Free we were one once book 2: "A Dark Romance" by Willow Madison Page A

start of the plane.
    I let her go and sit on the chair facing hers. She doesn’t take her eyes off me now. I can’t tell if she trembles under my coat or only feels the movement of the wheels across the runway. Either way, I’m turned on. Her beautiful, dark eyes never waver.
    I see the flight attendant heading our direction and wave her away. “I don’t want us to be disturbed, my love. But, please, let me know if you need anything.”
    “Thank you, Miles.” Her lips barely move, but hearing my name from them again after all this time is enough to make my cock spring up. I can feel the painful pressure pulsing against the seam of my crotch. And I like it. I never get as hard as I am now except with her.
    “I think we should clear up a few things before we’re home. Don’t you?” She only nods and blinks rapidly. Her blush and lipstick stands out a little more against the paling of her face.
    I have had plenty of time to think about what I would say to her when I at last found her. It’s changed over the course of the years, as her disappearance changed from a possible kidnapping to an obvious slap in my face, but all those words come down to one. “Why?”
    She stops all blinking. I can see her eyes take on the subtle emptiness that indicates her withdrawal into herself. It’s quickly changed into a look of aggression and challenge, her cheeks flaming with a barely bottled rage. “ Why ? You ask why ?” She laughs and leans forward, my jacket slipping from her shoulders. I can’t stop my eyes from caressing her. “You know why, Miles. I had to get her away from you .” She nearly yells this at me over the increased engine purr.
    I smile and am pleased to see her sit back in her seat again, an unconscious submission on her part to the fear I know she’s trying to hide.
    I wait till we are in flight to continue our conversation. She’s turned away from me again, her eyes and jaw set in angry profile. But her fingers tap nervously on her leg.
    I know this version of her well. She feigns invulnerability, but she can’t keep it up for long. Like an animal pinned in a trap, she’ll try everything to get free. But eventually she wears herself out and lies down for her inevitable end.
    I have only to close my eyes and I can see the first time I truly knew this side of her. It was the first time I became fully aware of her splintered identities. I’d noticed funny things about her from the start and saw her Mother studying me whenever I was around her. But once I saw the truth, I was amazed that I hadn’t seen it sooner.
    I lean back more, stretching my legs wider, palms flat on my knees, continuing to smile at her, “Do you remember the first time I told you that I knew you were…different?” I can see that my question surprises her, she’s unable to keep her coy and calm look in place for a moment, turning to face me again.
    “Yes. Of course I do.” She removes my jacket, folding it over the arm of her chair, before moving to cross her legs. The slit on her dress falls open even more. I’m able to keep my eyes on her face this time, even when she runs her fingers along her thigh and up past her breasts to rest on her throat. I can see that she meant to hide her need to swallow her fear down to continue in a steadier voice. “The roses had just been trimmed and there were petals still on the ground.”
    I smile at her depiction, this side of her was always poetic. “I still can’t smell a rose without thinking of you .”
    She bends her head, looking seductively up through her lashes, “Then why did you try to get rid of me?”
    I ignore her question, “I saw you heading out to the gardens from my window that day. I was curious about why you would choose to go there with a storm threatening and after all the flowers had just been cut down. You never told me why.”
    She sits up more, weighing an inner dialogue about sharing anything with me. The part of her most hidden wins out and she can’t