“Did I actually find her on my own? Or did you have a hand in it?” I’d put some feelers out trying to find someone. Before I knew it, she all but dropped into my lap.
“Don’t fire her. She’s good.”
“I’m not. I actually really like her.” He reaches over, brushing a piece of my hair out of my face and behind my ear. I lean into his touch. It feels so natural to do it.
“There is nothing wrong with people helping out. That’s what friends are for. I want to make this better. We can’t keep going on like this. Where is it getting any of us? All it’s doing is making us all fucking miserable.”
I know he’s right, but my own bullshit gets in my way. “I want to get him walking. I’ll agree to anything for that to happen.”
“Anything?” He smirks, his brows lifting. I know he’s only teasing, but my body starts to warm thinking about all the things Cane would do to me if given the chance.
“I think you’re a lot of talk, Cane. I know you’re handsome, but I’m wondering if you really have any experience.” The thought of him having been with someone isn’t a pleasant one. “You Justice men tend to run from the opposite sex.”
“Only one way to find out.” His eyes drop to my mouth. I pretend it’s the champagne that has me leaning toward him. My eyes fall closed when Cane’s mouth brushes against mine.
“Announcing Princess Maria Costatelli, soon to be Mrs. Sterling Justice aboard the Bombardier.” I jerk back from Cane, my eyes flying open. He lets out a string of curses.
“Sterling.” Maria giggles, looking every inch of an elegant princess. How the hell did Sterling pull that one off? The way she’s staring at him proves that he clearly did.
“This one only has a small bedroom. Calder snuck off in the middle of the night with the Boeing. Bastard.” Sterling shakes his head.
“Will you hush. It’s an hour flight.” Maria gives me a bright smile when she sees me. I’ve met her a few times. She’s sweet as can be. I would never have known she was a princess if not for Sterling.
“You know the things I can do to you in an hour? Cane is going to try to claim the bedroom because of seniority.” Maria lets out a gasp, smacking Sterling in the chest.
“They can hear you.” She tries to glare at him, but even her glare is elegant.
“He’s right about that.” Cane pops up from his chair. “Buckle up. We’re taking off,” he tells them.
The next thing I know, he is plucking me out of my seat. “Cane, what the hell are you doing?”
“Using my seniority.” He smirks, carrying me toward the back of the plane.
“You need to buckle up too.” The flight attendant steps out in front of us, trying to stop us.
“Don’t worry. I’ll hang on to my cowboy.” A deep sexy growl comes from Cane. The sound makes my nipples harden.
Damn that champagne.
At least that’s what I’m going with.
CHAPTER 7
CANE
Astor doesn’t voice a word of protest when I set her down on the bed. Instead, she smooths a hand over the silk comforter. “Nice. All the comforts of home.”
“All of them,” I agree, pulling off her shoes.
“Sir, you really do need to be fastened in before take-off.”
I look up to see the flight attendant wringing her hands together. “I gotchu.” I nod toward the two captain’s chairs opposite the bed. “We’ll be in those in five.”
“Thank you.” She hesitates as if she can’t trust us, so I lift Astor up again and place her in the chair.
“Buckle up, baby,” I tell her as I take my own seat.
Her cheeks are a little red as she fumbles with the fasteners, I’m not sure whether it’s because I called her baby or the flight attendant appears overly curious.
I help her with the buckle and wink. “What position do you want to try first?”
“Cane Benjamin Justice, you did not just ask me—” She cuts herself off. “You know what, let me read my book.” She pulls out her phone and starts flicking through apps.
I fold my hands behind my head and cross my ankles. “For me, I’ve imagined us enjoying every position, so I can’t say that there’s one that I want to start with or end with. I want us to do them all.”
“Cane, please…”
I roll my head along my hands to peep at Astor’s pretty pink face. “Yes?”
She drops the phone to her lap and uses her dark brown locks to curtain her expression. “Don’t say things like that,” she croaks out.
“Why? Because they fuel your imagination? Because you’re starting to think of us on that bed over there and it’s making you hot and sticky? Because there’s an ache in your body that never goes away when you think of me?” I reach out and touch her knee. “That’s how it feels for me. Every time I see you in town or drive by your place or hear your name—or even, hell, think I hear your name—I start aching down low. I go home and work hard, sweating buckets until all those thoughts are driven out, but, at night, when there’s nothing but dark skies, endless land, and the soft sounds of the cattle, need creeps over me. I spend those long hours in bed restless with want for you.”