by Jo Leigh
He tipped his head, chewing away, as if telling her he got her point, even if he didn’t share the sentiment. “We moved around so much that I never really took to the notion of nesting. My mom made an effort. We had a lot of company, so she wanted things to look nice. All you’d have been able to read back then was that we were an air force family down to the bone. And then, within a year or two, we had to pack all the crap she’d put on the walls, and fill in all the holes left from the nails, repaint. It was a pain in the ass.”
“Okay,” Cassie said. “I get that. But we never had a home, either. Not like most people. We traveled with the weather. Stayed at campsites, motels, friends’ houses. I’ve been in Vegas longer than any other place. I’d like to get a job here, stay. Especially because of the bar. Tommy can be a complete jerk, but he’s mine. And I love him. That being said, I’ll go where the work sends me.”
John put down his sandwich without taking the last bite. His gaze was pointed toward her, but he wasn’t seeing her. Cassie’s chest tightened, she had no idea why.
“In nine days, I have to decide whether I’m going to sign up for another tour.”
She started to tease him about the obviousness of the answer but it sunk in, what he’d really said. He hadn’t made up his mind. Which made no sense. He was a fighter pilot. A profession way up there in the dream-job list. Although...he never talked about flying. At all. He barely wanted her to know what he did. Huh. “What don’t you like about the job?”
He winced. It didn’t last more than a second. “Nothing. I love to fly. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than in the cockpit.”
“What about when you’re not in the cockpit?”
“I’ve got another job offer. Flying a private jet. Loads more money. By a wide margin. A chance to fly to places I’ve never been. No more debriefings and being sent to war zones. And the plane, damn, it’s a G650, which is the finest jet on the market. Tony Wagner, the guy that’s offering me the job, is worried I won’t want to leave the fighter jets. He really wants me to work for him, so...”
“How did you know him?”
John focused on his food but as he did so, the tips of his ears got a little pink. “I sort of saved his life.”
“Sort of?”
“Nothing all that spectacular. One night he was coming out of Caesar’s Palace at the same time I was. I didn’t know him at all, but we were kind of crowded together by all the tourists. He was pushed onto Las Vegas Boulevard and a car was heading straight for him. I pulled him out of harm’s way. Anyone would have done the same, but he was very grateful and we ended up having a drink together.”
“I doubt just anyone could have saved him. Your reflexes, your strength. I’m sure he was awfully grateful...” She looked around his empty nest. “So it’s the money that’s making you think twice about leaving the air force? The perks?”
He shook his head. “Those would be nice, but I’m doing fine moneywise. I’ve invested well, and except for ridiculous cars, I don’t spend a lot.”
“You just want to be a civilian?” The way his brows furrowed, as if she’d said something crazy, made her curious. Surely, with the decision having to be made so soon, he’d thought this through. Growing up the way he had, becoming a civilian at this point would be a major deal. “Wow, I guess being in the bubble has its merits, but in the end, you’re still in a bubble.”
“What does that mean?”
She shrugged. “Being a fighter pilot and all. You live in a rarified atmosphere even when you’re not in the air. It’s glamorous and dangerous and very, very alpha. Flying as a private pilot is a whole different kettle of fish, but maybe that’s the challenge you’re looking for.”
“It’s not—” He stood up, walked away from the table. From her. The set of his shoulders, the way he paced, he looked agitated, and she wanted to call back her words, even though she wasn’t sure what she’d said wrong.
“I do live a charmed life. I know that. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. I have no business even thinking about leaving the air force. Christ. My friends Danny and Sam would kill to be in my shoes.”
He stopped at the window, stared straight ahead.
Cassie ate quietly, watching him. Wondering what was really going on. She was tempted to say something but afraid to interrupt his thoughts. It took a long time for him to turn back to the room.
“We met in college, went through basic together and all the requirements necessary to be allowed to fly the fast movers. The three of us wanted to make it so badly we’d have done anything. Anything. And we did. We all made it through some of the hardest training in the world, and we had our wings and our jets, and it was the best. You can’t even...”
“What happened?” She’d lowered her voice, kept it neutral.
“Sam got laser eye surgery so he wouldn’t have to wear contacts anymore, but it went wrong. They can’t correct his left eye to flight standards. That’s it. He’s out of the jets. Now he’s going to train drone pilots.”
“That’s got to be horrible for him.”
“You have no idea.”
“And Danny?”
The answer didn’t come quickly. “Dead. In a stupid accident. Not his fault. He was a great pilot. Full of potential. Had life by the balls. A freak mechanical problem and he was gone. Just like that.”
“Oh, God, John. I’m so sorry.”
“And here I am, feeling discontent.”
Cassie’s breath caught at the disgust she heard in his voice. “But...you’re grieving. For your friends. For the dreams you all shared. Of course you’re questioning your life.”
* * *
JOHN STARED AT CASSIE, resisting the urge to discount the facile pop psychology she’d spouted. He knew she meant well. But she was steeped in her Dr. Phil textbooks, where everything could be solved with a good cry. He knew better.
He’d grieved a hell of a long time for Danny. But he’d pulled his shit together when it was time to go back and do the job. As for Sam, he’d made the best of his situation and John was taking his cue from that. John’s hesitation in reenlisting was about where and how he wanted to spend the next ten years of his life. Surrounded by all the people he’d seen for the past ten? Doing what he’d always done because it was expected of him? If he hadn’t been born to his family, would he have made the same choices?
Cassie couldn’t understand that, not given where she was in her life. She hadn’t even reached her primary goals yet. He appreciated that she cared, though. The way he’d cared about her studying last night. They might just be together for a laugh, but she was great, and he wouldn’t want to see her hurt. He was sure she felt the same.
He went back to the table, sorry he’d even brought the subject up. He liked it better when they were talking like friends. Or spending some quality time in other pursuits. “You almost done with that?” he asked, nodding at the remains of her lunch.
Her lips parted as if she were about to say something, but it was too tempting a sight for him to pass up. He swooped in for a kiss. The position, him bending low over her chair, was uncomfortable, though, and besides, he wanted more. “I think we need to move this to the bedroom.”
“I, uh...”
“We’re celebrating,” he whispered, his mouth a scant inch from hers, which allowed him to kiss the hesitation right out of her. “We’ll need the rest of the food later. Come with me, Cassie. Let’s make some fireworks together.”
She stood, moving around the chair until she was in his arms. He went to kiss her, but she leaned her head back. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely. One hundred percent.”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes until he brushed the back of his hand over her cheek.
“I mean it. I just want to be with you. The bedroom doesn’t have any plants, but the bed’s great.”
“I’m sure it is.”
He kissed her again. Gently at first, letting the steam build. He’d changed gears pretty abruptly and
she needed time to adjust. He knew how much she liked it when he ran his hands down to her behind and pulled her close as he teased her mouth.
Slowing things to a simmer, he had no complaints about a leisurely journey to full throttle. Each step had its own merits. One thing he’d learned in the service was patience. He’d give her all the time in the world. He wanted her begging for release, trembling under his tongue. By the time he was done with her, they’d both be too wasted to care about anything but gaining their strength back.
“I have to go to work at five, remember?” she said.
“What? Today?”
Cassie nodded. “Life is full of trials and sacrifice.”
He let go of her long enough to lead her down the hall to the master bedroom. The first order of business was to pull down the bedding. Then he turned back to beautiful Cassie, glad she’d been too busy looking at his furniture to start undressing. He wanted to do that.
“It’s nice,” she said. “Very sleek.”
“My sister helped me pick it out. She’s good with that sort of thing.”
“Ah. But is it your taste?”
He checked over the dark mahogany sleigh bed, the matching bedside tables, the dresser. “Yeah, I suppose. Honestly, the only thing I was picky about was the mattress.”
“Well, lucky me,” she said, taking her dress in her hands, ready to lift.
He was at her side in a second. “No, no, no. That’s my job. Have I mentioned how much I like this dress?”
She shook her head.
“Well, I do.” His fingertips went to her shoulders. So close to bare, and yet those two delicate straps were all that stood between him and seeing those pert little breasts. Tasting them, making those nipples bud. For him.
He slipped one finger under each strap. “It must have been so hard for the guys in your class to take that test. One look at you in your sundress and they were done for. I could barely drive home, wanting to watch you. Waiting for the hem to climb up those gorgeous thighs. Picturing what lay beneath.”
Pulling the straps over her shoulders, he wondered if the dress would simply fall. No, sadly. The bodice was just snug enough that it would take a bit of effort on his part.
“My goodness,” she said, her voice throaty and low. “What’s gotten into you, Captain Devil?”
“Uh-uh. Backward. It’s the thought of me, getting into you, that has me like this.” He steadied her with one hand as he let her feel how hard he was. It had happened so fast, from zero to flight speed. The dress, it had to be the sexy dress.
“That must be uncomfortable,” she said, bucking into him.
He hissed. “It is, but I’m not ready yet. You’re not, either,” he said, nibbling on her earlobe as his hands went back up to the dress. Determined to bare her from the top down, he went about distracting her with tongue and teeth, concentrating on her very sensitive earlobe as his fingers slipped between the material and her skin.
For a long moment, he simply enjoyed rocking with her, standing next to the bed, the tease of stripping her as erotic as the feel of her. But he wasn’t made of stone and with every whimper and sigh, he grew less patient.
Pulling back, he tugged the elasticized top down inch by slow inch. There was the paler flesh that didn’t see as much sun, and oh, God, the slight pink of the edge of her areolas. He held his breath as he stretched the yellow dress down farther, farther, and there they were. Her perfect nipples, already firm and so sweet he couldn’t stop himself from bending over and taking one delicious nub in his mouth.
Her gasp wavered as he heard her head go back. Taking full advantage, he sucked, swirled his tongue, flicked the tip until her hands were in his hair, pulling just enough to make things interesting.
After a particularly long moan, he switched things up. Not just to her left breast, but both hands slid underneath the material, up her thighs.
She shivered, tugging at him until he sucked harder, then held the base of her nipple between his teeth while he pointed his tongue, showing her what he planned to do when he had her panties off.
It shouldn’t have been possible to get harder, but when he realized she’d worn a thong he wanted to rip off his jeans before he hurt himself. The tiny little silky number was as easy to remove as a tug. It was the sexiest thing on the planet and she was all his.
He stood up, stared at the wet tips of her breasts. The crumpled silk white thong on the floor. It was incredibly erotic to have her dress pulled down like that, to have the lower half of her covered in sunshine-yellow.
He took off his shirt in record time, toeing his shoes off while he undid his belt and his jeans. His boxer briefs had a dark spot that was growing, and the only thing he could do was get rid of them ASAP.
He debated hitting his knees. Sneaking up under her dress and making her come while she stood inches from the bed. But he wanted to see more than he wanted to imagine.
He lifted her, bride-style, and spread her out on the bed. Ah, his decision had been a good one. Because now he got to flip up the bottom of her dress. “Oh, damn,” he said, his voice a hell of a lot rougher than it had been a few minutes ago.
She was the picture of voluptuousness, her hair tousled, her breasts rising and falling, her perfect little bikini lines pointing straight to where he wanted to go.
“You are gorgeous,” he murmured.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
“It’s okay,” he said, running his hand up one thigh as he nudged her legs apart with his knees. “You don’t have to flatter me. I’m a sure thing.”
Her laughter made his cock twitch and his mouth water. Or maybe that was the silk of her flesh, the hint of moisture he could see peeking out from her pink folds.
He hunkered down, inhaling her scent, hard as he’d ever been. Thank God, they had a couple of hours in front of them. He intended to use every last second.
15
CASSIE DIDN’T EVEN TRY to pretend she wasn’t staring at John as he drove to her apartment later that day. She’d have just enough time to change clothes and pick up her car before she had to get to work. She’d showered at his place, alone, thank you, because he’d worn her out. She pressed her legs together. God, he’d been an animal. And very clever.
His ploy to divert her attention away from the discussion about his reenlistment had worked like a charm. But he hadn’t actually removed her short-term memory. He’d made it very clear, though, that he didn’t wish to discuss the issue. Which would have been fine if she hadn’t given a damn about him.
Unfortunately for her heart, she did. Even though she’d known from the start this thing between them was nothing more than a fling. Maybe because she knew she wasn’t risking forever, the temptation to bring up the topic again wouldn’t let her alone.
It would be far simpler to drop it, but she’d be doing him no favors. The odds of him listening to her weren’t good, and when measured against the very real possibility that opening her mouth now would end them, it seemed like such a foolish risk.
One she was going to take.
She might just be the only person in his life who could see him objectively. Or full of herself. But what if all his other friends and family could only see him as a pilot, nothing else? What if they bought the pretense that all was well because, God knew, John was excellent at putting on a good front.
It occurred to her that she might be projecting her own issues about Tommy onto him. Different circumstances, but also her inability to be firm with her brother was gnawing away at her soul. She didn’t like being a coward. John was a good man. Honorable, considerate. He’d gone the extra mile for her when he’d known very little about her.
Most important, he was in pain. She couldn’t walk away from that with a kiss and a smile.
“I’m going to say some things now that you’re not going to like,” she said. “You can forget them all the moment I step out of the car. That’s up to you. But I need to say them because I like you a great deal.”
His head listed to the side, and she could see his annoyance in his profile. “I appreciate it, Cassie. I do, but please, don’t. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“But you did. And I can’t let it drop. I know you have a dim view of psychology, but I’m not thinking with my textbooks. I mean this from the heart. A stiff upper lip can only take you so far. I’m sure it’s a valuable resource when you’re in battle, but the only war you’re waging at the moment is the one that’s inside you. Your closest friend has had his life turned upside down. You’ve lost someone who mattered a great deal to you. Both of them mirrored your own life so closely, you can’t help but identify down to your DNA.”
She frowned. “From what I understand, you have to make a major decision about your future in a matter of days. I can only urge you to go talk to someone. Someone impartial. Someone who might have a different perspective that could shed some new light. Look, maybe you have it all figured out, but I think if you did, the decision wouldn’t be tearing you up inside.”
His sigh, along with his grip on the steering wheel, told her she’d struck out completely. But at least she’d given it her best shot. She just hoped that would be of comfort when she never saw him again.
“Then again,” she said, “maybe all you need is a couple of potted plants in that condo of yours. A goldfish or two might just do the trick.”
His smile was tight, and so was her gut. Damn it. Survivor’s guilt was never going to be a strong foundation for life-changing decisions.
“Thanks for the input,” he said. “I’ll certainly take it under advisement. Well, maybe not the goldfish.”
She laughed, even as she recognized the dismissal. His timing was perfect, she’d give him that. They pulled up in front of her place a moment later.
