I’ve never been in a chartered plane hangar before, but I try not to act like it. I try to restrain myself from gazing around like an idiot… at the shiny jet, the staff who is waiting to meet us, and the carpet that is rolled out for us to walk on.

Holy crap. Is this seriously how famous people live?

Nonchalantly, I follow Dominic up the steps and onto the plane, trying my best to seem blasé. But as Dominic turns to ask me which leather sofa I’d like to sit on, I can see his eyes twinkling, and he knows. He knows that I’m way over my head. But I still don’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

“Anywhere,” I shrug. “They all look the same.” As in, they’re all expensive, soft-as-butter Italian leather. Dominic grins.

“Okay,” he shrugs back. “We’ll take that one. Amy can have the other.”

“Amy?” I raise my eyebrow. Dominic looks surprised.

“Did I forget to tell you? Amy Ashby is in Chicago right now. She’s sharing this jet with us.”

I feel a monster-sized weight form on my chest and I swallow hard.

“Uh, yeah. I guess you did forget to mention that part.” I’m going to be riding with one of the biggest actresses on the planet, and not only that, but she’s notoriously bitchy. Super.

Dominic stares at me curiously as he sits, pulling me down next to him. “Is that a problem? I’m sorry that I forgot to tell you. I just found out myself last night.”

I shake my head. “No, of course it’s not a problem. I’m good.”

I’m not good. My legs are shaking again, and that pisses me off. No one is better than you, I remind myself. She’s famous, not better. I’m practically muttering to myself as I settle in beside Dominic, automatically resenting that he’s so calm and cool.

But he’s used to this. He’s used to fancy planes and Hollywood stars and people being at his beck and call. I take a deep breath. I might not be used to it, but I’ve got this. I can do this. I turn to him.

“So, how much will you have to shoot this weekend? I’ve heard horror stories about how sometimes shooting can go on all day and night.”

Dominic chuckles. “It all depends. But right now, we’re doing bits and pieces, the smaller scenes. We won’t get into the meat of the movie until I’m back in LA for good. I’m a character actor, so it’s hard for me to bury myself in my role when I have to keep flying back and forth between Chicago and LA.”

“And your studio is okay with that?” I ask dubiously.

He starts to answer, but is interrupted by a female voice.

“They might be, but I’m not,” Amy Ashby snaps as she hauls herself onto the plane with a little yappy dog in her arms. She’s spindly skinny with giant boobs that must be fake. “This is bullshit, Dom. Serious bullshit.”

Dominic turns to me, rolls his eyes, then turns back to Amy with a sigh. “Hey, Amy. So good to see you.”

I want to giggle at his resigned tone and the outraged look on her heavily made-up face, but I don’t. Something tells me that wouldn’t be the best first impression.

She stares at me with narrowed eyes, extremely interested all of a sudden. “Who’s this?”

“My friend Jacey,” Dominic answers easily, sitting back in the seat with his arm looped loosely behind me. I enjoy the sense of security that brings me, the warmth from his arm. It’s like an anchor in a sea of unfamiliar shit.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her politely. “I love your work.”

She sniffs, looking down her nose at me before she deposits her tiny dog on the seat and turns to the flight attendant. “I need some water for Pichachu. He only drinks Acqua Panna. If you don’t have any, you’re going to need to find some before we take off.” She turns away without waiting for the attendant to reply, and I can’t help but chuckle because her dog’s name sounds like a sneeze.

“Why are you coming?” she asks me bluntly as she settles the dog on her lap, stroking its puffy hair. “The set will be closed.”

“Since when?” Dominic asked her sharply. “I didn’t request that.”

“I did,” Amy stares at him. “Well, I’m going to. I don’t need your little girlfriend watching our sex scenes.” She levels a brilliant blue gaze at me, and I’m astounded at her hostility when I haven’t even done anything to her.

Jesus. What a bitch. She’s an even bigger nightmare than I thought she’d be. Dominic chuckles humorlessly as Amy crosses her skinny legs and stares at him.

“It’s not like we actually have sex, Amy, on or off set. But whatever. Do what you need to do.” Amy’s cheeks flush and she turns away, lifting her nose in the air.

Dominic turns to me. “You can either hang out in my trailer or you can stay at my house by the pool. Either way, you’ll have a good time. I promise.”

He puts his hand on my leg now, possessively, and he stares back at Amy. She can’t help but stare back at him, and I’m not sure exactly what he’s trying to convey, but whatever it is, it’s effective. She’s effectively pissed.

“Whatever, Dom. You know that’s not true. You and I both know it.”

Her words are icy and laced with venom. Dominic won’t show you a good time. That’s what she means.

But Dominic ignores her. He stares at me instead, angling his body so that he’s blocking her completely out.

“I’ve got some things planned,” he tells me conversationally. “I think you’ll like them.” I hear Amy sniff, but she doesn’t remark.

“I’m sure I will, too,” I answer. I take note that his hand is still on my thigh, his fingers lightly gripping me. “Can I have a hint?”

Dominic smiles, leaning down to whisper into my ear. “What did you pack to wear?”

I stare at him, but before I can answer, he continues, “Because you won’t be needing it.”

I gulp, then smile. “Maybe.” I shrug. “We’ll see.”

He smiles knowingly. “Oh, we’ll see.” He chuckles again, and the dangerous glint is back in his eyes. The one that I love. It means I’m going to like whatever comes next.

“I brought you something,” he tells me quietly. “It’ll help pass the time on the flight.”

I stare at him. “Something tells me it’s not a crossword puzzle.”

Dominic laughs, his teeth gleaming white. “Uh, no. It’s a million times better.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a little nondescript box. Leaning forward, he whispers into my ear again, his breath warm on my cheek. “I like kinky things. Dirty things. Is that a problem?”

I suck my breath in. Kinky things? Regardless of my trepidation, I smile.

“I’ll try anything once,” I murmur.

He grins the grin of the devil. “Good. Go to the bathroom. Put this in.”

In?

I stare at him again, half in shock, half eager to see. I hold out my hand, a thrill shooting through me as he hands it to me.

“Trust me,” he whispers with a wink.

Oh yeah, right. Trust him. For some reason, I can practically see Lucifer himself saying the same thing with the same expression on his face. In all honesty, Lucifer might be safer than Dominic.

Regardless, I make my way to the bathroom in the back of the plane and lock the door behind me so I can open the box in peace.

As I slide the lid off, I suck in a breath. Lying in the white tissue paper, there’s a silver bullet–looking thing, shining in the dim light of the bathroom. I pick it up and it’s heavy and cool in my fingers. There aren’t any instructions, but I instinctively know where it’s supposed to go.

Where it’s supposed to go in.

Good Lord. I feel a moment of panic, but then calm myself. He might be Dominic fucking Kinkaide, but I’m Jacey fucking Vincent and I’m not scared of anything. I’ve got this. I’ve so got this.

I like new things, damn it.

With trembling fingers, I pull down my shorts and my panties and insert the silver bullet, nestling it up to where it needs to be. Inside of me. I suck in another breath as the cold metal slides in.