My brother is an idiot. What the hell is he thinking? Falling in love with a woman he doesn’t even know, then concocting a plan that is doomed to failure. You cannot tell him shit though. Like the dutiful brother I am, here I sit on a private plane, waiting for the object of his affection. I don’t know how I get myself into these kinds of situations, but here I am. We are the only ones on the plane right now, but it’s just a matter of minutes before we are felons.
Mikhail is playing cards like he is the king of the fucking world. Like we are not about to do the unthinkable. Meanwhile, I am sweating bullets. My job is to deal with the spare. The spare being the girl who is plastered to Marisol’s side twenty-four seven. Since I won’t go into any situation completely in the dark, I hired a private investigator to dig into her background. What I found was quite frankly, astonishing. Destiny Aileen Walker is quite accomplished. At three days past eighteen, she has seen and done more than most people in a lifetime. Including myself. I am a bit fascinated with her, not that I would tell my brother that. Certainly not after the shit I gave him about his girl over the last year.
The thing is, I don’t know what she looks like. I didn’t want the PI close enough to her to get her picture. Something about that felt wrong to me. When I walk out of the bedroom on the jet, I spot her instantly. I try to hold back a growl, but she must have heard me. Her eyes pop up meeting mine. Her little gasp has me hard instantly. She is so fucking beautiful, I think that I will go insane if I don’t kiss her pretty mouth.
I immediately notice that she is barely dressed. The sheer cover-up and tiny bikini she is wearing, makes me see red. It is completely irrational, but I can’t help it. I’ve never been gladder that my brother is the only other male present. It doesn’t hurt that he is completely obsessed with Marisol.
“Oh my God, I think we got on the wrong plane,” Marisol says. Mikhail sits across from her, so I move to sit next to Destiny, over on the couch she claimed. Her little glass of vodka is empty, so I motion for Stacia, the flight attendant, to bring us each a fresh glass.
“I am Ivan Dobrev and I want to apologize for my brother. He has no patience.” She laughs and extends her hand.
“I am Destiny Walker. There is no need for you to apologize for him. As long as he doesn’t hurt my bestie, I am good with whatever scheme he’s got going on.” When her hand is in mine, I swear there is something electric between us. “Oh shit,” she says, pulling her hand back.
Before I can say anything else, Stacia brings over our drinks, setting them down. She then trails her fingertip down the length of my forearm. I jerk my arm away from her and look over at Destiny. She is smiling, but her little fists are clenched at her sides.
I love that she is feeling jealous, but I don’t want her upset or thinking that I would play games with her.
“Do you require anything else, Sir?”
“That will be all, Stacia,” I say, dismissing her.
The sneering looks she gives my Destiny piss me off. I will have to speak to HR about her attitude towards guests, as well as her inappropriate forwardness.
“She seems like a real gem,” Destiny says, with a smirk on her face, as soon as Stacia is out of sight. “She was kinda rude to me when I got on board.”
“I will take care of it,” I say, bringing my glass to my lips.
“No need. I can take care of bitches like her,” she says, laughing. She has a great laugh. I vow to make her laugh often. Her sassiness is refreshing.
“I bet you can.”
“So, what exactly is going on here? Where are we going?” she asks.
“Simply put, Mikhail has fallen in love with your friend.” I state matter-of-factly. “We are heading to our resort the Ostrov.” She nods.
“He never thought to ask her out? I mean, kidnapping is a bit extreme.” She says, laughing.
“I tried to tell him, but you can’t tell him anything. He won’t hurt her though, I give you my word.”
“And what exactly does your word mean to me?” She asks, adjusting her body so that her back is against the arm of the leather couch. Her legs Indian-style. I get a peek of her smooth thighs.
Fuck, the creamy skin is too much for me and I almost come, like an untried teenager. Fuck, it’s been so long since I was with a woman. Thinking back, it’s been at least six years, maybe more. At twenty-five you’d think that is all I’d care about but getting our company off the ground was our sole focus. Besides, I have never wanted anyone as much as I want her.
“Probably nothing yet, but you will see.”
We spend the rest of the short flight talking about everything and nothing. It was enjoyable. I look over at Mikhail and Marisol. They seem to be hitting it off as well. I am glad. He has wanted this for so long.
Once we are off the plane, Mikhail whisks Marisol off to his private house on the right side of the island in a SUV. Divide and conquer was his idea. My original plan was to dump Destiny in a suite and go about my business. But that was before I met her. Now, I want her in my space. I want her in my bed and I will do anything to get her there. I want her tight little body under me. I want to own her, breed her, wed her.
In that fucking order. It’s all I can think about.
The thing is though, I want her to want it. I’d never do anything to hurt her, but she doesn’t know that yet.
In the limo, on the way to the resort, I lose my cool. She is sitting even closer to me than she was on the plane. Her perfume surrounding me in the enclosed space makes me crazy. I get on my knees in front of her and pull her ass to the edge of the seat. I bury my face into the fabric over her pussy. Her scent drives me wild and I can’t help the thoughts I am having. Fuck. She is mine. No other man will ever know her again.
“YA sobirayus' trakhnut' tebya tak sil'no.” I growl out roughly.
“Obeshchaniye?” Her perfect Russian surprises me, but it shouldn’t. When I look up at her she smiles.
I lean up, my mouth taking hers. She wraps her long legs around my waist, my hard cock hits her pussy in a way she must love because she grinds against me harder.
“YA obeshchayu, printsessa.” I say into her ear in a gravelly voice I don’t recognize. It is a promise I intend to keep. Often.