And then I felt his free hand gliding up my inner thigh, teasing the hem of my dress. My legs parted and a sigh escaped my lips. He slipped under the fabric, walking his fingers up, higher and higher, until he reached between my legs, strumming my clit through the silky fabric, rubbing against the wetness already gathering there.
“What color are they?” he asked, his voice husky, vibrating with need.
“Red.” I struggled over the word, struggled to breathe.
“Describe them.”
My voice shook. “They’re soft. Sensitive against my skin.”
He continued stroking me, his gaze intense. We were on the side of the road, and while there wasn’t much traffic, anyone could drive by and see. My dress was down, but if anyone looked at his hands, at my face . . .
“Keep going.”
“They’re . . .” Ohmigod. He was going to get me off, somewhere between Bradbury and Columbia. I was so close, so . . .
“You’re so wet. So slippery. So warm. I bet I could just slide my fingers inside you.”
“Yes.”
“You want to come, don’t you?”
I bit down on my lip, feeling panicky and aroused, and sofreakingclose.
“Yes. Please.”
His thumb stayed on my clit, his fingers hooking under the silk and thrusting inside with one smooth glide.
“Fuck,” he hissed, a groan escaping his lips. “I can’t wait to get inside you.”
Me, either. Did we really need to do dinner? We could eat later. Much later.
The force of his thrusts increased, his thumb playing me expertly, and then I was coming, gripping the seat, my body bucking beneath his touch. When I’d finally come down from the high, he slid out of me, his gaze on me as he sucked me off his fingers, his eyes dark.
I died. Again.
We just sat there for a minute, neither one of us talking, the sound of our harsh breaths filling the car.
Finally he took a deep breath, gathering himself and maneuvering the car back onto the highway. I went someplace else, my head reduced to colors, sounds, the feel of the wind on my face, the lingering pulse between my legs. Nothing and everything. The music playing on the stereo filled the silence between us until Eric spoke again, his voice stripped of its usual cockiness, as though he’d been sanded down.
“You didn’t ask me what I was doing the other half of the night.”
I couldn’t follow the conversation we’d just had, couldn’t gather my own thoughts.
“What?”
“On our first date. I told you I spent half the night fantasizing about you. You didn’t ask me what I was doing the other half.”
I grinned, feeling a little drunk on him. “Do I really want to know?”
Whatever I’d imagined, his answer definitely wasn’t what I’d expected.
“I was falling in love with you.”
SEVENTEEN
THOR
It was, hands down, the best date I’d ever been on. It wasn’t just that she was hot, the way she leaned over the table, thrusting her tits forward, inspiring quite a few fantasies that kept me turned on and fighting an erection throughout the night. Or how good it had felt to make her come in the car earlier. More than anything, it was the simple fact that I’d never been able to talk to anyone the way I could talk to her. Never felt as comfortable with anyone as I did with her.
I’d forgotten that. Or maybe not forgotten it, but forgotten how much I’d counted on it, how much she’d been an integral part of my life, like a limb I’d been missing all this time. Forgotten what it felt like to be with someone who knew you better than anyone.
I’d been nervous to talk to her about my job, worried that it was the white elephant between us considering how much of a wedge it had created in our relationship, but surprisingly I found myself telling her how I felt when I flew, about the deployments, and the friends I’d made, letting her in on the parts of my life I never thought we could share.
We didn’t talk about the future, didn’t talk about the fact that I’d be returning to Oklahoma in a week. But I gave her the most important parts of the last decade of my life.
“So what’s your favorite part of the job?” she asked in between bites of chips and salsa.
I thought about that one for a beat. “Probably the flying. It’s amazing up there.”
A smile played at her lips. “You always did love pushing the limits.”
“Yeah, I guess a thing like that doesn’t really go away.” I shrugged, taking another bite of my burrito. “I like the challenge of it. In the beginning when I was going through pilot training, it was such a fucking struggle. Your first flight you’re absolutely clueless. It’s like watching a baby learn how to walk. But little by little you get more comfortable, learn more. Every step is a new challenge—just learning how to fly, then learning how to fly like a fighter pilot, then an F-16, then how to be good enough in an F-16 to keep progressing, to start having the experience and knowledge to teach other guys how to fly.
“We’re constantly adapting to new threats, new mission sets. And even when you get used to it, there’s always the chance that weird shit can happen in the air and suddenly you’re back to feeling like a newbie again, just trying to stay alive.” I swallowed, taking a sip of my margarita. “I told you that I had an issue flying before I came here.”
She nodded, her mouth tightening. “It sounded dangerous.”
“It was. I was flying, and all of a sudden, it was like I was back there on the night he died.”
I remembered my conversation with Burn, and while I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk to a shrink or anything, part of me did want to talk to someone. Needed to talk to someone.
And my “someone” had always been Becca.
“What happened when he died?”
I took another deep breath, feeling like a lead weight pressed down on my chest. “We were TDY in Alaska. It was a night sortie and we were finishing up, on our way home. Everything was fine, or so we thought. I was on Joker’s wing.” The familiar guilt came rushing back. “He made a radio call; we were doing low-level strafing as a four-ship.” She looked confused. “Basically, shooting the gun at targets on the ground while we were flying low. It’s one of those things we do in combat a lot and we practice it all the time. Completely routine.” She nodded. “Apparently, he spatial D’ed. Spatial disorientation. You get confused on where the jet is, think you’re in a different position than you are, and by the time you realize it or when you try to correct yourself, it’s too late. Joker didn’t realize how low he was flying and he crashed into a mountain.”
Becca’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God.”
“The whole thing happened so fucking fast. He was fine and then he was just gone.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for all of you. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to fly after something like that.”
“It spooked me. And I can’t seem to move past it.”
She took a sip of her margarita, fear in her eyes. “Does that kind of stuff happen a lot?”
“Spatial D? Yeah. Most of the time you recover, no big deal.” I ran a hand through my hair, my voice cracking. “It happened to me on my last flight before I took leave. The flight that made me realize that I needed to figure out what the hell was going on. It was the same kind of situation as what happened with Joker. And I just . . . I freaked. I’ve probably spatial D’ed dozens of times in my career, and I’ve always recovered, always been lucky. But this time, it was like I was back in that night, and I couldn’t shake it. The worst thing you can do in the cockpit is lose your shit. We’re trained to stay calm always. And I couldn’t get control. And that scares me more than anything, because a spooked pilot is a dead one.
“There was an upgrade to the jet, a new system that sets off an alarm if you get too close to the groun
d to keep what happened to Joker from happening again. It saved my life. I keep thinking that a few months would have made the difference between saving his. If he’d only had the upgrade . . .”
“I’m so sorry.” She reached out and took my hand, squeezing my fingers as though she could infuse me with some of her strength.
“I know. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to ruin things by getting so heavy, I just . . .” My voice trailed off again and I played with my food. “I haven’t been able to talk about it. It’s hard.”
“You can always talk to me.”
She knew all my secrets, had been there for all of the rocky times in my life when I was younger.
“I know. It means a lot.”
“Do you think you can move past it when you fly? Find a way to deal with it?”
“I don’t know. I want to. I know I need to, that it’s too fucking dangerous for me to be up in the air if I’m going to lose it again.”
“Can you talk to a professional or something?”
“I mean, yeah, I can, but I’m worried about how it could affect my career.”
“Why? That’s bullshit.”
I shrugged. “I’m not much of a fighter pilot if I’m cracking in the jet.”
“Yeah, but what about you? Just as a person. How are you supposed to deal with this if you can’t talk about it, if you can’t get the help you need?”
“There’s not a lot of coddling or hand-holding in my job. They don’t really give a shit about that stuff as long as we get the mission accomplished.”
She opened her mouth and closed it again, and I could tell her sense of justice was deeply offended.
I grinned despite the depressing conversation. It was reassuring to see that some things never changed. For all of her shyness when we were younger, she’d always been the first person to sign up for a protest, to volunteer when help was needed, to speak out against a wrong that had been committed. She was fierce about the things she believed in, and it had always been one of the qualities I admired most about her.
“Has being back helped at all?”
I made a face and she laughed. “I’m not talking about your orgasms; get your mind out of the gutter.”
“It’s definitely been worth it for the orgasms alone,” I teased.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” I sobered. “Honestly, I’m not sure. A little bit maybe? I guess it recharged my batteries. I’ve been so fucking tired for so long, and it feels good just to have the time off to process everything.
“I went from a series of TDYs and then Joker’s death, and things have been pretty intense lately as we’ve ramped up for our next deployment. There hasn’t been a lot of time to breathe.” I brought our joined hands to my lips and pressed a kiss over her knuckles. “And I promise, I’m not just saying this because I want to see what you’re wearing under that sexy dress, but seeing you again, having you in my life again, has definitely helped. I’ve never been able to talk to anyone the way I can talk to you. I’ve missed this.”
She didn’t answer me, not audibly anyway, but I saw her answer in the emotion lingering in her eyes, felt it in the way she held on to me and didn’t let go.
EIGHTEEN
BECCA
It was a fantastic date. One of those dates when you could feel the chemistry just sparking, when you finished each other’s sentences, the conversation flowed freely, and you had to fight to keep a smile off your lips.
Danger zone.
I unlocked my front door, Eric at my back. I stiffened as he lifted my hair off of my neck, pulling it to the front so my nape was bare. I went a little weak in the knees when he pressed his lips to my flesh, when his teeth grazed my skin, when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back so I could feel his cock, hard and heavy against my ass.
“I had a great time tonight,” he whispered, his lips grazing my ear.
A shiver ripped through me.
His hands fumbled at my hip, trying to peel back layers and layers of dress.
“How does this thing open?” he mumbled, his voice frustrated.
I grinned. “It’s a wrap dress.”
“What?”
“There’s a tie on the side.”
His fingers struggled with the knot just above my left hip, a few curse words tumbling from his lips. Patience had never exactly been one of his virtues.
I batted his hands away. “Here, let me do it.”
I turned in the circle of his arms, my fingers shaking slightly as I undid the knot, pulling the fabric from my body until I was naked but for the silky red bra and thong I’d bought on the Great Sex Store Expedition. His eyes widened.
“Whoa.”
A flush crept up my cheeks and I tossed him a flirty wink.
“Glad you like it.”
“Babe.”
I figured that one word contained a whole lot of meaning.
He reached for me but I evaded his grasp, wanting to prolong this moment, to bask in the gleam in his eyes. I’d never been big on sexy lingerie, my style tended to be way more conservative, but seeing how much he obviously enjoyed it . . . let’s just say I had a feeling another trip to the sex store might be in order.
His smile dipped. “Are you going to take charge again this time?”
Heat spread across my body. “Did you like it?”
“I like anything that involves you naked, so yeah.” He hooked an arm around my waist. “Scratch that. I like anything that involves you, period.”
God, it was really hard to keep my heart disengaged when he said things like that.
He stroked my back, leaning into me so his face was buried in my neck, pressing gentle kisses to the curve of my shoulder.
I groaned. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.”
“Sorry, you’ll find no sympathy here. I had hours of torture sitting across the table, wishing I could have my way with you, wanting to slip my hand under your dress to see if you were as turned on as I was. You can wait a few minutes.”
“Is this payback?”
He pulled back, his finger trailing down the edge of my bra, a wolfish smile on his face. “Nah, this is just fun.”
He dragged the pad of his finger down the curve of my breast and back again, his smile deepening as we both watched a line of goose bumps flare up on my skin, as I arched my back forward, pressing more of myself into his hands.
I had a feeling he was getting off on tormenting me as much as I’d felt the same way about him last night. It was a weighty thing to watch someone unravel before you because they were desperate for you.
And I was desperate. My arousal burned me from the inside out, a fire blazing below my skin. I needed more than these featherlight touches, more than the way he teased me, each barely there touch ratcheting my arousal up another notch until I couldn’t stand it anymore and I wrapped my arm around his neck, pulling his head down until his lips were mine.
He might have been pretending to go slowly, might have acted like he could drag this night out, but the second our mouths touched, pretense went out the window.
He kissed me like he was dying for my lips, my mouth, my tongue. Like the same madness that coursed through my veins was inside of him, too, pushing to get out. Finesse went out the window and taking it slow became a pipe dream.
He was so good when he was being oh, so bad.
Eric tugged at my hair as he kissed me, as he pulled me toward him, inch by inch, kiss by kiss, until it felt like we were one. Our hands and bodies became extensions of each other as we reconnected, as we came together once again with an inaudible click, as though the rightness of it all overshadowed everything else.
We fumbled for each other’s clothes, laughter filling the room when he struggled with my bra, when it caught on my elbow, when he tripped on his pants. And then the laughter disap
peared when we were both naked, standing in my living room once again.
Eric picked me up, wrapping my legs around him, carrying me into the bedroom while I straddled his waist, my nipples rubbing against the hard planes of his chest, my hands exploring his back. We walked toward the bed and I waited for him to lay me down on the mattress, but he didn’t. Instead, he carried me into the bathroom, setting me down on my feet.
I blinked, surprised by the turn of events.
Eric smiled, his mouth swollen from our kisses, red marks already forming along his neck and shoulders from where I’d raked my nails across his body and sucked on his skin.
“I get to play tonight. Let me take care of you.”
The breath whooshed out of me and it was an effort not to sway on my feet. There was something about having sex when I could feel like I was in control, or when we both lost our minds. It felt safe. Like I wasn’t the only one engaging in this madness, and if I lost myself, it would be okay because he would have lost a bit of himself, too. Letting him take control was another thing entirely, and I could tell by the way he watched me, gauging my response, that he knew it.
I had feelings for him, still loved him. I probably would always love him. And I was obviously attracted to him. But that didn’t mean that I ever wanted him to see me vulnerable again. Not after what we’d been through. Not after I’d laid myself bare before him and begged him not to leave, not to end our engagement, and he’d walked away anyway.
It might have just been sex, but I wasn’t sure I was ready.
“Let’s go into the bedroom.” I gave him a forced smile, trailing my hand up his torso.
He caught my hand, unfurling my fingers and linking his with mine until our palms connected.
I fought the urge to jerk back.
I knew what he was doing. He wanted more than casual sex, and he was pulling out all the stops to get back to the couple we’d been before, when there had been no barriers between us, nothing off-limits. I just didn’t know how to go there. Not after everything.
“Becca.”
Into the Blue (A Wild Aces Romance) Page 15
