, and her nostrils flared. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again they were dead, barren of the warmth she’d just exhibited.

She took a single step to the platform, glanced neither left nor right, just straight down, and walked, stilted and measured, down the stairs. Lines bracketed her mouth and were she anyone else Dmitry would have called it fear.

But that was absurd. These women were afraid of nothing.

Once her feet touched the ground, the lines disappeared and it was then Dmitry wondered what her hell had been with Joseph. For Bullet, it had been a water pit. For Arrow, it had been the darkness.

He rejected his assumption that Bone must fear heights because she’d jumped off a five story building a day ago. People who feared heights didn’t jump off buildings.