Sinful Hands (Chained Hearts Duet 3)

“Yes. Do you not want to go?”

She shakes her head and smiles, and it’s a real smile, that I know for sure. “I really want to go. But tell me, does this come with a price?”

“Have you heard of the Mile High Club?” She goes to open her mouth and I put up a finger. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

“I had this one guy…well, let’s just say he was a stalker and tried to throw money at me to leave with him,” she says as she heads to the tarmac. My back straightens at her words. “I had to put a restraining order on him, and even then, he still found out where I lived and sent me things.”

We reach the private plane that’s owned by Keir and me. At the plane’s entryway, I watch as she takes in everything. She walks over to the bar area and inspects it. “You’ve gone quiet,” she says. “Is it something I said?”

“Why was he a stalker?” I ask. “Maybe he just wanted you and you gave off the wrong impression.”

“He paid me to fuck him, Lucas, not to be in a relationship with him. There is a difference.”

“Do I need to pay you now?” I ask, stepping closer. “Now that I’ve fucked you?”

“I didn’t let you fuck me because of money.” Her voice is quiet. “This is a bad idea. I’m leaving.” She turns and heads for the door, but I capture her arm and pull her back to me so her front slams into mine. She places both hands on my chest and sucks in a breath.

“Stay. I’ve been once, as a kid. It will be good to go again.”

“You’ll hate it,” she states, not pulling away, with her hands still on my chest.

“Probably as much as I hate you,” I whisper back. She pulls a small smile as the pilot tells us to take our seats.

Chanel sits and buckles up right across from me. “This is awfully nice of you.” She looks around. “I’ve never been on a plane before.”

Then she stares out the window the whole flight.

They say money can’t buy happiness.

I would say, “Have you taken your girl to Disneyworld before?” Because the way she stopped and stared at the castle when we walked in, you would think it was her one and only happy place. Chanel has pulled me to every ride she can get on. We don’t have to wait in lines as, well, I know people, and if they know what’s good for them they won’t make me wait, and by the afternoon we’ve done almost all of the Magic Kingdom.

“I need one.” She buys two and hands me one. She is comfortable around me which I think she hates. “You have to eat it, I’ve heard it’s a must.” She bites into her Mickey ice cream and sits on the sidewalk.

I sit next to her, and she turns to me as I take a bite from Mickey’s ear—the poor bastard.

“When I was five, before Mom had Brody, she would tell me about this place. That she would take me one day,” she gushes. “Of course, it never happened. We never had the money. But I knew one day I would come here. I didn’t think you would be here with me, though.” She looks me up and down. “You’ve been a good sport.”

“It’s only because I want to fuck you on the way back,” I tell her, and she chuckles at my words.

“You could have just bought me a bottle of tequila for that.”

“Well, fuck.”

“Lucas,” she says, after a moment of silence. Her next words are a whisper. “Do you plan to kill me when you no longer want me?”

My first reaction is to tell her no, but I can’t lie to her. So I stand, pull her up with me, and nod to the shop. “How about a little trinket before we leave?”

“You didn’t answer me, Lucas.”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to, Chanel,” I say and walk off.

18

Chanel

Lucas bought me a diamond necklace, and when I saw the price tag, I walked out. So did he, but not until after he purchased it for me.

Dammit! I don’t want to be bought—that isn’t what this thing between us is.

“I can’t accept that,” I say, nodding to the piece of jewelry he holds out in front of him as we sit opposite of each other on the plane.

“You can, and you will. It doesn’t suit me.”

“Is this your form of payment?” I ask.

“No, it’s a gift. So fucking take it and stop making it out to be like I would pay you to fuck me when we both know I don’t need to.”

He’s right, he doesn’t need to.

I turn my face away from him anyway.

But then his fingers touch my face, and he turns me toward him. He wipes a stray tear I didn’t even know had leaked and then lowers to his knees. His hand leaves my face and drops down until it reaches between my breasts, then to my skirt. When he gets to the edge of the fabric, he lifts it up until he can see my lace undies.