The Art of You

In the Air

Now I knew why Bianca used to say she’d rather edit the “garbage” she wrote the day before than have to stare at nothingness the next morning. Blank pages were the worst.

If I eyeballed the sketchpad any longer, maybe I’d hallucinate something to appear on paper. I wasn’t sure what made me think that after fourteen years of being unable to draw, I’d magically be able to start up on a semi-bumpy flight aboard our family’s plane.

The jet was a commercial airliner before my father purchased it and outfitted it into a motorhome for the skies. The space and luxury it provided definitely had its perks. Maybe a nap in the bedroom was a better idea than the staring contest I was having with the blank page.

I set the sketchpad on the empty seat next to me and went to unbuckle, but the order, “Don’t,” from a deep voice off to my side, stopped my attempt, freezing my hands in place. “Turbulence. Stay seated.”

From my peripheral view, I spied Hudson in the aisle next to me. I lifted my chin, allowing my gaze to take a nice, slow journey up his body before landing on the blue sapphires pinning me with a hard, broody look.

I let go of the belt, obeying, but couldn’t stop myself from pointing out, “And yet, you’re standing.”

“I’m twice your weight.” He parked a palm on the top of my seat and dipped his head to meet my eyes. “Don’t you worry about me.”

“Oh, but I will anyway, and you know it.” I wasn’t sure if I’d mouthed those words or they got lost in the ambient airplane noise.

A quick smile dusted across his lips, one that managed to hit his eyes. I’d consider that a win. He’d been living in broody central since we’d left New York.

The man was a deep thinker, probably even more than I was, and it was clear there was a lot wreaking havoc in his mind.

As he continued to quietly study me like I was an abstract painting that didn’t make sense, I mentally went through the list of whys he’d become a grump since leaving our office, checking off each one.

For starters, he was stressed about this whole mess, particularly after hearing Seth Maverick’s confession. Totally reasonable.

Secondly, I was on the plane with him heading into an unknown situation that could be full of metaphorical or even real minefields. Still a coin toss if his old teammate was on our side or not. Hudson had one hopeful theory he’d asked Falcon Falls to look into—about Alfie being a spy—and sadly, it didn’t pan out.

Thirdly, we received two semi-disturbing phone calls en route to JFK.

And finally, I couldn’t help but wonder if he regretted his joke about my birth control, realizing how forever-like that sounded.

The next bump in the sky knocked my head back to the present, and provided evidence that Hudson being over two hundred pounds didn’t stop gravity from doing its thing. The jolt knocked him sideways, his momentum propelling him around in front of me as his hands scrambled for purchase on the back of my seat. His legs settled on each side of mine as he stood there, anchoring himself in place and forcing me to pin my knees together.

If my brothers weren’t somewhere on board, I’d tease him to have a seat on my lap so I could keep him safe from the forces of physics he’d tried to deny. Who am I kidding? The man was all muscle and would crush me.

The next few little dips down in the sky sent my stomach right along with them. And yet, Hudson remained a statue of stubbornness in front of me. Definitely not a bad view. I tracked the veins in his arm up to his bicep before following along the strong curve of muscle to his broad shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stealing the line I’d planned to toss his way.

“You mean, am I concerned that, according to Jesse—who learned from the freaking President himself—that our Central Intelligence Agency has been compromised from the inside?” The aforementioned phone call number one. “Or disappointed your father blames us for him winding up in Splitsville with the ambassador, deciding to go for round two of being a jerk to you all in the same day?” And that had been the second call we were graced with en route to JFK.

That snark in my tone was meant for all the assholes causing us these headaches, not for the man before me, who only deserved my attitude when I was hoping he’d fix it with his tongue in my mouth. Or between my legs.

His jaw locked tight, straining beneath the facial hair coming in since he hadn’t shaved since last week.

The turbulence seemed to stop, as if someone had hit the snooze button, but Hudson remained in the same position.

He quickly scanned the cabin before returning his eyes to mine, which had me believing we were still alone in the area I’d carved out for some me-time.

My brothers were more than likely still in the main cabin, chasing down leads with Roman and the two other operators who’d come along for the ride.

So, it’s just us here, nestled between two walls and the clouds.

“This whole thing got a lot more complicated with that call from Jesse, and the fact I let you on the flight after learning that news has me questioning my judgment.” Narrowing his eyes, he punctuated his words, snapping them out one by one as he seethed, “You. Should. Not. Be. Here.”

I didn’t blame him for worrying about me joining him on a mission that still didn’t have a target package. Hard to go into a fight when you’re not sure who you’re actually up against. But I was here and he needed to accept that.

Okay, here we go. I went for the buckle, and no warning from him was going to stop me this time. I needed to stand to confront his doubts. Plus, I knew he had to be uncomfortable with his head bowed and his beat-up arm in that position. Broody and uncomfortable would not make this conversation any easier.

“Did I tell you that you could get up?” His deep, authoritative tone caught me off guard, and I almost tossed whatever was left of my Miss Independent ass out the window.

Apparently, I enjoyed having him boss me around. Not only did I remain parked in place, I slammed my lips shut as it all clicked—the why he was being a bossy alpha. He was itching for a good fight.

Forget uncomfortable and broody, he was stressed and in his head. And he needed tension relief in the only way possible considering our location. Message received. In the past, arguing with him about the silliest things always helped snap me free of my sad or bad mood. Maybe it was time to return the favor.

“No turbulence right now.” I made an O-shape with my fingers, then started for the buckle to piss him off the way I was certain he wanted me to do.

Unbuckling, I tried to stand, but he refused to move, hovering in front of me like a sexy blockade.

He angled his head, eyes piercing mine as he issued the challenge he knew I’d accept. “I won’t tell you again.”

Defiance was my specialty, and he was about to get the max if that would help him. I used my smaller size to my advantage and played a game of limbo with his arm, trying to duck under to get free of my muscular trap.

“Not so fast,” he rasped, hooking his arm around my waist in one fast movement. He drew my back to his chest as we stood in the aisle.

He surprised me when he gently set his hand at the column of my throat, then slid his palm higher, allowing his thumb to sweep back and forth at my jawline.

If he held me like that any longer, he’d have my permission to bend me over the couch opposite us and take me right there. No man had ever made me so, well, whatever this was.

“You really shouldn’t be here.” His breath danced over the sensitive part of my ear before he dropped his mouth and nipped my lobe.

“So you said. Want me to jump from the plane? Would that make you feel better?” There it was. Sarcasm. For a minute, I’d forgotten how to apply it like a pressure point. Minute over.

“Do you know how badly I want you?” Okay, not an answer, but at the same time, better than one. “How much I want to take you into the bedroom right now. And it has nothing to do with tension relief.” The dark edge of his voice as he kept his hold of me had my skin breaking out into chills.

“So do it.” I arched my back so my ass would press against the thick bulge I felt behind me. “Do all the things you’ve ever wanted to me. I just need something to bite down on so no one hears me screaming your name.” I kept my voice low, knowing what I’d said was as realistic as me actually drawing while on this flight. I highly doubted he’d make a move here.

His hand remained at my throat while his other wandered beneath the waistband of my leggings.

Okay, so we are doing this? We were out in the open and exposed to anyone who happened to walk into the cabin. Curtains for dividers were all that separated us from being caught.

The moment his fingers shifted my panties to the side, I trapped the moan inside my mouth by clamping down on my back teeth.

“Why are you soaking wet?” he drawled.

Looping my arm back to cradle his neck and draw myself even closer to him, my thighs tightened around his big hand as he pushed two fingers inside me. “You’re a smart man, I think you can figure it out.” I closed my eyes as he continued touching me.

“Such a bad girl.” Another nip at the shell of my ear as he continued to finger me.

“Only for you.” My promise had him stopping the strum of his fingers over my clit.

“You really are dangerous.” He withdrew his hand and spun me around before I had a chance to know what was coming. “Going to get me in trouble.”

“But Constantine approves, so . . .?” I whispered as he took hold of my face.

His pupils dilated as he stared at me as if drunk on love. “Your parents will murder me if I get their daughter pregnant before we’re married.” He laid the words out fast, then slanted his mouth over mine and kissed me.

I lost track of my ability to Freud my way through this. I’d expected a fake fight, not for him to tongue me so deeply we might become one.

“Enzo call—” Alessandro with his lovely timing had Hudson’s lips freezing against mine. “Sorry to, ahem, interrupt. Can you join us in the main cabin?”

“Be right there.” Hudson’s ability to talk with his lips still up against mine was impressive.

The fact he didn’t back away with my intimidating brother present was also sexy as hell.

“Copy that,” Alessandro said, and I assumed his lack of a lecture meant he was on the same page of approval as Constantine.

I didn’t check to see if we were alone as Hudson reset his attention on my mouth. He sucked my bottom lip, lightly tugging it between his teeth. Latching on to his forearms, he had me growing dizzy with desire all over again.

“Killing me, Smalls.” He moved his hands to my wrists. “Your pulse is racing.” He locked eyes with me.

“Gee, I wonder why.” Angling my head toward the main cabin, I added, “Now to face everyone and not look like I was just good and properly fucked will be a challenge.”

“They won’t think that.” I’d never known a smile could be so erotic, but the one before me now had me getting red-hot all over again.

“No?” I shot back in challenge, waiting for an explanation.

Still holding me, he dropped his tone even lower, and I felt that fluttering pulse take root between my legs when he murmured, “Because if I were to good–and–properly-fuck–you, you wouldn’t be able to walk afterward.”