Rapture (Renegades 7)

“Stop being so negative,” she told him. “Having us in the tabloids is bringing a lot of buzz for your movie, putting you in the headlines as the franchise’s savior. Zahara couldn’t do that for you. Besides, you can’t be with her right now anyway. Weren’t you listening to Michel? No dating between cast or crew.”

Chase rubbed his face with both hands. “This is fucked.”

“Look, I’ll back off,” she told him. “Just pose for the cameras once or twice a week until your film is over. If Brendon is still harassing me at that point, I’ll go to court.”

“That will be hard to do,” Chase said. “We’re filming in Vancouver. I leave next week.”

“We’ll work something out,” she said. “Our filming schedules in Canada overlap a little.”

Beautiful. He couldn’t even get away from her in Canada. “I can’t talk about this anymore. I’ve got to get to work. But you have to figure something out while I’m gone. It’s your responsibility, Lila.”

“No worries, Mr. Layton,” Trey said. “I’m on duty.”

6

Zahara boarded the plane for Vancouver looking forward to an excuse to sleep. She’d spent the day muscling a motorcycle around the hills of Hollywood as a demonstrator for driving techniques Wes was teaching Chase, and she was drained—emotionally and physically.

A week had passed since their initial talk, but the tension remained, one Wes and Keaton clearly felt. When they’d pushed her for answers, Zahara had told them, family or not, it wasn’t their business. Both had backed off, but she still felt their watchful eyes whenever she and Chase worked together. Like today.

Because Chase was more focused on learning and performing the stunts than cornering Zahara, they’d leveled into a functional working style—more or less.

Now, she followed Wes toward the back of the plane and kept her eyes forward as she passed Chase, who was seated in first class beside Despina with his script open. Forward momentum of the line halted as someone in front of them paused to load their luggage into the overhead bin, and Zahara found herself stuck beside Chase. Just standing within reach of him shifted the air around her, creating a kind of pressure she couldn’t explain. One filled with sizzle and spark.

“No way,” Keaton told Wes in front of her in line. “You sat beside her on that flight to Singapore. I should get the next five domestic trips just to even things up.”

The plane was small, a two-by-two throughout coach, and Keaton and Wes had been jockeying for the seat beside Zahara since they’d arrived at the terminal. They were both such big guys that flying any distance in coach quickly became uncomfortable. Downright miserable when they had to sit together.

“Let’s roshambo for her,” Keaton suggested.

“Can I get in on that?” Chase asked from the seat beside her.

“Hey,” she said. “Not property here.”

“Sure, dude,” Wes said, ignoring Zahara and answering Chase. “I’ll trade you. Zahara for first class.”

“Done.” Chase unbuckled his seat belt.

She put a hand on his shoulder before he got up. The warmth of his body radiated through the fabric and made desire curl in her belly. “I hate to break it to you guys, but none of you are sitting next to me. I’ve already wrangled a seat beside Thomas.”

“Odd Thomas?” Keaton asked, using the nickname he’d picked up on set after one of Dean Koontz’s characters.

“I heard that,” came from Thomas somewhere closer to the front of the plane, and laughter among the cast and crew carried through the small plane.

There was nothing odd about Thomas other than being the quietest member of the crew and a total genius nerd. One who would spend the flight absorbed in a book or his computer, leaving Zahara to curl up in the corner and sleep in peace.

“Sweet,” Keaton said. “I can bribe Thomas with almost anything.”

“Not if I get to him first,” Wes teased.

“Bet I’ve got the best prize,” Chase said, then yelled toward the front, “Did you hear that, Thomas?”

The line moved forward, and Zahara continued toward the rear of the plane, where she took the very last window seat. As planned, Thomas sat beside her, put in earphones, and opened a book.

She sighed and worked to find a comfortable position, drifting off even before the plane left the ground, but kept floating to consciousness to readjust. She couldn’t get comfortable enough to find the deep sleep she craved.

While caught between consciousness and sleep, control over her thoughts slid away. Her mind conjured Chase and their weekend together. How much they’d laughed. How heartbreakingly sweet he’d been. How wickedly passionate.

Her mind filled with their last morning together. To coming awake to the feel of Chase between her thighs, kissing his way up her belly, over her chest. To the feel of his hair between her fingers as he covered one breast with his hand, the other with his mouth. And finally spiraling his tongue with hers as he’d filled her.