The Flyboy's Temptation

by Kimberly Van Meter

  “Does anyone speak English?” J.T. asked, looking for anyone who might be willing to serve as a guide. “Anyone?”

  Murmurs rippled through the group as they each turned to one another. Then they motioned a young man to come forward.

  “We need a guide to get us back to a city with an airport,” Hope said, offering a friendly smile. “We can compensate anyone who offers to help.”

  J.T. shot Hope a quelling look that warned, Don’t go mentioning money in a place where 80 percent of the population live well beneath the poverty line and eat dirt cookies for breakfast, but she knew offering something of value was the only way they’d get them to budge.

  A young teen with an oily shock of black hair hanging in his face spoke up. “I speak English,” he said, pushing his hair from his dark eyes. “There’s an airport in Comitán, about a four-hour drive from here.”

  “What village is this?” J.T. asked.

  “Lacanjá.”

  “Lacanjá,” Hope murmured, looking to J.T. “So we are on the southern edge of Mexico, near Guatemala?”

  “Fair assumption.”

  “What’s your name?” Hope asked the young man.

  “Juan,” the teen answered. “Welcome to our village. Are you hungry or thirsty?”

  “Starved,” Hope answered, her stomach grumbling. “Is there someplace we could get something to eat?”

  “Sí, Campamento Vicente Paniagua—you will like.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Hope said, looking for confirmation from J.T. When he gave her a short nod, she fell in line behind Juan, so grateful to be heading someplace somewhat civilized.

  Maybe if they were lucky, they could be back in the air and back on schedule by tomorrow morning.

  And then she could shelve these intrusive thoughts of hard pecs, solid thighs and the feeling of J.T.’s arms wrapped around her.

  5

  TO HIS SURPRISE and Hope’s delight, Campamento Vicente Paniagua was a nice little place that actually catered to ecotourists eager to experience something a little more adventurous yet still retain the comforts of home, such as running water and toilets.

  And they took credit cards, which was a huge relief, as he hadn’t exactly been able to grab his wallet before the mad dash to avoid getting killed and Hope immediately pulled out her company American Express.

  “You ain’t kidding about the deep pockets,” he said, gesturing to the black American Express card. “Not many companies hand those out to their employees.”

  “I’m not just any employee.”

  “I gathered that.” He dug into his plate of black beans and rice, never so happy in his life to stuff his mouth with the simple staple, but that first bite was nothing short of exquisite. Hope did the same, actually groaning with pleasure as she chewed. At the sound, J.T.’s overactive imagination was only too happy to supply alternate ways to make her moan. Cut it out, Carmichael. Eat your beans. And whatever you do, don’t dwell on the fact that you haven’t stopped thinking about that damn pink-heart bra covering those sweet breasts.

  He actually choked a little, attracting Hope’s attention, but he betrayed nothing that would give away the thoughts running like dirty monkeys through his mind.

  “Juan said it will take a day to find a truck to take us to Comitán, but in the meantime we can stay at the Ecolodge. He assured us that the accommodations are very good. I told him as long as it has a bed and a bathroom, I’m grateful.”

  “Now that we’re not jumping off cliffs and dodging bullets, I can take a moment to appreciate the natural beauty of this place,” she said, as if they were just vacationing Americans.

  Juan reappeared with an eager-to-please grin and gestured to them. “Your room is ready,” he said, adding helpfully, “Honeymoon suite.”

  “Oh!” Hope’s eyes widened, immediately looking to J.T. for backup, but he was actually glad for the single room. Although the risk was smaller with an obviously tourism-oriented village, he figured there was safety in numbers. Particularly for a beautiful redhead with legs for days.

  The harsh truth was that human trafficking was alive and well in Mexico, and the sexy scientist would certainly turn heads.

  “That’ll be fine,” he said, shocking Hope with his agreement.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered. “I think I can afford to spring for two rooms.”

  “That’s not the point. Safety in numbers. We’re not in Idaho.”

  His meaning sank in and Hope nodded with dawning understanding. “That’ll be very nice, Juan,” she said, giving him a few American dollars from her pack. “Please show us to our room. I’m ready for a bath and a soft bed.”

  Juan led them to the Ecolodge and J.T. was suitably impressed with how clean and resort-like the accommodations were. Thank God for Americans’ need for comfort.

  They walked into the honeymoon suite and immediately they both centered on the huge bed dominating the room with the gauzy mosquito net draped over it.

  It was Hope who spoke first. “We’re adults. I think we’re capable of sharing a bed without dissolving into teenage fits of giggles and awkward silence,” she said, though he got the distinct impression she wasn’t saying it for only his benefit.

  “All I’ve got on my mind is sleep,” he drawled with practiced nonchalance, but couldn’t help but add with a cheeky grin, “However, I’m not opposed to cuddling.”

  Hope immediately scowled even as her cheeks flushed. “There will be no cuddling,” she told him. “We need to keep things professional.”

  “Do you always live your life by so many rules?” he asked, curious to get a peek inside that brainy head of hers. “Or do you ever do anything a little off the rails for fun?”

  “I have plenty of fun,” she retorted stiffly. “I just don’t see the value in muddying a business relationship with momentary pleasure. That’s the problem with people today—they immediately jump into bed with someone before considering the full consequence.”

  “Sometimes you just have to go with the moment,” he said with a shrug. “See where it’ll take you.”

  “I know exactly where it’ll take me,” she said with a disapproving stare that could rival a Catholic-school nun’s. “Which is exactly why I’m not going to succumb to something as ephemeral as what can be perceived as attraction.”

  “There you go throwing around scientific facts again. I don’t care what your lab partners have told you—that ain’t sexy.”

  “Good.” Hope firmed her lips as if she didn’t want to explain herself, but prepared to do so, anyway. “Shared intense experiences can create a false sense of attraction that is often misconstrued as something deeper,” she said, lifting her chin.

  “So you keep saying,” he said. “Care to put your theory to the test?”

  Now why’d you go and poke the bear? The reasonable section of his brain was reminding him that pushing the sexy scientist beyond her comfort zone was a bad idea. But he rarely listened to anything coming out of that part of his brain, so why start now?

  Maybe it was a shorted-out fuse or maybe it was the circumstance, but Hope, standing there, chin lifted, eyes flashing and damp hair still dripping, was doing something dirty to his thought process.

  She’d felt pretty damn perfect in his arms under the waterfall. Every rounded curve and soft valley had pressed nicely against everything that was hard on him, and he was hungry for a little more of that sassy redhead.

  And he didn’t really care what was prompting it.

  Be it science or otherwise.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” she stammered, her eyes widening as he walked slowly toward her. Backing away, she tried protesting, “And it’s not a theory—it’s a proven scientific fact. Adrenaline can create a false attraction that’s difficult to—” She stopped abruptly when her bac
k hit the wall and a tiny gasp escaped her mouth.

  “So prove it,” he said in a low tone, trapping her within the space of his arms. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re adorable when you’re speechless?” J.T. brushed a kiss across her slightly open lips. “And damn near irresistible?”

  “Wh-why are you doing this?” she managed to ask in a breathy tone that was more anticipatory than frightened and made his groin tighten. “We agreed to keep things professional.”

  “Yes, but as you can plainly see, things have changed significantly since we struck that bargain. And now it might be time to renegotiate.”

  He knew he ought to knock it off, and in truth, he’d started this just to mess with her, but now that he was in her space, he had lust rockets going off in his brain and he wasn’t ready to stop.

  “And what makes you think I’m open to negotiating?” she asked, trembling, her chin lifting.

  “Darlin’, if you don’t stop looking at me like I’m your next meal, all that we’ll be negotiating is where we’re going to seal the deal,” he said, unable to stop from leaning in, tasting her lips, wanting more. She groaned and opened her mouth to him, which was like tossing gasoline on a spark. Their tongues tangled and danced, sliding against each another. He slid his hands down to grab her wrists and pinned them to the wall, holding her in place as he continued to plunder her mouth.

  She gasped against his mouth when he wedged his knee between her thighs, putting pressure on her mound, and the heat against his leg was enough to set him on fire.

  “This isn’t real,” Hope groaned.

  “Feels pretty real to me,” he growled against her mouth as he pulled her away from the wall, loving how her eyes were glazed and her hair was wild. She looked like a B-movie warrior princess with all that gorgeous red hair and those sweet curves, and he couldn’t wait to start their own version of an X-rated flick.

  Her pupils dilated and her tongue darted as she began to breathe heavily, unable to disagree. “These things can be...hard to tell the difference...” she managed to say, but the look in her eyes told a different story.

  He walked her to the bed, his gaze never leaving hers, and when she didn’t protest or try to stop him, he didn’t hesitate to claim what he shouldn’t. His entire body was taut with need. He’d never felt so desperate to be inside a woman in his life. His hands shook as he lifted her skirt over her hips and laid her on the bed, sucking in a tight breath.

  Sweet heaven...

  Tiny pink hearts that matched her bra danced across her pubic mound and he couldn’t help himself. Lifting her to his lips, he kissed each heart, inhaling the sweet musk of her feminine folds, teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties until she was groaning and lifting her hips higher with desperate mewls of frustration.

  J.T. knew how to tease a woman until she was crying out, desperate for his cock, but it was hard to remember all his practice-made-perfect skills with Hope. There was something about her that made him feel like an inexperienced teen, fumbling around, blind as a bat and just as clueless as to what to do with a woman.

  He groaned as the heavy ache in his balls intensified, the lust pounding his brain obliterating any rational thought. As much as he’d love to think he could spend the next hour teasing Hope with his tongue, his own impatience to taste her, to know her unique flavor, shoved any sexual finesse right out the door.

  Ripping her panties off, he gazed at her sweet core, wet with desire, and he wasted no time in sinking between her legs to feast on that tasty jewel.

  Hope cried out, her hands clutching at the thin bedspread as her legs quivered, her belly trembling as she succumbed with a gasp that turned him on more than he’d ever thought possible.

  “Oh, my God,” she whimpered when she could breathe again.

  But that was just the appetizer and he was ready for the main course.

  * * *

  HOPE COULDN’T FOCUS. How could one orgasm zap her brain like an EMP blast? She’d heard stories of women who had such powerful orgasms that they were left stupid afterward, but she’d never truly believed them.

  She was a believer now!

  Good gravy, she was a believer.

  J.T. slowly unzipped his jeans and the thick shaft of his cock was outlined in his boxer briefs, causing her mouth to water. She wanted to taste him as he’d tasted her.

  But the look in his eyes was the thing that really caused her bones to melt. Never in her life had anyone looked at her that way—as if she were the most desirable, most beautiful, most intoxicating woman he’d ever seen.

  And in that moment, she would’ve given him anything.

  She rolled to her belly and slowly rose up on her knees, glancing coyly over her shoulder as he gazed hungrily, his hands reaching for her ass to squeeze the firm flesh.

  “Like what you see?” she teased, which only intensified the heat between them.

  “You have no idea,” he returned, his voice tight and incredibly sexy, like everything else about the man. He gripped her hips and pulled her to him with one sharp movement, popping a gasp from her lips as he wasted no time in sinking into her body, plunging deep inside, going straight to the hilt, filling her completely.

  Helpless to escape the mounting pressure building inside her, Hope gasped against the insane, mindless pleasure as J.T. continued to plunge inside her, over and over, wild and insatiable.

  There was nothing but heat between them. Raging, inescapable, totally destructive fire.

  And she gladly surrendered to every lick of the flame.

  Blinding stars exploded in her brain as every muscle contracted in unison, tensing to the point of delicious pain, and she knew this kind of pleasure could be addicting.

  J.T. was the kind of guy who could twist a woman in a pretzel with his sexual prowess, but would leave her crying in the end.

  But at that moment, she didn’t care.

  The feel of J.T. filling her, stretching her, demanding everything she had and more...it was intoxicating.

  She barely registered J.T.’s shout as he came, his thrusts becoming fierce and erratic as he poured himself into her until they both collapsed, breathing hard and unable to speak for several minutes.

  Hope rolled to her back, staring unseeing at the gauzy mosquito netting. “That was...not natural.”

  J.T. laughed and rose to his elbow to regard her with a smile in his eyes. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “At least you’re honest.”

  She exhaled a pent-up breath and tried to slow her heart rate. What happened now? How were they supposed to go back to being professional when they’d just rocked each other’s socks off?

  “You’re overthinking things,” he told her, smoothing the sudden wrinkle in her brow as the questions started to come at her from all angles. “It’s just sex.”

  Hope rose and scooted away from him, needing space to think. “Of course it’s just sex,” she said, her voice a little high to be believable. “I’m fully aware of that. I just... Well, I don’t make a habit of sleeping with random guys for the sake of just having sex.”

  His smile faltered and he voiced a sudden concern that should’ve been addressed before their clothes had flown off. “Please tell me you’re on birth control...”

  “Why is it always the woman who has to think of these things?” she shot back, irritated, not at his question, because it was a fair question, but because she hadn’t had the self-control to ignore the white-hot attraction between them, whether it was induced by their circumstances or not. “And yes, I’m on birth control, so you can stop panicking.”

  “Thank God.”

  Hope sent him a short glare and scooted off the bed. She needed a shower and time to get her head on straight.

  “Where are you going?” he
asked.

  “I need a minute to figure things out.”

  “What’s to figure out? Why overthink things?”

  She faced him. “That’s your problem, J.T. You don’t stop to think about anything. You’re impulsive and reckless, but I’m not. I think things through. I look before I leap. I make pros-and-cons lists for every major decision and this thing that just happened between us is not part of my carefully orchestrated plan.”

  “Well, honey, sometimes life doesn’t play out the way we want,” he said, glaring. “Sometimes being impulsive and reckless, as you put it, opens up our world to a whole new array of possibilities that we never would’ve seen if we hadn’t been forced to look around.”

  Hope didn’t know why she was so out of sorts. It wasn’t the first time she’d had sex with someone outside a relationship. Contrary to what was spilling from her mouth, she’d had one-night stands—not many, though—and walked away without an ounce of shame afterward.

  But there was something about J.T. that put her off her game, sent her spiraling off-kilter, and it scared her.

  It scared her more than the fact that someone was trying to steal her work and potentially threaten the entire human race.

  Yeah, Hope. You’ve got your priorities straight.

  She stomped her foot in agitation with herself, but glared at J.T. because she couldn’t think of what else to do, and then slammed the bathroom door shut behind her.

  Mature. Real mature.

  Hope leaned against the bathroom door, embarrassed and unsure of how to handle herself.

  So how were they supposed to sleep next to each other now?

  6

  J.T. LISTENED TO the sound of the shower on the other side of the thin door and tried not to fixate on the desire to join Hope.

  Maybe in hindsight it wasn’t a smart idea to sleep with your client.

  He could just hear his brother lecturing him already. For Christ’s sake, keep your dick in your pants! Or something along those lines.