The lady in Red (REWRITTEN!)

Chapter 8

"Catherine," Reece calls out but his voice is minimally low over the sound of air pressure changing around us. My ears pop and it's so painful my body jerks in the seat. The plane dips and it's then I realize the captain is trying to avoid the dark clouds as much as he can. I can't hear it over the loud sound inside the plane but I can see lightning strike every thirty seconds.

"I'm feeling sick," I whine, gripping the edge of the seat.

"Look at me," he commands, his voice thick. I do as he says but it's a struggle.

"What are you afraid of?" His question throws me off guard and I have to think about the right answer for a moment. This allows me to be a little distracted and I welcome the intrusion. For a moment, I forget about the black clouds around us.

"I'm afraid of feeling things I don't want to feel," I say, in all honesty.

"What is it that you feel right now?"

"I'm afraid of..." I bite my lip. I can't conjure up the strength to say what I want to but in all honestly, I can't find the right thing to say. There are so many things I feel right now that it's hard to just pick one. Ironically, I'm starting to feel a lot of things all at once but this is enough to be hyperventilating.

I have no idea what to say. But I conjure up the strength to say the first thing that pops up in my head. The word glides out of my mouth like smooth butter.

"Sensations." The plane stops bouncing. The grey clouds start to disappear. The air pressure sound dissipates. My ears stop hurting. My stomach stops churning and my throat relaxes. Sensations—all at once, effective immediately. I'm driven by impulse when I'm at my lowest point and then after that, I can't seem to think straight.

"There's nothing wrong to feel." 

"Certain things are mind-boggling and unwanted, and scary," I answer, squeezing my thighs together. His eyes rake over my thighs.

"Motion sickness?" the corner of his lips lift.

"More."

"Don't hold back, Catherine."

"Easy for you to say," I accuse, boldly. Reece spreads his knees and leans forward, folding his hands together in front of him.

"Then enlighten me."

"Mr. Dean, some things are meant to remain a secret."

"Nothing should be kept a secret between us." Oh, God.

"Have you ever felt anything you...didn't want to feel?" I ask, curving around the ball to defuse the tension coiling inside of me. Why are we talking about this of all things? Was I really feeling the urgency of wanting to be touched despite my rational fear this whole time?

"I feel exactly what I want to and choose to feel. Nothing with me is unwanted, Catherine." I purse my lips tightly. I stand to walk away from him but get nowhere. Reece grabs my hand and in one hard pull, I'm on his lap. He pulls on my legs until I'm left cradling him in a very uncompromising position. Startled, my chest heaves in and out and tremors wreck my body in full blast. I try to stand but his grip on me tightens and I try extremely hard not to slip out a moan. His nails dig into me, forcing me to let go and I let go. The power to do anything has left my will and I'm left completely at his mercy. I whimper.

"Let go of me, Mr. Dean," I protest, but other than that make no move to stand. He makes no move of letting me go.

"No secrets, and no hiding. Do not hide from me." His fingers dig into me, possessively and I shift against him. His eyes challenge me to speak up against him but I refrain from doing so, welcoming his intrusion. I let out a sigh.

"I'm not hiding. I'm just suppressing my feelings and what I feel is my business--." I don't know how I've become this bold all of a sudden but when his eyes spark dangerously—I shut up. His pupils dilate and the ash grey in his eyes turns into a dangerous shade of dark clouds, just like the ones outside. The way he looks at me, it's sin, pure sin. I shift against him, wanting to be so far away from him but he refuses to let me go. His patient wears thin around me and his jaw tightens.

"Talk or you're fired."

"Mr. Dean," I gasp. This is not fair. How do I get out of this?

"Talk."

"Please, don't," I whisper, protesting a little harder. He leans forward a little more until our breaths mingle but our lips remain from touching. His fingers reach up to grasp my earlobe and he squeezes softly. A sigh slips from my lips before I can stop myself. Insanity stole into my mind and for a moment I stop thinking. I stop feeling. I just stop everything for a moment and dwell only on him.

"No hiding from me. I warned you," he whispers into my ear. I visibly shiver. He's doing this on purpose now, provoking me. 

"Why must you do this to me?" I ask. My head falls back and I let out a sigh.

"What exactly am I doing?" he grabs the back of my neck and forces me to look at him. My eyes are glassy and I feel insane and dizzy.

"This. Touching me. You're touching me and...and..."

"And?" His fingers find my hair and he gently tugs. Dizzy. Really, really dizzy now. I fight myself, and I fight hard not to shift against him again to ease the tension that grows below me.

"Please," I mumble under my breath. The fingers in my hair tighten painfully and he tugs hard. I whimper again and I move against him, feeling myself growing wetter and wetter by the second. Can he feel it? Can he feel me?

"Let go. Feel everything I want you to feel." He wants me to fully let go? Fine. I'll fully let go. I find the strength to do so, I twist my fingers into his hair and pull his face towards me before smashing my lips against his. Lightening. Sharp and bright lightning bolts strike somewhere in the distance as he grabs my face and deepens the kiss. Lips against lips, tongue against tongue, we fight for dominance but he wins the round as he deepens the kiss. There's nowhere to go, nowhere to run, nowhere to really hide. I moan in protest as he pulls my hair back roughly, breaking the kiss.

Raw desire overtakes me, overriding all rational thoughts in my head. I kiss him again. The urge to ride him to relieve tension is strong but I fight it. I'm no longer thinking rationally. I'm no longer thinking at all. 

"You wanted me to feel this," I accuse, fighting to catch my breath. His thumb reaches my lips and my mouth parts automatically. Then, he clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

"There's a lot more I need you to feel." He pushes his thumb past my lips and I suck, voluntarily. His pupils dilate, and he lets out a sharp exhale before roughly pulling his thumb away. Slowly, sanity starts to reach my brain. I pull away from him, getting off of his lap, and falling back in my seat. 

What did I just do?

He watches me, his gaze sharp as a dagger. Sin. Pure sin.

"This isn't right," I whisper to myself, closing my eyes. Are rules really meant to be broken like this?