the first time? Does Baz expect us to be friends? I hope not because I am sure if I found anything sharp during that meeting, I’d kill him. Just as he tried to kill me.
My ears perk up when I catch the tail end of their conversation. “I’m sorry. What did you just say? You’re cutting Vincent from the club?” I blurt out, making it obvious I’ve been listening in on their conversation. My heart is pounding. I couldn’t have heard that right.
“Do you have a problem with that?” Baz asks, raising a brow.
“I…I don’t understand.”
“He tried to kill you. He’s lucky I can’t find him, or I’d kill him.”
I’m shocked silent. I didn’t think Baz would ever choose me over any of his friends. Hell, a part of me isn’t even sure he believes my recount of the events that night. And if he can’t find Vincent, then where is he? What is he up to? Jack couldn’t find him either. It is like he disappeared off the face of the planet.
I shift on the leather toward Baz, watching him. Could he have…? No, he wouldn’t have. I don’t mean that much to him. Not enough to kill for. But shit. He’s lied about so much already, what’s one more lie?
Halfway through the flight, I start to doze off, lulled to sleep by the murmur of Baz’s and Marcus’s deep tones. When I come to, a blanket has been draped over my body, and the plane is empty, save for Baz who’s still sitting beside me, watching me.
I shift on the leather seat, stretching my arms over my head on a yawn, glancing away from him. I’m beyond uncomfortable with the weight of his stare. How long has he been watching me sleep?
“That’s not creepy,” I mutter, pushing the blanket off me. I don’t necessarily think it’s creepy, but I do think it’s odd. And if it makes him look away, even better. His lips quirk with amusement as if he knows exactly what I’m doing. “Where is everyone?”
“They’ve already cleared out.”
I swallow. It’s just us. That much is obvious. My heart kickstarts, pounding recklessly, and my core clenches, like it’s waking up from a painfully long slumber. As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Baz leans into me, and I freeze. My breath catches, and when our eyes lock, a thrill shoots down my spine. Bolts of electricity travel from the tips of my fingers down to my toes. Tension crackles in the air around us, and when Baz reaches over, lifting a strand of my hair, I stop breathing.
He looks down at it, rubbing it between his fingers in contemplation. “This is going to take some getting used to,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Before I contemplate further, he wraps a fist in my hair, jerking me toward him, and I gasp, my nipples beading against my shirt, as every molecule in my body begs for his touch.
I tense up when he goes in for a kiss. Jerking in his hold, I press a hand to his chest, halting him. “I said no kissing.”
He chuckles. The sound is warm and deep, and it stirs something inside me that’s been dormant for far too long. Baz leans in, and I slam my eyes shut, thinking he’s going to ignore me, but instead, I feel his lips press against my neck, just below my ear, and a ragged gasp escapes my lips. Somehow, neck kisses might be worse than a kiss on the lips. Tingles erupt throughout my body. He doesn’t stop there. No. With his teeth, he nips at the soft skin there, then drags his lips up toward my ear, toying with me.
“Let’s go home,” he whispers, huskily, just before he pulls away, leaving me absolutely breathless.
Baz doesn’t miss a single beat. In one fluid movement, he’s on his feet, leading the way off his jet. I struggle to catch up with him. My legs threaten to give out on me. How is it a kiss—and not even a real kiss—from this man, can leave me this boneless?
Stepping inside the penthouse again is both bittersweet and stomach churning. A pang shoots through my chest as I look around. Everything is exactly the same. Nothing has changed décor wise, but it feels like everything else has. I can hear prior conversations whisper around like old ghosts. Echoes of the past.
My chest tightens with emotion. Memories of that night. Me running from this very place, in tears, with