by JoAnn Ross
“Apparently you were,” she said. “Tell me, Lieutenant, did you go back to your ship and carve notches into your bedpost?”
“It’s called a rack,” Finn said easily, grateful to see the return of her spark.
They’d gotten into some deeper, darker territory than he’d expected. And right now, all he wanted was three things. To first, beat IV to a bloody pulp, then, second, throw him into the sea to be torn apart by sharks. And to make this woman happy. Since Covington wasn’t worth doing hard time for, Finn decided to concentrate on the third one.
“And no, I’m not one to carve notches. I remember all three from that night because that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”
That was no lie, but the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Not that Finn was all that sure Sister Bartholomew would approve of the circumstances. Fortunately, the voice of his conscience remained silent.
She bit her bottom lip. Her eyes, which had reminded him of Bambi’s when the fawn’s mother had died, smiled ever so slightly. “Mine, too.”
It was a near whisper, but Finn had no trouble hearing it.
“Maybe we should try it again,” he suggested as he walked toward her. “Just to see if it was a fluke.”
“It’s a high bar,” she said, taking the hand he’d held out to her.
“True. But I’m willing to accept the challenge.”
* * *
They held hands as they walked into the bedroom, just as they had in his suite. For a man who’d lived in the fast lane of fighter jets, who’d first taken her with a power and speed that both of them had wanted, needed, tonight Finn seemed in no need to rush.
After he’d pulled back the comforter and tossed some condoms he’d come well prepared with onto the night table, she watched, fascinated, as he framed her uplifted face in his hands. Then leaned forward, closer and closer, until his mouth touched hers. Gently. Persuasively.
It was barely a whisper of a kiss, but she could feel it through every cell in her body. Lifting her arms around his neck, Tori leaned closer.
“I’m not going to fall in love with you.” Finn Brannigan was a good man. He deserved the truth.
“Thanks for the warning.” His lips smiled as they plucked at hers.
“Seriously.” It was happening all over again. Fast or slow, it didn’t matter. She was melting into him. “We don’t even know each other.”
“I think we do.” His hand tunneled through her hair. Cupped the back of her head as he changed angles and had her trembling with anticipation. “More than you’ll admit.”
“It would be a mistake,” she managed to say, and all the reasons this could turn out a terrible mistake began to drift away, like morning fog over the glassy lake.
“Perhaps.” He drew the kiss out as he slipped a hand beneath her T-shirt, splaying his long, dark fingers against the rapidly heating skin beneath her breasts. “But it won’t be the first one I’ve made.” With clever fingers that reminded Tori how well this man knew his way around a woman’s body, he dispatched with the front clasp of her bra. “And it’s definitely one of the most enjoyable.”
Too late, a little voice in the back of her mind warned as he brushed his fingertips over an exquisitely sensitized nipple, then the other as he took her mouth again, the kiss longer, deeper, reaching straight to the center of her well-guarded heart.
“Your skin is like silk.” His palms cupped her breasts while his thumbs continued to stroke.
“It’s Barbara Ann’s lotion,” she managed as other body parts began to heat up.
“It’s you.” His hands skimmed lower, unfastening the button at the waist of her jeans. Lower. More. This might not be love. And Finn might not be the man for ever-afters. But he was the man she wanted, needed, for tonight. “Only you.”
She nearly wept when he finally lowered the zipper, the sound incredibly loud in a silence broken only by the hushed breeze fluttering the leaves of the quaking aspens outside the open window, the deep bass croak of a bullfrog in the lake reeds calling for a mate, and the distant lonely sound of an owl, perhaps complaining about the lack of darkness.
And their breathing, which, as he captured her mouth once again, seemed to have synced to an identical rhythm.
He trailed a finger along the low-cut waist of her panties. “Like silk,” he murmured. “I’ve dreamed of this.” His teasing touch went lower, over her mound, cupping her. “Damp silk.”
“That’s you,” she tossed his words back at him as her heart somersaulted at the tenderness and her body shuddered at the heat.
“Be still my heart.” He patted his chest, his smile slow and easy.
“Are we going to talk? Or do this?”
Tori was beginning to feel uneasy. A one-night stand with a stranger was one thing, even if it could have been, if she’d let it, a life-changing event. But they were creating a connection that went beyond wanting to need. Which was scarier even than when she’d gone through a neighborhood haunted Halloween house in the fifth grade with her girlfriends during a sleepover. That had been three months before her parents had been killed.
“I was figuring we could do both. It’s been a long time, and I’m doing my best to pace myself here.”
That caught her attention. Then again, there probably weren’t a lot of opportunities for sex on an aircraft carrier. “How long are we talking about?” she asked as she took hold of the hem of his T-shirt. Although she experienced a tug of regret when he had to take his hand away to lift his arms so she could pull it over his head, the sight of his chest was nearly worth the sacrifice.
“Since we were together at the Del.”
“But…” That cleared enough mist from her head to allow Tori to do the math. “That was a year ago.”
“Give or take a few days,” he agreed.
“Why?” She was the one who’d wanted to avoid any more conversation and just get to the safe sex part, but she had to know.
“There was a lack of opportunity while I was deployed,” he confirmed what she’d already considered. “And it wasn’t for a lack of opportunity.”
Why don’t you tell me something I couldn’t guess for myself?
“But none of those other women were you.”
He was such a good man. Such an honest man. Even as she told herself this could turn out to be a disaster, Tori could no more resist making love to him, just one more time, than she could fly to the moon.
Just when she felt as if she were sinking into quicksand, sassy, got-it-all-together girl returned to save her. “You sweet-talkin’ sailor.” She trailed a fingernail down his torso, over those rock-hard abs. God, how she loved the feel of him! A memory of that arrowing of crisp hair pointing to below his belt against her bare breasts set her head to spinning.
“I want you,” she said as she resisted ripping at his jeans and instead began working at the buttons. Who had ever thought five-button jeans were a good idea? As good as they looked, it couldn’t have been any woman as desperate to be laid as Tori was. “All of you. Now.”
“You’ve got me.” He held out his arms, inviting her to finish what she’d begun. “Now.” Two more buttons to go. “For as long as you want.”
“Hooyah,” she said as she finally released him from the navy blue knit boxer briefs. He was everything she’d remembered. So large. So hard. So deliciously smooth beneath her fingers. And for this stolen time, he was all hers.
* * *
Finn had never known it was possible to literally ache for a woman. But he ached for Tori. From the sight of her, as he undressed her, slowly, trying to make this midnight sun last forever.
Her perfumed skin gleamed like gold dust in the shimmering light that, on a perfect summer day, turned the sky around Denali to a soft, buttery yellow. Her dark curls spread out on the down pillow like lush strands of dark silk.
He ached from the feel of her. The way her breasts seemed to have been created to fit into his hands alone. The subtle curve of her waist leading
into a swell of hips, her lean legs, which opened to his stroking touch. The softening of her warm, willing body against his.
He ached from the taste of wine, of woman, of dreams once lost and now found.
As good as that night at the Del had been, this was somehow better. Finn felt the passion racing beneath her heated flesh as she trembled beneath him while emotions swept across her face and clouded her eyes. Tori was his. As he was hers. At any other time, such a powerful sense of belonging would’ve hit like a cluster bomb, but deciding to think about that later, Finn spread her legs farther apart, nipped each inner thigh, then, with just his mouth and tongue, brought her to a quick, fast, climax that caused her to cry out.
Her thighs were quaking, and she’d gone limp. But not for long, Finn vowed. “That’s one,” he said as he returned his mouth to hers, letting her taste herself on his tongue. “In a minute I’m going to need you to turn over.”
“Bossy,” she managed, even as she arched against his caressing touch. “What if I don’t?”
“No problem.” He flipped her as easily as John Black down at the Caribou could flip a flapjack. Then settled himself, knees on either side of her thighs. Brushing her hair to one side, Finn leaned down, and nuzzled her neck, drawing forth, not a complaint, but a long, shimmering sigh.
He kissed his way down her spine, then lifting her hips, he slid silkily, slowly, into her. Filling her. Claiming her.
Her breath grew quicker and her hips began to circle in a rhythm that matched his and went on and on. And on.
“Oh. My. God!” Limp, boneless, she collapsed onto her stomach.
Two.
“Stay with me, babe,” he said, rolling over onto his side and drawing her close, holding her until she’d come back to wherever she’d flown. Finally, she opened her eyes, which were blurry with sexual satisfaction. Then, another of those prolonged moments of seriousness arose between them as she studied him. Looking hard and deep.
Damn. Mary was right. He should have told her the truth before they’d gone this far. But since this definitely wasn’t the time, he ran his hand across her shoulders, drawing forth a throaty purr.
“Let me take care of something,” he said. If only they’d been at his place, he would’ve been prepared for the damn condom change. “And I’ll be right back.”
He took care of business, which wasn’t all that easy considering that his dick wasn’t exactly in a state to be messed with, then returned to find her on her knees, holding up the condom she’d taken from the second package. Looking at her, all flushed and warm and delectable, Finn knew exactly how Adam must have felt when a stunningly naked Eve had shown up with that glossy red apple.
“Ahoy, Lieutenant,” she greeted him, her eyes now clear and laughing. “Prepare to be boarded.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Finn answered. After sprawling onto his back, he had to suck in his gut to maintain control as she rolled the latex down his length.
She knelt over him, as he had her, then, curling her fingers around him, holding him just where and how she wanted him, she slowly eased herself down, her body taking him in. Closing around him.
She was nearly there when she paused, her hands splayed on his chest, her eyes on his.
“You do realize you’re killing me here,” he managed to say through clenched teeth while his tongue felt as thick as a two-by-four.
“Really?” Proving that those smooth thighs were a helluva lot stronger than they looked, she slid down another inch. Then, dammit, stopped again.
He could finish this, Finn thought as his heels dug into the mattress. He could lift up and he’d be home.
But understanding that this was about more than sex, he focused every damn atom in his body into remaining stone still and prayed for strength while ceding control.
She touched her fingers to her lips. Then his.
Then, finally lowered herself the rest of the way.
Finn had traveled the world. He’d seen some amazing and wondrous sights that were now tucked away in his memory to revisit. But he knew that the sight of him and Tori joined—bodies, minds, hearts—would remain with him the rest of his life.
He had no idea how long that extended moment lasted. All he knew was that when she began to move, he was lost.
21
Finn had been flying over the mountains for six hours, looking for something, anything on the ground. He was beginning to wonder if he was going to have to return to the carrier without seeing any action when a piercing noise filled his cockpit, warning him that a missile had locked onto his jet.
Years of training immediately kicked in. Since most SAMs flew a lead collision intercept course, flying to a point in the sky where they think the target will be, his only way to survive was to force it to re-compute a new intercept course.
While releasing chaff and flares to hopefully confuse it, he began a high G pull, rolling as he climbed, moving rapidly through three dimensions. Unable to keep up with the Hornet as Finn performed the roll, the SAM missed. That was the good news.
The bad news was that the highly aggressive defensive move had used up a lot of energy, bringing him down to one hundred and fifty knots and eleven thousand feet, which left him vulnerable to another missile. One which, dammit, both his wingman and the cockpit siren were warning him about.
Looking back over his shoulder, he saw a second SAM about a thousand feet away, closing hard on his tail. Unfortunately, there was no way to outrun it. Nor did he have the power to repeat the maneuver. Having lived with the knowledge that a fighter pilot didn’t always leave the cockpit the way he got in, Finn reached up, pulled his ejection handle, and watched the canopy fly off.
Less than half-a-second after the rocket thrusters sent his seat flying into the air, his parachute jerked open.
And Finn jerked awake, an instant before the missile blew his jet apart.
The nightmare was a familiar one. Unlike the other times, as he took a few deep breaths to slow his heartbeat, Finn wasn’t left feeling that he was about to die. As he looked down at Tori’s silky dark hair spread across his chest and felt her slender legs entwined with his, he realized that the difference was that this time he was no longer alone.
* * *
It was disconcerting, Tori decided a long time later after, together, they’d soared over their previous high orgasm bar. She had no idea how long they’d made love. How long she’d dozed after sliding into a post-sex bliss. No idea of whether she should be getting up to start her day or snuggling closer to him and falling back to sleep.
“How do people adjust?” she murmured against his chest as his fingers played in her hair. Had he been sleeping, too? “I’ve always had trouble with Daylight Saving Time.”
“It’s a gradual thing,” he said. “I’m handling it better than I did when I first arrived. The longtimers say keeping regular hours helps.”
“I think we’ve blown that,” she said.
“But for the best reason,” he agreed, drawing her closer. She could feel his body hardening again, which in turn caused her own to respond. Was it possible to become a sex addict? If it was, she had no intention of going through any twelve-step program.
“It must be difficult, flying at midnight, then starting all over again a few hours later.”
“Since blue light is the most disruptive, wearing shades helps. And Mary sets the schedules to help keep her pilots’ circadian rhythms somewhat in tune. But all the melatonin does result in shorter sleep cycles. I’ve heard about hypomania, where people can go days without sleeping, but haven’t experienced it myself.”
He glanced past her at the clock on the table. “Speaking of which, as much as I hate to bring it up, I probably need to leave.”
“Really?” After messing things up in San Diego, Tori was hoping to be able to spend an entire night together. Even if they only spent the rest of it sleeping.
“The flight path from the mountain to the airport is over this cabin,” he said. “As you’ve already poin
ted out, my Jeep stands out.”
Tori wanted not to care who knew she’d spent the night with Finn. But years of wanting to fit in, to get along, had her realizing he had a point. She’d yet to meet anyone but Barbara Ann, John Black, whom she’d be cooking with at the café, and Nancy Martin, the friendly owner of the Trading Post. She wanted people in Caribou to judge her by her cooking and singing. And her behavior. And sleeping with a guy it appeared she’d just met might make her, to some minds, appear a bit slutty.
“I hate that you have a point,” she muttered.
“You’re not alone.” He cupped her chin in his fingers and gave her a kiss that started out all soft and feathery before turning almost instantly hot. “You know I want to stay.”
“I do.” The proof was in both his warm gaze and pressing against her stomach. “Maybe,” she suggested, “next time we could go over to your place. Then your Jeep would be where it belongs. And so would my rental, parked here.”
Oddly, he went still. And a shutter, like the blackout drapes neither one of them had bothered to pull down over the windows, lowered over his eyes.
He’d gone somewhere. Thinking about something she couldn’t discern. She placed a kiss on his cheek. “Finn?”
He blinked. “Sorry,” he said. “I spaced out for a second.” He rubbed his forehead, seeming uncomfortable. His erection, which had been tempting her to go for a new record, had deflated. But then he flashed her that cocky naval aviator smile Tori had no doubt had caused panties to drop over several continents, and the moment passed. “I just thought of something I have to do before the parade. Some log files I promised Mary.”
“Okay.” As much as she wanted him to stay, Tori didn’t want to cause him to get in trouble with his boss. Feeling oddly self-conscious, which was ridiculous since there wasn’t any part of her body he hadn’t seen, touched, or tasted, she pulled the love-rumpled sheet up over her breasts, tucking it under her arms. “You’d better go.”
“I’ll be back at quarter till ten to pick you up for the parade,” he said as he got out of bed and began to get dressed. “If you’re sure you still want to do it.”
