Emmett
Emmett leaned against the basement wall, watching the gang meeting through slitted eyes. Edward lounged in his chair, his chin propped on his fist, listening to a stumbling report from one of the newer members. The furnace rumbled to life and the murky light in the room brightened slightly. The blond kid was stuttering, and the crowd shifted, bored.
Emmett wondered when Edward would order the kid to shut up. He was usually less than tolerant, but today he seemed to be in a very relaxed and genial mood.
Finally, the kid stumbled to a stop.
"All right. Give your figures to Laurent after the meeting," Edward said. He tapped a finger on his armrest. "You're going to need to do better next time. But I'll give you one more chance. Of course, you're aware of the consequences should you fail again." His voice was light and pleasant.
The blond let out his breath in relief. "Y-yes, Captain. Th-thank you." He wiped his face with his sleeve. "I-I promise I'll do better."
Edward turned to Laurent. "Nothing more on the agenda?" He glanced over the crowd. "Very well. I'll be away on personal business this weekend. In my absence, Laurent will be in charge. You will obey him as you would me. I'll receive a direct report upon my return and will deal with any insubordination personally." Laurent, standing at Edward's side, nodded in his impassive way.
Emmett watched the others' faces to see how they would take the news. Edward rarely left his headquarters, preferring to keep personal contact with his subordinates. Emmett doubted a few days' absence would make a significant difference in Edward's hold over the gang; they were too terrified of him to attempt anything in his absence. Laurent was a good choice as proxy. He was completely ruthless. He would not hesitate to threaten anyone he deemed disloyal to Edward or mete out any punishment he found necessary to maintain Edward's rule of terror.
Still, Emmett mused, it was interesting that Edward had decided that something was so important that it was worth taking time away from his operation during this critical period. The distribution of Rapture was going extremely well from a financial standpoint; however, Volterra's success in this area was already attracting wolves in the form of rival gangs trying to muscle in on their territory, dealers being roughed up and having their product stolen, agents attempting to infiltrate their supply lines, and of course the cops from multiple jurisdictions swarming all over the district like ants looking for a source of sugar. Laurent, although loyal, did not have Edward's genius for planning and strategy, his flexible and wide-ranging ability to react instantly and brilliantly to any situation. It was a tactical error for Edward to leave the field of battle at this time.
Edward's expression gave little away, as always. But Emmett could detect a new softness in his face. The man—was happy. He had never seen Edward happy before. Intent, triumphant, pleased with a well-conceived and executed plan, yes, but never happy. This emotion was distracting him from his work; and the nature of that work required his entire concentration and delicate touch on the controls at all times. Otherwise, it could all come tumbling down, and would bring many other people down with it, himself included. Edward's new love interest was a weakness. Bella Swan posed a threat to all of Volterra.
Removing the threat without incurring Edward's wrath would be extremely tricky. Edward was relentless in pursuit of revenge.
A true conundrum, Emmett mused. It would take time to consider all angles. It was ironic that Edward's absence would facilitate that consideration.
Edward
Edward lifted himself out of the limo and reached in to help Bella exit. They were catching a flight out of Sea-Tac. A uniformed porter put their suitcases on a cart and trundled them off in the direction of the first-class ticket counter.
Edward placed his hand under Bella's elbow to steer her in the right direction. She was trying to peer everywhere at once, eyes wide at her first glimpse of an international airport.
They moved through security rapidly in the area reserved for first class passengers. The TSA agents were polite and friendly. Edward returned their comments with equal courtesy, satisfied. It only took money to be treated with the respect he deserved.
Once on the plane, they were seated in two roomy, high-backed seats with a full recline, upholstered in royal blue. They formed a semi-private compartment. The very attentive, neatly-coifed blonde flight attendant chatted with them, fetched pillows and blankets, and served them each a glass of wine before takeoff. Meanwhile, the economy passengers stood in a long line, shuffled from foot to foot, struggled with their bags and were scolded by the staff for the size of their carry-ons.
Bella held the glass of wine with a sweaty hand. "What should I do with this?"
"You're expected to drink it. To do otherwise would be rude." He lifted his glass in a silent toast to her and drained it.
"But," she whispered in his ear, "Neither of us is 21."
"Shhh," Edward said, putting a finger to his lips. "Don't let them know."
With that, Bella, her eyes darting back and forth, slowly brought the glass to her mouth and sipped.
The whine of the engines rose. The plane taxied out, and the flight attendant retrieved their empty glasses. Edward reclined his seat. Bella stared out the window at the baggage handlers driving by on carts. Her nervousness had eased after her glass of wine. Edward took her hand in his and caressed her fingers.
Bella
It was like being in a different world, strange and unreal. The buzz of the engines, the odd vibrations in the seat underneath me, the pale yellow molded plastic covers everywhere. The cabin lights dimmed when we reached cruising altitude and Edward helped me recline my seat all the way back until it was flat as a narrow bed. All around us, the cabin occupants settled for the night, and it was quiet. I was too agitated to even think of sleeping, the taste of the wine lingering in my mouth, my head swirling with peculiar sensations.
Edward lifted my blanket and crawled over the armrest between our two seats.
"What are you doing?" I hissed. The flatbed seat was barely big enough for one.
"I want to cuddle."
I glanced nervously at the darkened aisle. We had privacy only as long as no one walked past. Our bodies were jammed together under the blanket and I could feel every inch of his body against mine. The long muscles of one of his legs flexed and he draped it over mine; he writhed ever so slowly against me, his hardness pressing into my sex.
Electric tingles flashed through me and my skin burned. His scent poured into me and I inhaled more deeply. His face was only inches from mine, his lips glistening in the dim light.
He hovered over me, hands clenching in the fabric of my blouse. I traced the lines of his features, his thickly fringed eyes, the curve of his eyebrows, his full lips, and all I wanted was to be as close to him as possible. He bent toward me, inch by inch, and his hair brushed my cheek.
He was a dangerous man. How was it that I desired him so much? Waves of lethal and desperate want rippled across my skin. His lips brushed mine, velvet over fire; he laid down small open-mouthed kisses from the corner of my mouth to my ear. I shivered.
Then his tongue was in my mouth, his hands tilting my head to his, forcing my neck to arch back, bending me to his desires. He kissed me again and again, his tongue sinking into my mouth in a slow and intense rhythm.
His finger traced a line of flame along my throat and moved to circle my breast. His hands worked at the buttons of my shirt.
Suddenly coming to my senses, I pulled away. "What are you doing? We're in public here."
"So?" he whispered in my ear, his breath teasing the nape of my neck like a gust of hellfire. "No one can see us."
"What about the flight attendant?" I whispered back. "It's got to be illegal to make out on an airplane."
"Of course it is. However…" He unhooked my bra. "I slipped her a few hundred-dollar bills. She'll leave us alone." He drew back briefly. "And we're going to do much more than make out, Bella."
He peeled back my shirt from my shoulders and dipped his tongue into the hollows above my collarbones. I panted, trying desperately to keep quiet. His hands snuck behind my back, pulled off my bra and tossed it on the floor.
The cool air hit my bare breasts and I grasped at the threads of my resistance. "What if someone sees us?"
"So? They'll just be jealous of us because we're such a sexy couple." He traced patterns over my breasts with his fingers, bent his head to lie on my heart, his hair feathering over my skin. My nipples ached.
I couldn't believe we were doing this. I should tell him to stop. This was just wrong. I didn't want to have public sex.
His fingers trailed down my bare torso, leaving a line of sparks under my skin. He curled one around the waistband of my skirt, teasing and dancing, and I couldn't help panting, much as I tried to be silent, aware of all the people sitting only a few feet away in the dim cabin. I couldn't stop myself from bucking my hips into Edward's body. He gripped my ass hard, his fingers digging into my flesh.
"Do you really want me to stop?" Leisurely, he licked a line down between my breasts to my belly button. He plunged both hands into the gap between my legs. Arousal pooled like lava in my core. His fingers slipped into my panties and I was lost.
I lay on the rough fabric of the airplane seat, half-undressed under the blanket, half-ashamed, half-thrilled. Edward's expert fingers stroked me between my legs, spread my lips apart so he could reach more deeply inside me, an intimate caress that drowned me in sensation. I groaned.
"You like it after all," he murmured. Slowly, he took my mouth in his, his tongue probing me at the same time as his fingers entered me. I relaxed completely. I curled and twisted under his touch and let him take utter control of me. I was his, I would do anything for him; it didn't matter, I would do whatever he wanted, even though I knew it was wrong, knew that he had done so many things that were wrong; but everything about him aroused me incredibly and now, at this moment, I would not think or judge; I simply belonged to him.