We board the plane and take our seats. Jace is the epitome of relaxed, scrolling through his phone. I, on the other hand, am staring out the window and playing with all the gadgets around us. We have planes in Infernis, but they are rarely used. Most demons don't veer far from their Circle. I've seen mention of them in movies and imagined what it would be like flying first class. This exceeds my expectations. Or maybe it's not truly the plane that has me in awe, but the man sitting beside me.
He glances up from his phone and smiles at me. "Are you all right? Do you need anything before we take off?"
I chew the inside of my cheek and pretend like I wasn't just thinking about how phenomenal he is. "No. I'm just a little scared is all. I have no idea what to expect here, and I don't exactly love heights." I wring my hands in my lap and lay my head back against the headrest, letting my eyelids flutter closed.
Warm fingers slink beneath mine and curl around my thigh. I crack my eyes open and watch as Jace's thumb rubs calming strokes against the outside of my leg. The gesture is innocent, but my body doesn't see it that way. Its response is far beyond receiving comfort from a friend. I have to fight the urge to inch my thighs apart and feel him touch me more intimately.
"As soon as we are in the air, I'll order you a drink," he says, gently squeezing my leg.
I swallow hard and nod. "O-okay," I whisper. "As long as you don't stop doing what you're doing right now, I'll be good to go." My voice is shaky and my heart beating hard against my ribcage. I could pretend it's because I'm scared of takeoff, but that's probably only twenty percent of my problem right now.
"I'm not going anywhere. Just talk to me to take your mind off the nerves and you'll be fine."
"Okay, there was one thing I wanted to tell you about the other night that I didn't get around to." I turn my head to the side and meet his eyes. "I told Cannon what I am, about Infernis, all of it."
His lips part and all I want to do is slide my tongue between them. Stop, Desi. "You did? What did he say?"
"That was the weird thing. He didn't even flinch, Jace. He was like, 'Cool, can I guess what sin you are?'"
Jace snorts. "Did he get it right?" His thumb begins moving over my leg again and I smirk.
"No. He thought I was Lust."
"I can see why he would have confused you with lust."
"Oh yeah?" I ask, raising one brow. "And why's that?"
He leans in closer to me, bringing his mouth to my ear. In a voice that sends shivers down my spine, he says, "I know that's the sin tempting me whenever I'm around you."
I turn my face toward his so our lips are inches apart. "Me too. We've barely started this trip and you've already got me wishing you'd use that blanket you were so excited about to cover our laps and really take my mind off the nerves," I murmur.
"Is that what you really want, Desideria?"
Yes. No. Maybe. We are toeing a line I thought we never would again, but I should have known better. Jace is right; when we are together, I'm consumed by lust. So much so, that a part of me wants to say fuck the blanket and guide his hand between my legs. I want him to touch me, to make me feel all the things only he can. And when I'm done losing myself to his touch, I want to return the favor. The only thing that holds me back is that small voice of reason in the back of my head. It is the same part of me that rebels against what I am; that revels in order and plays it safe. As much as I want to ignore it, that voice is vital to who I am and my self-preservation.
"It's a nice fantasy, like something I would read about in one of my steamy romances." It's the truth, but not the full truth. I gave him just enough to keep the flirtation going, but not totally give in.
He leans his head back and hums his approval. "I don't know where you're getting these books at, but I would love to skim through one some time."
"Well, it's your lucky day," I say, reaching into my purse next to me and pulling out the latest in the series I've been binging. "In fact, I just read a pretty sexy scene if you want to take a look." I open the book to where my bookmark rests, right after a particularly spicy scene where the two enemies just gave in and decided that they were done fighting and wanted to get out their aggression in a different way. Flipping back a few pages, I hand him the book. "Here ya go. Have a gander."
As the flight attendants demonstrate the safety procedures, I watch Jace. His cheeks heat and more than once he runs his palm over his brow, wiping away the perspiration gathering there. The speed with which his gray eyes move across the page is impressive, like he is devouring each word. I don't miss the way he lingers on a sentence or two before shifting in his seat. I almost feel bad for handing him the book. Almost.
Jace's expression keeps me entertained until we taxi onto the runway and the plane speeds down it. He is glued to the pages well past our ascension into the sky. It's not until the flight attendant stops at our row for our drink order that he sets the book down. On his lap. To cover the bulge pressing against his zipper.
"I'll have a rum and coke and a water, please."
"A red wine," I say, and when they leave, I turn to Jace. "Did that scene make you thirsty?"
"Among other things," he says, sliding his hand between the book and his pants and readjusting himself.
I smirk and nod down at where the book rests on his lap. "I'd say I'm sorry, but you've been teasing me since this morning, so I think you deserved it. You don't have to read anymore." I reach over to take it back from him, and my fingertips accidentally brush against his zipper, the feeling of his rock-hard cock sending an instant pool of warmth between my legs.
He flinches and makes a small pained noise. "You're going to be the death of me, Desideria."
I lean back against the seat as I shove the book back in my purse. "Not if you kill me first."
He turns his head and looks at me, all the humor gone from his face. "I would never hurt you. Ever."
I start at his intense tone and stare. Turning toward him in my seat, I place my palms on his cheeks. "I know, Jace. I was kidding. I know you wouldn't hurt me. I'd never think that."
He nods and leans into my palm before putting a little distance between us. I clear my throat as a thought occurs to me. "Oh, shit, there was the other really weird thing I wanted to tell you about Cannon. When I told him I didn't feel anything romantic for him, it was pretty clear that he was on the same page, but then...here's the strange part: he said he'd go with me to Infernis anyway. That he was 'honored to be my backup plan.' That's weird. Isn't it?"
Jace remains silent, and I can practically see his brain working through what I just told him. The amount of time he takes to answer my question tells me it is peculiar. Who wants to come in second place? Everyone strives to be the best and when they come up a little short, they are grateful for second place because it shows that they worked hard and never gave up. But in a relationship, especially one that lasts for an eternity, who wants to be second best?
Jace tips his head side to side and says, "It's weird and it isn't. You know he is motivated on a professional level. What you bring to the table is the ultimate type of power. And you're fucking gorgeous, so coming in second as your arm candy is a pretty sweet deal in itself."
I consider this and purse my lips. "True. I mean, about the power thing. He once told me he wanted to be king of the world one day. And he said it with a straight face. He was totally serious. As far as me being gorgeous..." I lift one shoulder. "That's subjective."
"Playing coy about your beauty isn't a good look on you. I can't even blame it on you being from a different realm. Even in Infernis, you were the most breathtaking being I saw."
My cheeks burn and I say, "Thank you. I accept your compliment, but I still maintain that beauty is subjective. Not everyone in the world would find me attractive." My eyes trail up and down his body as I take a sip of the red wine the flight attendant had brought at some point during this conversation. "You, on the other hand, were sculpted by the gods themselves."
"What is it that you find a turn on, my graphic t-shirts or my preference for pants that I don't have to button? Or is it the Clark Kent glasses that turn you on? You said it yourself: beauty is subjective. If you refuse to acknowledge you're gorgeous then so do I."
"You always get so testy when I don't agree with you."
He glances at me and fights back a smile. "Just when it comes to this one thing. Oh, and how to put dishes away."
I roll my eyes. "Why is that?"
"Because the cups—"
"No. I know your reasons for that. Why do you get upset when I refuse to agree with you about my looks?"
He releases a deep breath and sinks against his seat. "Hannah. She knew she was beautiful, and I told her all the time, but she never truly accepted the compliment. But then she fished for the compliment as well. It was a damned if you do, damned if you don't kind of situation. We spent too much time in our relationship talking about the way she looked. If she would have just acknowledged the truth, telling her that she was beautiful wouldn't have started to feel like a chore. A simple thank you without the snide remarks would have made me love telling her how stunning she was every day. Instead, I felt like my opinion was disregarded and I shut down when it came to complimenting her. Looking back, it should have been my first clue that we were never going to be endgame."
I chew on my bottom lip and heat blooms on my chest and creeps up my neck. "All right, I'll be honest. I don't think I'm not pretty or anything, but when I was growing up, I was always taught to be so modest because I was a princess. Mom and Dad never wanted anyone to accuse me of being conceited. I was the only girl, and that meant everyone in Infernis was watching me closely already. So, I've always been really careful about sounding arrogant. That's why it's hard for me sometimes to just agree with you out loud. But inside, it makes me so happy when you tell me I'm beautiful. And I do—I do believe you, Jace. I believe you more than anyone else," I whisper.
"Good. Then play the humble princess for your subjects but be real with me. Nothing is more attractive than owning who and what you are. You are beautiful, Desideria. And in my very correct opinion, I've never met someone who compares to you."
Suddenly, the air in the cabin is not enough and I can't breathe. "I have to go to the bathroom," I blurt, unbuckling my seatbelt and gesturing toward the aisle. "Is that—is that allowed? Can I go?"
"Yes." He points to the sign at the front of the plane and moves out of my way.
I crawl over him and nearly trip getting out of the row, but I practically run to the front of the plane and dive into the bathroom, flinging myself down onto the toilet and threading my fingers through my hair.
I have to get control of myself.
I'm this close to giving in and letting Jace in, even though I know it'll end in nothing but heartache. But honestly, why shouldn't I? I'm not deluding myself into believing that I am going to find anyone else to take with me to Infernis. I know I'm going to end up taking Cannon or going back by myself and asking one of my friends from school to rule next to me. I'm not going to meet someone else and fall in love in the next three weeks. It isn't going to happen.
If Jace wants to tell me I'm beautiful and put his hands on me, why shouldn't I let him? I stand and look in the mirror, taking a deep breath and fixing my curls. I stand straight and square my shoulders. I am a princess, damnit. I may be a princess of sloth, but I am still a princess. I'm going to go back to my seat, make the whole world believe that Jace Wilder is my boyfriend, and we are the happiest couple on this plane, and soon, New York City. And if he wants to go the extra mile to convince people, then by God, that's what we will do.
I wash my hands and leave the lavatory, flashing him a bright smile as I return and take my seat, squeezing his shoulder as I pass. "Sorry about that. I felt like I was going to be sick for a second. I'm good now."
Jace follows my every movement like he is looking for a hole in my story. I wonder if he sat here contemplating if he did something wrong. My exit was hasty and lacked in reason. If I were in his position, I'd have thought I did something to cause him to rush off.
"Do you want me to call the flight attendant?" he asks like he's talking to a skittish animal. He definitely feels like he did something wrong.
"No. I just needed to splash some water on my face. I felt lightheaded after the take off and the wine. Honestly." I turn in my seat after buckling back up and slide my hand onto the inside of his thigh and squeeze. "I'm perfect now."
He laces his fingers with mine and flashes me a timid smile, but the words he speaks are sincere. "Good. I want you to have the time of your life on this trip, and when you think back on your time here, I want you to remember the next few days."
I rub my thumb across his knuckles. "I know I will. And I have to admit—I want you to have the best time you've ever had with me over the next few days. Like, not just with me. But ever. Before I go, I want to know that I gave you the best days of your life." My voice cracks and I clear my throat, trying to hide the emotion in it, but I know I fail.
He leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. "You are here with me for one of the most exciting moments of my life. I have a feeling it won't be hard to make these the best days."
I lay my head on his shoulder and we spend the rest of the flight in comfortable silence.