by KB Winters
I smiled at her, still marveling at how calm she was after everything I’d just told her.
“And you don’t want to get your friend…the smuggler guy in trouble…that’s why you aren’t going to call his bluff on that part?” Gemma asked, returning her—now dry—hand to the back of mine.
“Yeah, that would be shitty of me. O’Keefe is my problem. Besides that, Rick has done me some favors, not of the illegal variety, but it would be a smack in the face if I turned on him.”
Gemma nodded. Her eyes dropped to our hands and I could see the wheels turning in her mind.
“You know what, let’s talk about something else,” I said, pivoting the conversation. I needed something more light hearted. “Tell me what made you join the Army. Were you a military brat?”
Gemma met my eyes again, her eyes bluer than grey in the natural light streaming through the window beside our table. “Yeah. Both of my parents were Army, actually. That’s how they met. Right after basic.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. It’s a crazy story. They divorced a couple years after my younger sister was born, but they stayed friends,” she continued. “They both encouraged me to join the military, mainly for the education benefits since I wanted to go to medical school, which is crazy expensive.”
I laughed. “Makes sense to me.”
“What about you? Your dad was Navy, and then your mother? What did she do? Besides cook awesome food?”
I stared at Gemma, blown away that she’d remembered the small detail I’d shared in the hospital. “She was a secretary at a law office. Up until she got sick. Then she had to quit so she could go through treatment. That was rough on her.”
“I’m sorry, Aaron. When did she pass away?”
“The summer before I turned fifteen. So just about fifteen years ago.” I paused, struck by how close I was to hitting my thirtieth birthday. “Anyway, after that, I had to stay with friends or relatives every time my dad went on deployment and spent the rest of the time on a naval base, raising hell.” I chuckled.
“I bet.” Gemma smiled at me as she took another sip from her tall glass of dark beer. “I saw the tats…when you were in the ER.”
I nodded, a dangerous smile tugging at my lips. “You like what you saw?”
Gemma blushed slightly and it turned me on. I’d finally gotten to her. She’d so effortlessly batted away all my previous attempts at flirting with her, it was entertaining to have struck a soft spot.
“Ha! You did. What about you? Any tats?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m pretty boring, I guess.”
“Hardly.”
She ducked her chin and I grinned all the more.
Half a heartbeat later, she looked up, a renewed fire in her eyes. “The other night, when I was there with you and your friends for dinner, he called you ‘Player’. Ya wanna tell me what that’s all about?” Gemma grinned at me and ran her finger around the rim of her empty glass.
Damn it if she didn’t flip the tables on me.
“Shit. You heard that, huh?” I ran a hand along my scruff coated jawline.
“Uh-huh.” She licked her lips. “So spill. What’s the story? I know those call signs aren’t just given out for no good reason, and I’m pretty sure there’s a bang up story behind yours.” Her eyes were bright and sparkled.
“All right, all right.” I hesitated. It wasn’t like me to shy away from a good story, but the story behind my call wasn’t exactly one that painted me in the light I wanted Gemma to see me in. “Like all the best stories…it started with a bet.”
“Oh Lord,” Gemma said, giggling slightly as she rolled her eyes.
“This Chief Petty Officer bet me that I couldn’t bag the Admiral’s daughter. She was this prissy, high society girl, and I was this young rebellious type. A match made in hell, right?” I paused, carefully considering my next words. “Well, I got her, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Gemma echoed, laughing.
I grinned. “Well, it turned into this game. Guys would bet me that I couldn’t get a certain girl. I’d prove them wrong and take their money. So, I became “Player.”
“Just like Vegas,” Gemma teased, not a hint of disgust on her face. Instead, her eyes sparkled and glowed with amusement. “Did this game have a name?”
“Shit…I should have known you’d ask that…”
“Come on, fess up Rosen.”
“Fuck ‘Em By Friday". Which, incidentally, was the only rule. As long as I…fulfilled that…I’d win and collect.”
She dissolved into uncontrollable giggles and I rolled my eyes playfully. “That’s all you’re gonna get out of me for now. You know all my secrets.”
Gemma smiled and my heart kicked up another few beats per minute. Her hand was still on mine and her thumb had started tracing little circles on the ridge of knuckles.
“You wanna get out of here?” I asked, leaning in close enough that our faces were only a few inches apart.
Gemma smiled. “Time for my tour?”
“I know the perfect place to start.”
24
“Can we go see the planes?” Gemma asked when we got up the long drive to my house.
I cut a glance toward the museum. The protesters had disappeared, but something told me they’d be back full force in the morning. Possibly in greater numbers and even more rapid if O’Keefe was the one paying them to show up every day. I had no doubt that he’d kick up the pressure every day until the third day when I was due to sign over the museum.
“I understand if you don’t want to…” Gemma added, at my hesitation.
“No, no. It’s fine. Let’s go.” I turned off the Jeep and hopped out, hustling as best as I could to let her out, but by the time I reached her door, she’d already let herself out.
“You know this is an Army Jeep, don’t you?” She said, grinning as she considered my ride.
I laughed. “I’m aware.”
“What’s a Navy boy like you, doing with an Army toy like this?”
“I like Army toys…” I replied slowly, letting my words curl and twist into a seductive drawl.
Gemma stepped closer. “Oh, really?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She had no idea what she was getting herself into. The more she dangled herself in front of me, the more I wanted her, and the hotter it was going to be when I finally got her in my bed.
I brought my mouth down, ready to kiss her for the first time, but at the last second, she tugged away and stepped back, out of my reach.
Her little bob and weave made me want her more.
“Come along. Your tourist is getting antsy,” she called back to me as she sauntered off across the gravel drive. I hung back another moment, salivating over the way her ass swayed with each stride. Her walk wasn’t something she’d practiced or put together in an effort to seduce and distract. But damn it if it didn’t have that effect all on its own. She wore a tight pair of dark jeans and a fitted tank top that displayed her curves to perfection, and it took every ounce of strength to tear my eyes from her perky ass and catch up to her.
It was nice to walk through the front doors of the museum—a small luxury I hadn’t been able to take since the pack of protesters had shown up. I unlocked one of the double doors and held it open for Gemma. She glided past me, just close enough for our body heat to mingle, starting a slow fire that would lead to a roar by the time the night was over.
“Wow!” Gemma breathed, spinning a complete 360 in the foyer. The sun was still out and bathed the museum in soft, natural light through the large paned windows all along the perimeter.
“I always like the way they look in daylight. You know, the way they’d look in a field, ready for takeoff, before an epic battle,” I mused, walking to run my hand over the shiny exterior of a World War Two Japanese Zero that I’d restored six months ago.
“It’s incredible, Aaron. I don’t know where to start,” she replied, her eyes scanning the room hungrily.
“
Well then, it’s a good thing I’m the tour guide,” I said, tossing her a wink. I offered her my arm and she looped her arm through it, resting her hand on my forearm.
“A very good thing.”
I led her through the entire place, just as I would any other client, telling her about each plane, answering all of her questions, and then looped back around to show her the virtual reality booths where visitors could pay to fight an air battle taken straight from the history books. The technology was top of the line and incredibly realistic.
“Where did you get these? They’re amazing!” Gemma asked, pausing in the room where the simulators were stationed.
“A buddy of mine developed the technology after he got out of the Air Force. When he was testing it, he spent a lot of time here, taking notes on different planes, and because of all my help, he gave me a screaming deal on installing two of these babies. They became so popular that I had to add two more and I still have a waiting list most days. Each simulation runs for half an hour, some of them longer, and I charge fifteen bucks a pop. They’ve made back their cost tenfold in the last year. People love them.”
“Smart.” Gemma broke away and went to get a closer look. Each seat was a replica of an actual cockpit, with a complete instrument panel, and a large, high-resolution screen hanging in front, which, when in action, would project the images of the flight. She spun around and grinned at me. “Whatcha say, Rosen? You wanna play chicken?”
I laughed. “You sure you’re ready to take on the big boys?”
She nodded enthusiastically, her grin spreading wider.
“Okay. Wanna bet on it?”
“Hmmm. Depends. What’s the wager?”
“Well…we could bet clothing…” I drawled.
“Strip chicken?” She wrinkled her nose.
I roared with laughter at the combination of her expression and the odd title. “Let’s come up with something sexier than that…”
She giggled. “Well…I’m game…whatever you wanna call it.”
“Excellent.” Shivers of anticipation ravaged my body. I couldn’t wait to see that tight little body unwrapped from her clothes. “I’ll fire it up.”
With fumbling fingers, I loaded a scenario on two of the simulators. I got Gemma set up at her screen, even going so far as to lock her into the flight harness as though it were an actual flight. Mostly, it was an excuse to get my fingers on her. She shivered when my fingers ran across her thighs as I hooked the final belt. “You ready?” I asked, my voice low and husky.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, her voice just as throaty.
It took every ounce of self-control not to jump her right there. I pulled away and went back to my simulator, tapped in some controls, and took my own seat. “Okay, there will be a tutorial first, a practice if you will, so that you’ll learn to run the controls, and then it will start the battle.”
“Got it.” I looked over as she braced her hands on the controls and began to read the instructions flashing on the screen.
Within minutes, the battle was on, and the room filled with the realistic booms and pounds of the fight, as well as the curses and cheers from Gemma and me, depending on who was winning.
When it was over, I stared at the screen blankly. She’d won. And not only that, but she’d also kicked my ass.
I untangled myself from the belt and met her at her simulator. She spun her chair around to face me, an ear-to-ear grin lighting up her face in the dimly lit room. “Okay, missy, fess up. You’ve flown before!”
She shrugged innocently. “I may have taken a few lessons…you know…here and there.”
I growled.
She tapped a finger on her lips. “I think the shirt should go first.”
I chuckled. Oh, I was going to make her pay.
I reached for the bottom of my shirt and lifted it up and over my head, moving in slow motion to reveal every inch. When I finally pulled it over the cast, it dangled from one finger and then fell to the floor. Gemma’s eyes went wide as she roved over my bare skin. I noted her eyes following the lines of all the ink on my right side as it wrapped and swirled up my side, over my chest, and around to my back in one giant piece that had taken over a year to complete.
“Very nice. Next round?” She purred.
“All right, but this time I’m not taking it easy on you. Little cheat…”
She laughed and spun around to face her screen again. I came up beside her and leaned over to start the next program, taking my time with my skin inches away from her.
I loaded a shorter simulation for the second round, my patience running thin. I wanted her topless. Like yesterday.
“Mother fuck…” I growled when it was over.
She’d done it again.
Gemma laughed and the sound floated over to me and made it hard to stay mad. “Pants this time, Rosen. Drop ‘em.”
I stalked back over to her, pushed out of my runners, and left my socks on as I unbuttoned my jeans and shoved them down, leaving me in nothing but my boxer briefs and socks.
“Hot,” she said, giggling.
“You’re going down this time,” I warned her, stalking back to her simulator to set the next round.
As I leaned over her, loading the next game, she let her hand run down my side, tracing the ink and stopped at the waist of my boxers. “We’ll see about that. You might be the one headed down south…” she purred.
Holy shit. The woman was going to give me a heart attack.
Before she could continue her teasing, I turned and captured her lips with my mouth. The hint of her dark beer was still lingering there and I drank her in. She wrapped an arm around me and I braced myself with my good arm on the arm of her chair and using my casted hand to wrap around her waist, I pulled her closer.
Gemma moaned as I used the tip of my tongue to spread her lips and sucked in the heat of her tongue. The kiss deepened and I tipped her head back, using the tips of my fingers to pull at the base of her hair. When she was panting and clinging to me, I broke away, and grinned down at her. “Let’s take the tour to the next stop…”
“Not so fast, Rosen,” she breathed. With a tug at the waist of my boxers she glanced up at me. “I need one more round?”
I groaned. “Then we need to up the ante…”
“Really?” She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “I guess you are the player.”
I laughed. “Cute.”
“So, what’s the bet?”
“All or nothing,” I said, letting my gaze fall down her body.
“Hmm. Hardly seems fair…I only have one more to win and I’ll get all anyway.”
“Not necessarily. I could drag it out. I still got these,” I said, wiggling my socked toes.
She rolled her eyes but smiled wider. “All right. You got yourself a deal. All or nothing. Fire it up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Within minutes, I was back in my pilot’s chair, every cylinder firing. I had to win.
Defeat was not an option.
“Oh my God! No!”
I burst into a laugh at Gemma’s wail. “That’s right, baby. Come on. Strip.”
I whirled in my chair and watched her slump over her instrument panel, still staring up at the screen that declared me as the winner of our third and final battle. She rallied quickly and popped up out of her seat.
Gemma strode to the center of the small room, just as she’d made me do, and began a slow strip that—if I didn’t know better—would have made me wonder if she’d stripped her way through med school. Every glance, every move, was sexy as hell and even without music, she had a hypnotic rhythm that had my heart racing.
She crossed her arms in front of her and teased me with the slow reveal of her flat stomach, pulling it up and over in slow motion, a teasing look in her eyes. When it was off, she dropped it to her feet, and smiled as she spun around, rolling her hips so her ass made tight circles, before unlatching the back of her simple, black bra. She pivoted again when it was undo
ne and let the straps slide down her arms. I licked my lips, waiting for her to reveal what I already knew were the world’s two most perfect tits.
“Come on, baby, you’re killing me over here,” I told her, my cock screaming for her to hurry up her slow torture. I needed her back in my arms, her skin against mine.
“Are you always this impatient?” she teased, clasping the silky looking cups against her skin.
“Pretty much. You’ll get used to it.”
She laughed and dropped her head back. When she brought her eyes back to mine, they were glowing. Alive with fire and lust and desire.
She dropped the bra and I stifled a groan.
Fuck, she was even sexier than I’d imagined in my head.
Which was a rare thing.
Her breasts were perfect tear drops with perky, pink nipples that I couldn’t wait to wrap my tongue around. Her waist flared out in a gentle, sloping curve, and when her fingers unzipped her jeans, I sucked in a breath and didn’t release it until she was shimmying her jeans down to her feet.
She kicked out of her flats and the jeans and straightened, shaking her hips to the music in her head. Her panties were much more risqué than her bra. A band of dark lace wrapped around, low on her hips, and when she spun around, it went down the crack of her beautiful round ass, giving me a dizzying view. The lace was dark, but I’d have been willing to bet she was wet and ready.
“Come here,” I said, my voice low, as I reached out my good arm for her.
She strutted forward in tantalizing slow motion, her hips rocking back and forth with each step, and she stopped a few inches from my slightly parted knees. I spread my legs open wide and tugged at her bare hips to get her as close as possible. Her eyes went wide when she dropped them to my raging hard-on.
I dipped a finger down her stomach and toyed with the waist of her panties. Gemma sucked in a breath and I pushed past the thin layer to discover that I’d been right.
She was dripping.
“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath, running my finger over her smooth, wet pussy lips.
She shuddered at my touch and I needed more. I hooked my fingers on the panties and pulled them down her legs. She assisted at the end and stepped out of them, leaving herself vulnerable and naked before me. “Gemma, you are perfection.”
