Wasted Love with You (Wasted Love 1)

“Because my well-being actually matters to you?”

“If only you knew how much.”

Silence.

I look to my left—where the flight attendant should be making my vodka—and notice she’s not there.

The cockpit is empty, too.

“I’ll think about things in the air,” I say, my voice soft. “I think we should move before the other passengers come aboard.”

“They’ve all elected to take a later flight,” he says. “Someone offered to pay them triple for their tickets. He offered to pay for yours, as well.”

“Did you pay off the pilot and flight attendant, too?”

“I suggested that they take a long bathroom break.”

“I didn’t get that memo.”

“I’m giving it to you now.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “You have a job to finish for me, and we can’t continue to work together if you insist on being this defiant.”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t work together at all,” I say, trying to control the conversation. “I’ve heard that you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure anyway.”

“I haven’t fucked you yet,” he says. “And the only people who believe that lie are incapable of multi-tasking.”

“At least they know something about each other that makes the risk worth it…”

His lips curve into a smile. “I mastered the violin at age fourteen, the bass at sixteen, and the cello at eighteen,” he says. “I composed various pieces under a ‘Ry Thales’ pen name, and I was invited to play at Carnegie Hall several times. Is that ‘something’ enough?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of whether you’re a part of the mafia or the mob.” My words hang in the air for several seconds. “Which one is it?”

“My parents couldn’t afford to send me to Manhattan, so I never had the chance to play in front of that particular crowd.”

“Mafia or the mob, Ryder…”

“It’s one of my only regrets in life,” he says. “I really wanted to play on that stage.”

I glare at him. “I wasn’t born yesterday, and I don’t care how you feel about questions anymore, because I refuse to keep running around in circles and playing your mind games, so if you won’t—”

“It’s the latter.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says. “The latter.”

I stare at him, stunned that he’s given me an answer. That the past few weeks—the Uber drivers, the warnings, the bloodstains—all make perfect sense with his admission.

“Between you and me, the people in this city seem to think it’s the former.” He pauses. “They also seem to think both things are the same. They’re not.”

“The latter is far worse than the former.”

“Exactly.” He tilts my chin up with his fingertips. “Is that a problem for you?”

“It should be.”

“But is it?”

I can’t get the word “No” to fall from my lips. All I can do is shake my head.

“Good.” He brushes his thumb against my cheek. “We’ll resume this conversation—and your job—after I punish you.”

“What?”

“It’s not fair to anyone else on my staff if I let you get away with this evening’s blatant disrespect of my time. Don’t you agree?”

“No.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Not at all.”

“If you were in my position, I think you’d feel the same,” he says, sliding a hand down to my neck. “After all, as of now, you’ve cost me two hours, and I have to make sure you know better than to ever do this again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Rather, I need to do something, so you’ll never second guess me on another job or worry about the things I ask you to carry.”

Before I can process what the hell he’s talking about, he presses his lips against mine.

His kiss instantly obliterates every thought, every worry, and I lose all my senses under his control.

As I shut my eyes, he grabs my right hand and lifts it up, placing it on the edge of the overhead bin.

“Don’t let go of this,” he whispers against my mouth. “Do you understand me?”

I don’t answer. I’m too overwhelmed by the feel of his tongue taming mine, too turned on by the hand he’s sliding under my dress.

“Ahhh…” I suck in a breath as his cock hardens against my thigh.

Pushing my soaking wet panties to the side, he whispers his command again, “Do I need to repeat myself, Autumn?”

“No…” I flex my wrist to confirm I understand, and he kisses me even harder.

His mouth dominates mine for what feels like forever, making me want to remain here in this moment for life, but then he abruptly tears away from me.

Without explanation, he moves his kisses to my neck. Then across my collarbone.

Slowly unzipping the front of my dress, he trails his mouth between my breasts.

My toes curl as he flicks his tongue against my nipples, as he leaves them hard and bereft.

“You’re lucky I don’t own this goddamn plane…” he whispers, moving past my stomach, getting down on his knees.

Pressing his thumb against my clit, he slides two fingers deep inside me, forcing me to moan even louder.