Chapter five

Grasping at his shirt, Clarisse became wide eyed and conscience. Moving. They were moving. "Joseph!" Without thinking she began a steady beating on his chest, fighting for her life, as her legs kicked the air at the steady fear that surrounded her.

"Shh." Joseph let her fight as he whispered. His arms wrapped around her and held her tight to him. "We're not going in the air, just up the runway and back. That's all Clarisse. Just up and down the runway." He continually repeated the lines until her fighting began to ease and her grip on his shirt had tore the shoulder completely out.

She couldn't speak. Even if she could, she had no words to say. Nothing came to mind. She couldn't blame him. She couldn't stop the plane. She wasn't in control. She was just in his lap, being held tight, and that was good enough for her now. In fact, it was all she needed.

Finally giving up, she let the quiet sobs fall onto his neck and down on his shoulder. She had chills, and the eerie coldness ran through her bloodstream like poison. She needed his warmth.

"It's okay love. You're fine. Cry all you want. Let it out." Joseph did all he could do as he talked to her; he gently rubbed her back and held her hand.

It wasn't quite as bad as he expected. Really he believed she would have put up a better fight, and had more to say than he would have wanted to hear. In general, she did very well. Joseph really had no choice. He had to get her in the air again. Time was no friend to a fear. Indeed, he was afraid the longer she stayed on the ground, the more difficult it would be to fly again. Her doctor had confirmed his theory, and had pushed Joseph into pressing the matter silently.

He looked out the window as the jet turned once more, heading back toward the hanger. "I'll stop it now, if you wish." She had been through enough for one day.

For the first time Clarisse lifted her head from the crook of his neck. She looked around at the empty seats, and then back again at Joseph. He was with her. She turned in his arms just enough to glance out the porthole of a window. The ground was there, just where she had left it. Everything was fine, just as he said it was. "No. Joseph, no. I'm okay now." Joseph nodded to her and pulled her close again.

His lips met hers with a soft brush. Right now he knew she needed to be loved. He could read her eyes, and feel the need in her palms. So with a series of soft kisses, he gave in to her need and let her enjoy a little more love than before. She deserved it, and after the beating she had given him, so did he.

Her mouth was delicious, smooth, and welcoming to his own. Joseph could sense her hunger, not only from the lack of breakfast, but the urges that plagued both of them for the other. Now that they had finally committed to being lovers, the burden was much harder to bear than before they had ever crossed the line of friendship. Now that they had tasted the main course, no longer could they live off of just the appetizers.

She was falling again, falling into the trance that came with his advances. His hands roamed freely over her body, squeezing and teasing every nerve that they came into contact with. Slowly heating the coldness that came from her moment of panic, Clarisse began to relax. From shear exhaustion of the moment, she could not even manage to think. There could have been a thousand eyes on them, or none. Right now, as always, her trust lay in him.

Resting his head in the crook of her neck minutes later, Joseph took deep breaths to calm his own arousal. This was as frustrating on him as her, as he knew it would be. However it had to be this way. It was the quickest, not the mention the only way that tagged a guarantee. There was no question as to her weakness for him, or his for her.

"We have to get back," he finally spoke. "We're meeting with a young woman this morning, remember?" Joseph could still feel her heated breath on his neck, and her arms were tightly holding on to him.

"How do you expect me to meet with anyone like this?" She brought her eyes to meet with his. "I need you." She ran her hands down over his chest.

"You need a cool shower, and so do I. Along with another shirt," he stated, looking at the torn out shoulder. Clarisse fiddled with the flimsy fabric, tracing her nails over the flesh that was bare. "Clarisse, stop. God knows I want you too, but trust me, it will all be worth it." She nodded and pulled away, standing to primp herself as only a Queen would.

"Good thing I bought my jacket," Joseph spoke to himself as he covered the ripped shirt.

"How do I look?"

"Heavenly," he winked.

She headed for the exit, waiting for him to lower the steps, when it suddenly occurred to her what he had done. They were not alone. She could hear two men speaking, obviously the pilots. He had planned the whole thing. He had lied to her.

"Damn you Joseph!" Just as he turned, her palm crossed his cheek with fire for a tail. The act itself stunned him for a bit, and he pressed his own hand to the burning sensation across his face. "Take me home," Clarisse firmly stated, pushing him out of her way. She hastened down the steps, and escorted her own self into the back of the waiting limo.

'Well, at least she's getting back to her normal self,' he thought, following behind her slowly. 'This will be one long ride home.'