Wanna Play (Ghost Unit, Book Three)

by Faulkner, Gail

  “You didn’t have to make it a combat lift,” Blaster snarled.

  They leveled out and Jackson settled the little plane in for the ride. “Course I did. I’ve seen you cave to her. My time to talk reason is always limited.”

  “What’s eating you?” Jas asked Jackson. “Don’t you think I can learn to fly?”

  “Jesus, Jas. You’re about to become a movie star. No studio is going to let you get into dangerous situations. You’ll be contractually forbidden to even do your own stunts. You can’t be serious,” Jackson argued loudly. “Learning to fly is frowned on by the studios. Did you know that?”

  “Yeah, but they can’t control what I do on my own time when I’m not making a movie,” Jas pointed out.

  “Sure they can. If even a whisper of your involvement with an outfit like Ghost Unit gets out, they’ll avoid you. You can’t have that this early in your career. You need to be well established before you start taking risks they don’t like. Right now they can make you a one-hit wonder. You’ll disappear if no one wants to make a movie with you because you’re to high a risk for insurance.”

  “Ghost Unit?” Jas asked and looked at Blaster. “The Ghost Unit? The one no one admits to and everyone else thinks is a myth?”

  Jackson scowled back at them for a second. “You never told her?” he asked Blaster harshly.

  “Well damn, buddy. I was getting to it.” Blaster sighed as she regarded him. “Yeah. That one. You just met the Ghost Unit.”

  “Fuck me,” Jas breathed in surprise.

  “As often as I can, baby. The Ghost Unit thing is no big deal and at the same time a huge secret. You get that, right?”

  Jas nodded while staring at him.

  “Really, we’re regular guys,” Blaster insisted as she looked at him.

  “Ah, yeah.” Jas cleared her throat and glanced away.

  “Come on. This doesn’t change anything, baby.” Blaster’s calm voice rumbled around her as she stared out the window.

  Jas smiled as she turned back to him. “Sure it does. It’s like telling me your part of a mythological beast. Ghost Unit is the superstar of the military. Most people don’t even believe it exists. The stories are too fantastic. And do you know who the original Ghost Unit was? Are they real too?”

  “No, I don’t know who they are, but yeah, they were a real unit. I suspect Gray knows names,” Blaster answered honestly. “You realize those stories you’ve heard have probably been exaggerated. It’s not like we’re that much different from any other unit. We’ve gotten lucky a few more times is all.”

  “Lucky?” Jas echoed softly. “I suppose I should have suspected something like this when you said your unit hadn’t replaced a man. I never made the connection.”

  “Okay, are you over it yet?” Jackson asked Jas impatiently from the cockpit. “I still want to talk you out of doing dangerous shit.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll not be butting in on Ghost Unit business,” Jas responded seriously.

  “You won’t?” Jackson glanced back in surprise. “That was easy.”

  “I’m not an idiot,” Jas shot at him.

  “No one said you were. But it’s not like you to…concede to reason.” Jackson frowned. “Got a fever? Are you coming down with something, Jas?”

  Jas finally laughed. “Don’t you know what respect is when you hear it? I’d never be so stupid as to think I could insert myself into the Ghost Unit. Jezz, Jackson. Do you even know what people say about you guys?”

  “Guess not.” Jackson was scowling out the cockpit windshield now. “But if it clips your wings, I’m not sure I like it. This discussion has nothing to do with skill, Jas. Though integrating into a unit is not simple or quick. I’m not talking about that. You know what training is. How long it takes a group to become a unit. What I’m talking about is you risking your ass when you don’t have to.”

  “Will you relax with the daddy complex already?” Jas demanded, some of her attitude returning to her tone. “I simply want a pilot’s license. Thousands of people get them all the time. You can’t stop me, St. James, so live with it.”

  “Well there are lots of shoddy places that only want the money and hand them out like box top certificates. You have to promise not to go to one of those places,” Jackson insisted.

  Jas glanced at Blaster. He was quietly watching her as she argued with Jackson. “Fine. You pick the instructor. I don’t intend to argue about this. I will learn to fly,” Jas informed Jackson belligerently.

  “You’ll be in California for a while?” Jackson asked firmly.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. I know a guy who used to instruct at Miramar. He’ll do it,” Jackson grunted in satisfaction.

  “What!?” Jas squawked. “Miramar? Now who’s fucking going too far? A guy like that doesn’t teach beginners. Are you insane?”

  “This one will if Jackson tells him to,” Blaster joined the conversation. “He’s Jack’s cousin.”

  Jas’ eyes narrowed as she glanced between them. “You two are making sure I stay in the family, aren’t you? What was all that junk about studios and shit if you had a guy picked out already? Why do I feel cotton wool walls creeping around me?” she accused suspiciously. Pointing at Blaster she continued. “You let him lead me down that path because you knew where he was going with it, didn’t you?”

  Blaster shrugged and grinned. “Burner is a good instructor. You’ll learn from the best and be safe at the same time. So yeah, I did. Now everyone’s happy. You learn how to fly and we feel good about it.”

  “I don’t know what you think is cotton walls,” Jackson added. “You’re going to learn how to fly from a guy who’ll teach to you to do rolls, dogfight, how to come out of a flat spin and survive. When he figures out what an action junkie you are, he’ll train you like a fighter pilot. Who the hell would call that protecting you?

  “The studio junk was manipulation, you’re right. I needed a place to start so you’d get what a big concession I’m making.” Jackson looked back and grinned. Not a trace of repentance on his face.

  Jas’ head tilted as she looked at Jackson. “You knew I’d eventually try all that anyway. Both of you were two steps ahead of me getting into trouble and making sure I learned how to do it safely.”

  “We weren’t two steps ahead of you,” Blaster denied. “But of course you’d do all wild-ass stuff and training to do it safely is the goal. Nobody’s hemming you in, baby. The concern is making sure you have the skills to be safe.”

  Jas dragged in a deep breath as she looked at her Hillbilly and then glanced at her other keeper, who wasn’t a keeper at all. Jackson had manipulated her as skillfully as she’d ever seen it done. Blaster had been aware of it. The two of them had acted as a team to get her compliance. In getting her to do what they wanted, she’d ended up with something so much better than she’d ever have expected.

  For all Jackson’s blustering about being reckless and safety, he was not trying to clip her wings. He was trying to hand her golden wings to fly as far as she wanted. He expected her to train as hard as any military pilot and in the end have skills that matched his. Jas felt the sting of tears wash over her. Fighting the reaction, she felt a little overwhelmed.

  Relationships that made the people in them better were damn new to her. But she recognized the fucking fairy tale when she saw it. She knew Liana loved her. Her grandmother had loved her too. That was the extent of Jas’ experience with people who supported and loved.

  Jas had spent a lifetime looking for the place she fit as a valuable member of the community. Excelling at school had been her first attempt. Then excelling in the Marines had followed. She’d been trying to find the group who would accept her and expect her best, in return give her their best. The possibility that she’d actually found that place, those people, was almost incomprehensible. She’d given up. In the battle to free herself, she’d been willing to die.

  Jas hadn’t been fully aware of her fatalistic surrender until thi
s moment. When she drove off on Jackson’s motorcycle what seemed like so long ago, she’d not expected to survive. Believing Liana dead, her only motivation had been to make the bastard pay.

  Jas wasn’t sure how to respond to the situation. Did she acknowledge it? Would that embarrass these two generous men? Jackson’s relationship with her was sharp and challenging. His trapping her into accepting something better than she’d have had the balls to dream of was freaking endearing.

  Jackson was also implying a long-term commitment. He expected her to handle both challenging training and be part of his life. Jas let the warmth of those expectations flow over her with surprising ease. But she couldn’t integrate them onto her being. The future was too murky. Right now she couldn’t see past tonight’s mission.

  “You okay?” Blaster asked softly, his face concerned as he watched her sit in silence for so long.

  “Mmm.” Jas wasn’t ready to comment on her feelings yet.

  “We’re here,” Jackson announced from the cockpit as he began descent procedures. “No more arguing ’til we’re on the ground.”

  On the ground they split up. Jackson had a van to rent and set up for surveillance. Jas and Blaster were after entirely different supplies.

  Two hours later Blaster and Jas were in a seedy motel room again. A private place for Blaster to assemble the items needed for tonight.

  Jas sat beside Blaster eating her sandwich as he built the items. As soon as she pulled up the chair, Blaster had started explaining exactly what he was doing. Subtly teaching her his art in between bites of his lunch. In the end he’d pulled the little desk over beside the bed so he could sit behind her, his thighs bracketing hers, his arms reaching around her to guide in the construction if necessary. But it was Jas who completed the job then packed the parts to be transported safely.

  She’d had basic explosives training, so learning the fine points from a master of the art was a rush. Blaster was handing her wings instead of clipping them. When the job was complete, it had been Jas who’d finished it.

  Leaning back into his chest, she closed her eyes and let him believe the reason her belly trembled under his hands was because he was gently kissing down her neck as he caressed her. That was part of the reason after all.

  Large hands pulled her shirt from her jeans to roam up her abdomen as he growled behind her. The low rumble of his pleasure as he licked her neck made Jas smile. He could be such a beast. A wild Southern street dog who’d never been fully civilized. He paced the fringes of society as surely as any feral stray, watching the world with eyes that burned. Blaster swiftly unbuttoned the shirt.

  Tension zinged through Jas. The rough hands petting her strummed nerve endings that were already snapping with restrained energy.

  Hooking his chin over her shoulder, Blaster watched his hands glide up her firm flesh to cup perfect breasts. She undulated beneath his touch and damn well took his breath away as she moved.

  Jas hissed in frustrated approval. Her head was turned to the side, nuzzling his ear. Blaster smiled. She was trying. Trying to live in the moment she though he wanted.

  “Pin me, Sheena,” he growled softly.

  “What?”

  “Go ahead. You want to fight. All that energy is almost jumping out of your skin. Try to pin me,” he encouraged. “I don’t want surrender. I want you as you are, woman.”

  Jas sucked air in through clenched teeth. “You want to wrestle?”

  “I want to fuck your brains out, baby. But you need to siphon off some of that energy.”

  “So you want to fight for it?” Jas shoved away from him and stood up, backing from the bed, pushing the little desk against the wall with her butt.

  Blaster relaxed, propped up on elbows. “No. We never fight for it, Jas. Sex isn’t a competition, a bargaining chip or any other damn thing.” He sat up and pulled his shirt out of jeans, unbuttoning and shrugging out of it. “We can’t go for a run, there’s no gym. I’m offering my skills as a wrestling partner because you damn well need to relax.” Blaster reached down, unlacing his boots, pulling them off.

  “You’re stripping though.” Hands on hips she watched him suspiciously.

  “Yep. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Standing, he shoved down jeans, stepping out of them. Gathering clothes, he took them to the little clothes rod and hung up his shirt, folded the jeans and placed them on the rack on top.

  Turning back to her he raised a brow. “What are you waiting for, Carson? You that sure you can’t pin me?”

  Clothed only in hard, rippling muscle and a lazy smile, Samuel Callaway was a beautiful beast. He strolled toward her and there was no mistaking how much he liked looking at her.

  Jas waved a hand at the thick erection swaying in front of him. “I might hurt you.”

  Blaster chuckled. “Well, that’s a reason to chicken out. But I promise, if you hurt me, I’ll deserve it. I’ve got a weight advantage as well as experience. Now strip down and show me how wicked an opponent you can be.”

  “Take the clothes off me,” Jas challenged with narrowed eyes.

  Blaster froze and held up his hands in a flash reaction. “No. Baby, if you don’t want to wrestle, just say so.”

  Jas breathed out a scoff. “I never said that.”

  Blaster cocked his head. “Okay, leave bra and panties on. I stripped because I don’t want to hurt you with rough jeans. I’m not going to force a shred of clothing off you. Ever.”

  “All right, stud.” Jas shrugged out of her shirt and sat on the bed to remove boots.

  Blaster calmly lay down on the bed, stacking his hands behind his head as he watched her push off jeans. Jas straightened in bra and panties, hands on hips she again regarded his relaxed body.

  “You giving up already?”

  “Come here, I’m handicapping myself by starting on my back,” he murmured as his eyes roamed over her body.

  “Doesn’t look like you have the proper head in the game,” Jas chided.

  “That’s the other half of the handicap. My libido is on your side.”

  Jas chuckled and leapt on him. He’d already moved before she landed, but she’d expected his move. Hard and fierce they grappled. He’d almost had her in a pin and she twisted out. Her skills in the eastern discipline coupled with extreme flexibility enabled her to elude him. They rolled off the bed and somehow Blaster was the one who hit the floor first, cushioning her fall.

  The room was filled with low grunts and hissing breathing as they rolled across the floor. Jas scrambled up but he had her cornered against the sink vanity. Her body appeared to contract as she was suddenly crouched on the countertop and then launched into the air in a jump that allowed her to tackle him almost from behind. Her body weight descending as she would have wrapped an arm around his neck should have taken down an opponent who was shocked at her aerial attack.

  Blaster was countering it as she flew at him. Again they landed on the floor, wildly thrashing across it.

  “Nice,” Blaster complimented as he eluded her.

  “Glad you liked it.”

  Jas was an eel. Her firm body always twisting out of reach while coming at him.

  “You’re not fighting me,” Jas snarled.

  They were on top of the bed again, writhing in conflict.

  “Bullshit.”

  Jas was on his back as his body twisted in a swift jerk to throw her. “This is pansy crap,” she accused as she countered.

  “I’m not using strength. Makes us more even,” he panted as they rolled off the other side of the bed.

  Jas intensified her attack and they were silent except for the heavy breathing and grunts of battle.

  “Dammit.” Blaster laughed as five minutes later she eluded him again but did it with a sharp slap to his ass.

  Jas grinned and used his surprise to gain advantage. Blaster had to concentrate and they were locked in a hold that gave neither the advantage.

  “Winning isn’t playing fair,” Jas gritted out. “Y
ou’ve been playing fair.”

  Blaster immediately released his hold, surrendering to her pin as he laughed in short gusts. “We’re not training,” he reminded the woman looming over him.

  Jas immediately straddled his hips, grinning at the laughing man. “We need a gym,” she informed him. “This place is too small.” She sprang off him and backed up. “So is that a win for me?”

  “What do you think?” Blaster stood slowly and prowled toward her.

  Jas backed into the door, chuckling as he walked into her body.

  “I told you I’m easy,” he continued softly, pinning her with his weight against the hard surface behind her. His body was aggressive, but no longer challenging as the thick, hot weight of his erection pressed into her abdomen.