His Resolution – Kisses at Midnight

With that, he turns and retreats to the back of the plane through a closed door, leaving my head spinning. As soon as he’s gone, I find the blue pack of pills, toss two into my mouth as Melany instructed and swallow hard.

A few minutes later I hear the door open and turn to see his massive form coming back through the plane, three attendants close on his heels with trays of food which they set on the table in front of us as Damon returns to his place next to me. Only this time, he doesn’t even leave an inch between us.

“I said I’m not—”

He doesn’t wait, bringing a bite of some luscious shrimp delicacy to my lips. “Open.” He orders, and as much as I know I shouldn’t, I cave.

There’s a warm care in that single word, and the hardness that has cloaked him since I got in the car instantly melts away. It’s the first bite of food I’ve had in over twenty-four hours, and I moan in pleasure.

For the next ten minutes, I take bite after bite of the deliciousness until I hold my hand up in protest.

“No more. Really. I have a tendency to get air sick…I don’t want to…” I shrug, raising one eyebrow, and finally he smiles that smile that ruined me in the ballroom that night.

“Fine.” He takes a napkin and touches it to my lips. “But, just so you know, if you do get sick, I’ll take care of you. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

I narrow an eye at him. “So, Dr. Jekyll…where’s Mr. Hyde gone?” He shoots me a quizzical look. “You’ve been a bit of a jerk since I got in your car. Not the man I met the other night in the ballroom, and not this guy who’s suddenly appeared once again.” I make a small circle toward him with my index finger.

He blows out a long breath. “Sorry. I’m a man of extremes sometimes.”

“You’re a total jerk sometimes. You practically bit the heads off both the pilot and that guy that helped with the luggage. Just because they looked at me? Men look at me, I’m used to it…”

He sits up straighter, looking directly forward for a long beat before answering. “I don’t want to hear about men looking at you. And I don’t want to see it, either. Not like they look at you.” He bites out, and as he looks back at me our eyes lock. “I hate it.”

I shake my head. “Why do you care who looks at me or how? You’re just protecting your investment.”

Anger clouds his eyes for a moment before he answers. “That’s what you think?” He huffs, then softens. “You’re an investment, sure. But not the kind you think. Not to me.”

His words are softer but still intense and that flutter in my stomach increases as he reaches again for my hand, and this time I don’t pull it away. I settle at the contact, his eyes on my face, then drifting lower to where my dress is high on my thighs.

“I like when you touch me.” I dare, remembering how it felt the other night when he kissed me. When his hands pushed up on my thighs, making me want more.

“I like touching you. It’s like touching heaven.” He half growls back, adding, “I don’t want anyone else touching you, Doralee. I’m sorry, you’re right I was rude to those guys, but the thought of even their eyes touching you…it’s unbearable to me.”

I’m buzzing inside as Damon’s eyes roam over me, this time with a fire and desire he’s not trying to hide. Sitting next to him, he’s even bigger than he looked when I met him before. He’s got to be six feet six inches at least, and close to three hundred rock solid pounds.

He’s all muscle and as my mind wanders to thoughts of him on top of me, I realize this mammoth man could crush me easily.

“So.” I start, reaching over to run my hand down his chest, feeling the beat of his heart there. “Are you still interested in touching heaven?” Heat courses through me as a rumble vibrates under my hand.

He reaches down and unbuckles my seatbelt, then his own, taking me by the hand and half jerking me up and out of my seat, dragging me toward another closed door in the back of the plane where there’s an entire bedroom suite, decorated in gold and white. As soon as we’re inside, he clicks the door shut behind us, pushing a button, and a red light illuminates above the door.

Panic tightens my throat as I look around, then back at the red light and put it all together.

“Wow.” I feel like every time I let my guard down, there’s some other red flag that starts waving, reminding me how naïve I am. “You’re a real Austin Powers, huh? This what you call your shag room?” I spit out, trying to tug my hand from his.