“And they’re cool with that?”
The seat belt light turns off and I unbuckle so I can face E to answer. “The news of my assistant’s break-in and kidnapping has gone public. The show is announcing tomorrow that I am going back to my investigative journalist roots to track her down. The cops hate it, and want me there to be interviewed, but I’m not a suspect. Murder Talk will have a special about it when I’m back and Di is feeling better.”
Di’s abduction isn’t the only thing in the news about me. Pictures of us at the hotel in Cuba have also surfaced, and I’m sure there will be more from Miami. Thankfully, Di is the bigger story. One I hope to turn into a rescue as soon as possible.
Also that we find E’s father before he hurts Di.
“I suppose they don’t have to lie about you being dedicated to solving the crime,” E points out before looking around. “Will there be a meal on this flight?”
“Yes, but I think we have about thirty minutes until it was planned. Are you hungry now?” I ask, standing to fetch the flight attendant who likely is afraid to check on us too much after last time.
“No. I mean, yes,” E grabs my wrist to stop me. “I’m hungry, but it can wait. Can we talk?”
Sitting down again, I notice he’s playing with his collar. “About?”
“Well, we had sex,” E states, biting his lips and staring at his hands that are twisting in his lap. “At least I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a dream?”
“It wasn’t a dream,” I confirm, grabbing his hands to stop his anxious movements. Looking at his face until E lifts those brown eyes to mine, I hold his chin in place. “You’re mine. And you said I could have you, even if you aren’t awake. Did you lie?”
E scrunches his face up in anger, “Of course I didn’t lie.”
“Do you regret giving me that permission?” I ask, not sure I care if he changed his mind. “Was I not welcome in your body like you suggested?”
“I said what I meant and I didn’t change my mind,” E tells me with a stubborn look, his shoulders squaring. “I wanted you before I knewmore than your celebrity persona, and I want you now. Even if you did kidnap me and keep me hostage.”
“I also drugged you.”
“You what?” E says with a high pitched voice before whispering, “When?”
“After all the travel and stress of going to two of your father’s properties in two countries, you needed rest.”
My words are only stating the facts, and I know he might hate me for it, but it doesn’t change my position on his place in my life. Still, I’m surprised when he grins.
“Always wanted to try some cnc somnophilia, so I guess thanks for making that happen.”
Not knowing how to respond to my horny and forever unpredictable pet, I crash my mouth against his. We kiss and grope, my beard rubbing his sensitive flesh raw and his lips plumping as I nibble and take my fill. I’m considering unzipping my pants when I hear the clink of the curtain alerting us to the arrival of the flight attendant.
Breaking apart, I find her setting the tray of food down without looking at us. “If you need anything else, press the button.”
She makes a hasty retreat and E starts laughing. I give him a questioning look, but that just makes him laugh harder. He bends over with it, wiping tears from his eyes. Somehow, I find it entertaining.
The news is making wild guesses about me and the mystery man I’m with, but they have no clue he’s not my assistant or a random fling. He is quickly becoming my favorite obsession. They’re speculating about my sexuality, and I find I don’t care.
If they only knew my real secrets.
Chapter twenty-one
E
MacandImakeit through the traffic-logged drive from LaGuardia to the Carnegie Hill neighborhood of Manhattan, and I find out he has an apartment in the city. It’s much smaller than I would expect, and doesn’t look lived in, the furniture a non-descript white and uncomfortable. When I tell Mac this as he’s setting up a camera, he doesn’t seem bothered.
“This place is a cover for kills in the city. Di works her magic so it looks like I haven’t left the building. So far, no one has even suspected me, but it’s better safe than sorry.”
“I suspected you.”
Moving from behind the ring light, Mac approaches to loom over me on the couch. Leaning forward to bracket my head with his arms, his gray eyes are intense. “You didn’t suspect me, you saw me in the act. That’s not the same thing. No one. Has ever. Suspected me.”
Swallowing, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be turned on by his intimidating words and posture, but I find myself squirming under the weight of his gaze. “No, Sir.”