Flyboy

by Nicole Austin

  Playing with this particular fire may get him burned, but he was willing to take the risk. He took a measured step forward. “And?”

  Twyla tilted her head to the side and stared at him as if studying an interesting bug under a magnifying glass. “And,” she huffed, “you blew it with your macho bullshit. Charging off to be alone, keeping everyone at a distance, remaining silent—”

  “Macho bullshit?” Now he was getting irritated.

  “Yes, macho bullshit. Like the four of you fighting. Such total macho crap!”

  Desire to take action flashed in her eyes. “And you wouldn’t take a swing at me right now, Miss Holier-than-Thou?”

  A sexy growl rumbled up from her chest. He must be pretty damn warped for that sound to turn him on considering her anger, but it did. His cock jerked and his abdomen clenched. Stupid as taunting her may be, he took another step forward and noted the signs of arousal the fiery woman tried to keep hidden. She may conduct most of her battles from behind a computer monitor, but there was no doubt Twyla was a warrior who enjoyed a good fight.

  Her nipples had elongated into hard little points stretching the front of her shirt and her breasts appeared swollen, heavy with need. A delightful pink flush spread from her face and down her neck to disappear beneath her collar. As he took another step her nostrils flared and her breathing quickened, causing those gorgeous breasts to rise and fall faster. Her pupils were wide with only a sliver of green ringing them. Unable to keep her hands still, her palms rubbed from her hips to upper thighs in a constant motion and she seemed to lean a bit forward.

  Jhett gave a slight nod. “You were worried…about me.” A sense of awe made his voice tremble. “I’m fine, honey.” He opened his arms wide, letting her get a good look to see he was unharmed.

  The punch came out of nowhere, smashing into his gut and knocking the wind out of him. Twyla packed one hell of a wallop. He stumbled back a step and doubled over, wrapping both arms over his abused abdomen. Damn, he should have anticipated her striking out. “What the fuck did you do that for?” he wheezed. Now he sounded wimpy and pathetic.

  “You were being a jerk!” His eyes watered as he watched her back away from him, not stopping until more than halfway across the room with a wary look flashing in her eyes. As if he would ever hurt her.

  The off-handed comment and her reaction fired his temper. No matter how much he wanted to hold back and allay her fears, it just wasn’t possible. “Watch it, hellion!” The words came out harsher than he intended, almost a growl. He glared at her in warning and right before his eyes something appeared to break inside Twyla. She closed the remaining distance between them at full speed and launched herself into the air, slamming against his chest and knocking the breath from his lungs. He caught her in an unyielding embrace as she wrapped herself around him tighter than a python, legs clasped over his hips, arms around his shoulders, lips sealed to his.

  There was nothing tentative in her kiss. She unleashed every emotion held in check for too long in a voracious and ravenous blast. Her kiss was full of hunger and want and need. Fingernails dug into his back as she tried to burrow beneath his skin. The small bite of pain fired his libido, prompting Jhett to respond in kind.

  Lips parted, teeth clashed, tongues surged, laying claim. He captured the soft mewl from her mouth and pulled the sound into his body while his tongue tangled, searched, tasted, conquered. There was no denying the intense desire coursing through them and no turning back. Heat pulsed, hands ripped at clothes, bodies pressed closer but they couldn’t get close enough.

  The door slammed behind the team as they made a hasty retreat, catching his attention. Jhett spun around to find they were alone. He hadn’t cared if the guys were there—had forgotten them in fact—but was relieved to have Twyla alone. If he didn’t get inside her soon, he was going to self-destruct. The door was the closest hard surface. Jhett propelled them against it, letting his forearms take the impact.

  “I need…” she cried then sucked on his tongue with hard and insistent pulls, showing him without words just what she wanted. What they both had to have.

  “Yes. Now.” She’d reduced him to monosyllabic replies. “Clothes off.”

  Their efforts were hampered by the unwillingness to let go for even a second. Fisting the thin material of her shirt, he ripped it straight down the center. Having no patience for the bra, he shoved the cups beneath her breasts.

  “Aw, Christ!” He was a goner. They were more perfect than he’d imagined. The soft globes quivered with her erratic breathing. Her rosy areolas puckered tight around ripe nipples he had no ability to resist. Burying his face in her cleavage, he took a deep breath. She smelled of honeysuckle blooms—feminine, warm and inviting.

  “Jhett,” she gasped as his lips closed over her nipple and he suckled the firm bud. Damn, she tasted even better than she smelled—soft and sweet. And one hundred percent his.

  The primal urges of a caveman raged through him. Jhett wanted to mark her, put his indelible brand on her skin so every other man knew she’d been claimed, was owned by him. While it scared the shit out of him, it was an undeniable compulsion. Releasing her nipple with a wet pop, he allowed Twyla only a moment to yank the shirt over his head before reclaiming his prize. He raked his teeth over her tender nub, celebrating in her moan.

  Switching to the other breast, he clawed at the fastener of her jeans. “Down,” he ordered, shoving her legs from his waist and pulling the denim and silky panties away with a hard jerk after she complied.

  He didn’t waste any time fighting with his pants. After popping the button, he yanked down the zipper and shoved the material past his hips to release his throbbing length.

  Twyla’s legs wrapped around him again and he became lost in the consuming warmth of her soft mound cradling him as hot cream coated his cock. The evidence of her arousal seared him and shot his need higher.

  Jhett grasped her hips, lifted her until his broad head snuggled up next to her damp opening. He thrust forward and pulled her down onto him, stopping when their groins crashed together. Collapsing with his head burrowed beneath her hair, he took great gulps of air and gritted his teeth to try to regain some semblance of control.

  The walls of her pussy pulsed and clenched around him, squeezing his cock like a damp velvet fist. She flexed her legs, pulling him tighter into her, his chest pillowed by her lush breasts. “I can’t do slow,” he warned.

  “Fu-fuck slow.” Her legs contracted as she wiggled, grinding her pelvis to his. “I want hard. Fast. Now, damn it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He aimed to please them both.

  Twyla’s head spun and her senses reeled as she tried to take it all in, absorb every detail. Burn each touch into her memory. Her pussy ached and became hotter than molten lava. The sensitive tissues felt stretched to the max. It was too much and not enough.

  Jhett pulled back and she cried out, the sound cut short as he thrust hard and fast, rattling the door within its frame. He initiated a steady pace, pounding her against the door and she loved it. The harsh propulsion of his cock forcing her body to accommodate the thick invasion, ending in a solid thump against her cervix. She fought his withdrawal—the empty ache left behind. Rejoiced in each forward charge—the complete joining of their bodies.

  So full. Raw. Hammered by Hammer.

  Hysterical laughter burst from her lips. She couldn’t hold it back, wouldn’t attempt to. He paused and shot her a quizzical glance before resuming his thrusts.

  “I’m gettin’…hammered…by Hammer.”

  Only two words did justice in describing the grin that spread across his lips, feral and wicked. In response, he swooped in, sealing their lips in a carnal kiss that made her toes curl. When Jhett bent his knees, she canted her hips, causing his pubic bone to grind across her clit as they came together.

  “Ah yes!” The storm front gathered and burst over Twyla. She gave herself over to the sensations as lightning exploded behind her eyelids. Jhett never slowed
or faltered. He powered through her orgasm, not letting it fade but instead driving her higher, battering into her. Harder and faster.

  Deciding that breathing was highly overrated, she stopped struggling to draw oxygen and focused on delivering the same amazing pleasure she’d received.

  “Yes, Jhett. So good,” she encouraged with her voice and body, meeting him thrust for thrust, surprised as a second, more devastating orgasm started in her core and spread outward through her entire body.

  Thrusting two, three more times, Jhett yelled her name and joined her in ecstasy. She felt the heat of his cum filling her and Twyla dropped her damp head to his shoulder in repletion. No longer able to hang on, she trusted him not to let her fall.

  Chapter Seven

  Jhett couldn’t move and his legs were numb. He held the two of them upright by collapsing against Twyla, his weight pressing them to the wall. “I’m paralyzed.” She must not have killed him since he was still capable of speech.

  “You and me both.”

  He had to be crushing her. “Give me a minute and I’ll try to move.”

  “Don’t rush on my account.”

  He laughed. She sounded sleepy and sated, well and truly fucked. If he had the strength, he’d pat himself on the back. “Did you happen to catch the name of the train that hit us?”

  A knock vibrated through the door. “Is it safe to come in yet?”

  “No,” they both groaned.

  “Well shit,” Dodger complained. “It’s not fair to fuck each other’s brains out and not let us watch.”

  A loud clap was followed by a chuckle from Homerun. “Let’s go to a bar and see if we can’t score some action.”

  Jhett swore under his breath. “Don’t mess with the locals.”

  “Hah, too bad you didn’t follow your own advice.” Twyla spoke softly so the others wouldn’t hear.

  “Well, that pretty much eliminates all the possibilities,” Tank grumbled. “That’s so not right. He gets some and we walk away empty-handed.”

  “Um, Tank. I don’t think any of us are going to be empty-handed for long,” Dodger teased.

  “Shut the fuck up, peckerhead. You’re in the same sinking boat.”

  Jhett listened as heavy footsteps stomped down the stairs, the men grumbling the whole way.

  “Poor babies. Maybe we should’ve let them watch.”

  “No!” Jhett snapped. “I’m not about to share.” He felt a smile stretch her lips where they rested in the crook of his neck.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  He didn’t take the time to worry about this strange possessive streak she brought to life in him. “Hang on, honey. I’m gonna try to get us to the bed.” The apartment had only the one bedroom, which they’d assigned to Twyla. The men slept in shifts on cots spread around the small space when not out scouting for information or acting as sentries. When you served time in the military, you learned to sleep anywhere. He’d slept standing up more than a few times.

  With a grunt, he shoved away from the wall and waited for his shaky legs to stabilize before sweeping Twyla up in his arms. Tender emotions tugged at his heart when she curled into him with a contented purr. Somehow, she got past all his defenses and had a profound effect on him. How did she do that?

  After he laid her on the bed, his hands became gentle as Jhett removed her bra. He stood back to enjoy the view for several long moments. Divine.

  She nodded in his direction. “Your turn. Ditch the clothes.”

  Twyla’s palms itched in anticipation as he doubled over to first remove his socks and shoes. He remained bent while pulling the jeans over his feet then rose in a fluid motion.

  Oh fuck yeah. Tall, dark and sculpted to perfection. Saliva pooled in her mouth. Hopefully she wasn’t drooling. Her gaze slid over wide shoulders and the huge expanse of his chest with its squared pectorals, lingering over dark male nipples she wanted to lick. A light smattering of hair trailed down his partitioned six-pack abdomen to form a soft nest at the base of his cock, which was already rebounding.

  Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, Twyla ignored the twinge of pain in the mistreated flesh that she’d gnawed at too much when Jhett had been in danger.

  Topped with a broad, plum-shaped crown, his considerable erection had a distinctive upward curve. Numerous veins twisted around the ruddy length. She wanted to taste him.

  “Keep worrying your lip and I’ll have to spank you.”

  She met his concerned gaze and released her tattered flesh.

  “If you’re hungry, I’ve got something a bit more satisfying for you.”

  “Mmm…indeed you do. Can I have a taste?”

  “As long as you sheathe those fangs.” He climbed onto the end of the bed and crawled up her body, pausing to place light kisses everywhere but the places she most desired the press of his lips. The warmth of his breath slid over her clit and caused her hips to roll forward in a sinuous movement. His lips pressed to her thigh, lingered then he continued to move higher, no longer interested in delaying.

  The crisp hair covering his thighs rasped against her nipples as he moved higher. Jhett settled a knee under each of her arms and sat back, compressing her breasts under his firm ass. She sucked in a hard breath, hissing between her teeth, not caring for the sensation of being trapped, caged by his powerful body as he straddled her chest. She was completely at his mercy. Helpless.

  Panic slammed into her. She wheezed and struggled for control, not letting the irrational claustrophobia take over. “No!” Reaching up, she grabbed his hips and shoved, failing to shift him.

  Jhett’s eyes turned dark with menace and a muscle in his jaw ticked. Twyla rushed to reassure him. She intended to deliver on the blowjob, but not like this. “On your back.”

  “Fine, but I want you to undo the braid.”

  At her nod, he took a breath and rolled to the side. When his weight lifted from her chest, the fear eased and she calmed. She flipped over and straddled his hips. Leaning down, she rewarded his compliance with a sultry kiss that made them both purr.

  Twyla pulled back from the kiss and let her gaze slide down to where their pubic hair joined to cradle the root of his hard cock. The sight struck her as odd, almost appearing as if the shaft jutted from her pelvis instead of his.

  A shiver of need made her thighs tremble. She wanted to devour him, capture his essence and be greedy, keep his unique musky scent and masculine taste all to herself. Take him into her body and never let go. Mark him in a clear and visible way as a deterrent to other women.

  She slipped the elastic from the end of her braid, unwove the strands and gave her head a shake, delighting in the cool waves flowing over naked skin, the ends trailing over his thighs. She wasn’t sure why she kept her hair so long. The thick mass required a lot of upkeep and she didn’t show it off. Most of the time it remained in the functional braid.

  “Exquisite,” he breathed.

  Giving in to temptation, her fingers strayed across his chest, over the ridged muscles of his stomach and down to his groin. In no hurry, she sifted through their hair, mingling and blending the rich blacks and browns, then took hold of his cock in one hand and caressed it, slow and easy. His head lifted to watch and lust shone in his pale eyes.

  Her palm circled over the broad head and his cock jerked against his belly. Reaching beneath the crown, she traced the sensitive area, enjoying his heavy sigh. As she ran her hand down the full length and back up again, the muscles of his abdomen corded and a shiver raced over his skin.

  Fisting him tight, she began to stroke him with purposeful and steady movements, firmer at the base and lighter near the head. He groaned and dropped his head back, his eyelids closing. A warm glow gave his skin a rosy tint, ascending from taut nipples over his neck and face. Her other hand slid lower to cup his balls. She rolled the sac in her palm and stretched her middle finger out to caress the shallow groove leading to his anus. Jhett’s thighs tensed, his cock pulsed and he cursed.

 
; So beautiful and perfect and hers…for the moment anyway. And she planned to suck every last bit of enjoyment possible from the experience. Her desire rose to a level Twyla could no longer ignore. Sliding her free hand along her thigh, she fingered damp folds, pushing swollen lips apart with two fingers to circle her clit. Hot juices gushed over both of them, coating her fingers and his balls.

  Sweat beaded on Jhett’s forehead and his face had drawn into a tight grimace. His hips thrust in wild abandon and she rode his body as if he were a mechanical bull, thighs holding his hips in a tight grip. Tension built between them and electricity arched until she worried they may spontaneously combust.

  “Christ, honey. Suck me!”

  “Mmm…” She’d become distracted from her ultimate goal. But what a wonderful sidetrack she’d taken. “I believe I will.” Her tongue snaked out to wet her lips and a pearl of fluid beaded from his slit.

  She wiggled down his body, rubbing her hungry clit along his leg, and captured the drop of cum on the tip of her tongue. The salty and bitter flavor exploded over her taste buds and she shivered, needing more. More of his taste and musky scent. Twyla dropped her nose to his groin and took a deep breath of their combined scents. Damn, did they smell good, the two aromas combining in the tantalizing fragrance of sex.

  The thick length of his cock bobbed, enticing her to continue. Twyla’s tongue traced the crooked and curvy trail of veins from root to tip. Each beat of his heart pulsed against her greedy lips as she placed an open-mouthed kiss to the center of his shaft and sucked hard.

  Jhett’s fingers clasped in her hair and he guided the head to her lips. She met his gaze over the length of his body, succumbing to the pleading in his eyes. Cum dribbled over the tip and she lapped it up, humming as she let him push forward. He filled her mouth, pressing against her palate when she laved the underside with her flattened tongue.

  Letting go, she allowed him to dictate the pace, only gagging once when he slid too far down her throat. To prevent that from happening again she fisted the portion she couldn’t take. Twyla sucked hard and his soft skin stretched, sliding over the contrasting steel of the solid flesh below.