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crossed my lips. “You can’t make me hate you. Nothing you do anymore makes me think you’re as scummy and horrid as you try to be. This whole walking contradiction thing with the buying me clothes and putting in a bed and then bribing me for dirty sex so you can get away without feeling something for me—it doesn't work. I see you too, just so you know.”
    He narrowed his gaze.
    Ignoring it, I stood on wobbly legs and walked to the clothing rack, lifting the tiny red dress, which looked like it might be a tube top, from its hanger. I walked back to the bed, undoing my shirt one slow button at a time and dropping it to the carpet. I dragged my bra off, letting my breasts linger in the air, exposed. I knew his face had an indifferent look upon it, but I also knew there was no way he was indifferent. I knew he loved me and he wanted me. And not just in the disgusting slutty way where he forced me to deep throat and I spent the morning on my hands and knees.
    I pulled the tight red dress on, dragging my pants and underwear down with it. I kicked everything off to the side so I was just in the slutty dress, and fluffed my hair like a porn star might. I turned to face him, letting him see the finished product.
    He didn't budge but I could see the fire.
    Slowly, I backed away, heading for the door, aware that if I ran he would chase. We had played that game all too often as well. “I love you, Servario. I have loved you for a while. I hate that I love you as much as you hate that you love me. But here we are, over international waters and land. We are in La La Land and no one has to know we love each other here. We can safely be open to everything and nothing all at once.”
    “Don't say that.” He clenched his jaw tightly, offering me a slightly softer version of his pent-up sex face. “You have to take it back. I won’t ever choose you, ever.”
    “I know that.” I nodded but deep down my heart broke a little bit. “I know, and yet I love you anyway.” It was true. I knew he wouldn't choose me over the rest of the world. He had a duty as a double agent and he took it seriously. Too seriously.
    No matter what, he would always be him, the ungettable get. The unattainable man behind the mask. It was like an aphrodisiac for me.
    My hands reached behind me, clutching the doorknob. I turned it, opening the door slowly—not running as if fleeing a tiger—and slipped out into the open jet plane, closing the door behind me.
    I turned and walked back to my seat, curious as to how close we were to landing. The jet was dark as the skies had yet to see the morning sun. We were flying through the night—a red eye with a black heart.
    I sat down, hating the fact that my bare ass was on his seat. God only knew what he did on them. He liked to pretend he didn't have sex on his planes with anyone but me, but I was smarter than I looked, most days.
    The door to the back didn't open, and I had to admit it bothered me. I wanted him to rush through the door, scooping me up and pinning me against the wall.
    Instead, I fell asleep again, this time looking like a prostitute with my ass on his seat, no doubt getting an infection or at least crabs.
    We landed with a jolt that woke me instantly. I blinked away the confusion of where I was and what was going on. It always took a second when we were on mission. I was used to warm mornings in my house with a cup of coffee as I planned my day around dropping my kids off at various activities or school.
    His body was in my peripheral but not next to me. I shivered, realizing I was still in my disturbing red dress and not just bare-assed but also barefoot. I grimaced, standing and walking to the back after the plane had settled.
    “Don't bother changing, just add some shoes and makeup. You know what the girls I associate with look like,” he muttered from behind his laptop.
    “Yup.” I sighed, not even considering changing. I knew what would happen. He would do his impatient act where he