Booty Call
Page 16
He slides the ring onto my finger before tugging me onto his lap. “Forever sounds perfect.”
THE END (FOR NOW)
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BOOTY CALL
the postscript
If you’re wondering about that secret Tumblr inspiration board I mentioned… here it is.
Please note that this link contains pictures of people doing all sorts of awesome, sexy things to each other. Don’t click on it at work, in front of children or mothers-in-law, or at the supermarket.
nsfwromwriter.tumblr.com
—acknowledgments—
Sadie Haller has been my first reader since the very first Hate F*@k serial part. I love that she loves my dirty heroes and my lippy heroines as much as I do, and I’m grateful beyond words that she drops everything to fact check and comma check and do the occasional real life choreography check, too. I don’t believe any Mr. Hallers were injured in the making of this book, thank goodness.
Maria Rose gets my second sincere thanks for her amazingly quick turnaround on proofreading. A reader who can catch a missing article in the middle of a sex scene is a valuable friend indeed.
My Ainsley’s Angels Facebook group. I’m sorry I’m so quiet most of the time. I promise it’s because I’m busy creating filthy scenes for your favorite characters.
Every single reader who loved Hate F*@k and has been waiting a year for more from this world. I promise the next one won’t take me another year.
My husband, for being proud of everything I write. Even the fisting scene. Sorry if anyone asks you about it. You can tell them I saw it on Tumblr. Your call if you want to share my secret inspiration board. I love you. Stop blushing.
~ Ainsley
www.ainsleybooth.com
—also by ainsley booth—
contemporary military romance
writing as
— ZOE YORK —
SEALS UNDONE
I named this series SEALs Undone because that’s exactly what happens. Big, tough Navy SEALs are undone by the women they fall hard for. These stories are light on conflict, big on romance, and short enough to read in a single night.
I hope you enjoy!
~ Zoe York (Ainsley Booth’s contemporary romance alter-ego)
— FALL FAST —
Navy SEAL Nathan Meyers and recent divorcee (as of an hour ago) Emme Ryan both want a night of escape from their real lives, for very different reasons. A chance meeting and a single drink at an airport bar turns into a night of unexpected fun and pleasure when a freak snow storm keeps them on the ground. But when morning comes, will they stick to the rules they set out at the start of the night?
— AN EXCERPT —
Nathan Meyers stood in the Terminal 2 departures hall at O’Hare Airport and groaned. He shouldn’t be surprised that his flight from Chicago to San Diego was now delayed by more than two hours—a vicious winter storm was working its way toward the city. His sister had bugged him to check the flight status before he left her house, but as much as he loved Kelly and her brood—six kids, plus her husband and Polish mother-in-law—he’d been ready for some peace and quiet after three days of non-stop Uncle Nathan Fun Times.
He found a map of the terminal. It looked liked all the beer was on the other side of security, so he had two options. Head back out into the snow, or go through security early and find a burger or something.
Easy choice.
Dodging around travellers with oversized suitcases and grumpy faces, he scanned his e-ticket from his phone at the nearest available self-serve kiosk, printed his boarding pass, and headed for security.
Most of the time he flew around the world in military transport planes. But when he took detours like he had this weekend, hopping over to Chicago for some post-Christmas family time to make up for being in a South American jungle over the actual holidays, he had a simple travel routine down pat. One carry-on bag, boots unlaced in line, Navy ID visible at the top of his wallet.
The pretty redhead in front of him had the same idea, but where he carried a canvas rucksack and wore Doc Martens, she had a small wheeled suitcase and zippered boots. She wore dressy clothes for a stormy night, a slim black suit over a green t-shirt, but her iPhone case had a big No Doubt sticker on the back and when she turned around to be wanded, her shirt rode up a bit and he caught a glimpse of a navel piercing with a dangly skull resting against the slight swell of her belly. His gaze stuck on the curved waist of her dress pants, and he imagined an entire dirty-girl fantasy in the two seconds it took her to be cleared.
Damn.
When she motored ahead, her scarf slipping off her jacket and landing on the floor between them, he knew exactly how he wanted to spend the next couple of hours.
“Hey!” He snagged the cream silk from the floor and jogged after her. “Excuse me…”
Even in her heeled boots, she was small compared to him. Small and speedy. He gently tapped her elbow when he caught up, getting her attention. When he snagged her gaze, it was wary. With a smile, he stepped back and held out the scarf. “I think you dropped this.”
Her eyes flared wide and her lips pulled together in a surprised O. “Thank you.”
Holding out her hand, she grasped one end of the silk, but he wasn’t ready to let it go, not when he’d just gotten her bright blue eyes pinned on his face. He liked them there, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “My flight is delayed.”
“Pardon?”
“I think they’re all delayed right now.”
“Yes.” She tugged on the scarf and he let it go. “Thanks again.”
“So I was going to get a beer and a burger, and if your flight is delayed as well, I’d be happy to buy you dinner.”
“Ah. No thank you.”
“No strings attached, promise. I’m flying home to San Diego tonight, and we’re under the watchful eye of the TSA. Sure I can’t keep you company? I know some good knock-knock jokes.”
— —
Emme knew when she was being hit on in the casual, just-for-fun kind of way. In her early days as a flight attendant, she’d indulged in this game more than once. But today wasn’t the day for fun. She couldn’t help but smile back at the tallest, broadest, sexiest man she’d ever seen and wish she’d dropped her scarf in front of him any other day but today. And maybe that he lived a hair closer than San Diego, a city she rarely flew into.
“Well, I do like a good kids’ joke, but I’m on standby for a flight that leaves in forty-five minutes, so I’ll have to pass.”
With a twinkle in his eye, he pointed to the display above their heads. “Not likely.”
In the few minutes it had taken her to get through security, all flights had been grounded. Damn it.
She knew what this meant. Not only would she not be getting a standby flight tonight, anywhere, but she’d probably get called in to work early tomorrow. And since she hadn’t fled the city fast enough, and she could use the money, she’d take the shift.
Fudgesicles. With a sigh, she turned back toward security. “That’s my cue to head home to bed, then.”
“Alone?”
Even though he’d obviously meant the question as a light flirtation, the question slid under her skin painfully. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, wanting to yell at someone for her forced period of solitary over the last year. “Yes. Alone. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“That’s a shame.” This time he said it straight up, his dark brown eyes warm with apology, but also with something she hadn’t experienced in far too long—attraction aimed her way. An invitation. Like, if he wasn’t heading to San Diego, maybe he might actually like to spen
d a night in her bed.
And since she knew he probably wouldn’t be flying tonight, wouldn’t that be worth exploring?
But she couldn’t break her almost-two-year sex drought with someone as hot as he was. She’d need a few practice rounds before taking on a guy like… “What’s your name?”
He grinned, slow and sweet, like she’d just given him the moon. That was a nice touch, but a little too practiced. She held her hand up between them before he could answer.
“No, don’t tell me. Never mind.” Spinning around again, not entirely sure how he’d knocked her off her course to home, she refocused on the sensible path.
Apparently he wasn’t a fan of abrupt goodbyes. This time he didn’t use his words to turn her around, he just reached out and slid one of his big, strong hands around her forearm. Heat radiated through her light blazer, and as soon as he had her facing him again, he let go. Persistent, but not pushy. He walked that line with care.
He narrowed his eyes in thought, then nodded. “Okay, no names. I like that, gives a bit of mystery to the next few hours. I’ll call you Red, and you can—”
Emme laughed despite herself. “No. Never Red.”
“Shorty.”
Another giggle, and an unfamiliar warmth spread across her chest. This was weirdly fun. “Ew, no.”
“Mystery Girl?”
Yeah, that would work. “You can call me M for Mystery.”
“M.” God, she liked the way he said her name, thinking it was just a letter. The trick jostled something inside her, spilling a drop of liquid desire in places she’d thought of as scorched earth. “And what should you call me?”
Sir. She could feel her cheeks flush at the thought, and from the way his eyes danced at her, he maybe could guess where her mind had gone. That was okay. They were flirting.
Holy crap, she wanted to do a little jig. She was flirting with a cute boy. The weight of the last week—the last year—fell away, and she cocked her head to the side. “How about we grab that dinner you mentioned and figure that out together?”
— —
The redhead seemed to know her way around the terminal. She quickly settled them in a booth at a bar and grill, then busied herself with the menu.
Nathan let her hide for a minute before giving in to his base desire to see her eyes again. “So what else is off-limits? Can I ask where you were flying tonight?”
She blinked up at him, weighing the question for a minute before setting the menu aside. “Texas.”
He laughed. “Wow, top-secret information, eh?”
“San Antonio.”
“For absolutely no reason?”
“Pretty much.” She leaned back against her side of the booth. “Your turn to be totally forthcoming about something.”
“I’m going to San Diego.”
“That’s not new information.”
“Because I live there.”
“Neither is that.” She stuck her tongue out at him, an unexpectedly playful response, and he decided to give her something.
“I’m in the navy. Originally from Chicago, hence the visit here.”
“Cool.” She picked up her menu again, coyly this time, and slowly slid it in front of her face. He let her get it up to her eyes before tugging at the top and shifting it to the side. “Hey, I was reading that!”
“I’m pretty sure this isn’t your first or fifth time in this bar, and you know exactly what you want.” He slowed his words down, teasing her a bit, because until his plane took off, he’d be happy to give her whatever it was she wanted, any way she’d take it.
“Okay.” She set the menu down and crossed her hands in the middle of the table, seemingly oblivious to his double entendre. Nathan was struck with the strongest urge to touch her hands—long, slim fingers topped with neatly trimmed nails. Feminine but strong. He wanted to lace their fingers together, but he held himself back because she was so skittish. She rewarded him with a laughing grin. “I’m a flight attendant. Happy?”
“Very. If I play my cards right, maybe you’ll call me up the next time you’re in San Diego.”
A cloud drifted over her face, and he regretted saying too much.
“Hey, it’s okay. Are you… Is this a problem, us having dinner?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Nope, not at all. Other than it’s the first time I’ve done anything like this in a long time.”
“That sounds like it has a heavy story behind it.”
With a sigh, she blinked her eyes open, a determined look newly in place. “Not one that matters tonight. And…that’s all I can handle right now—just tonight, okay?”
“Sure.” He tapped the menu. “What’s good?”
Two club sandwiches and a shared order of fries later, he knew his mystery woman liked tomatoes but not pickles, was addicted to hate-watching reality shows, and she was the youngest of four—something they had in common. And she was still nameless.
“Okay, M.” He crumpled his napkin and tossed it onto his empty plate. “Time to nick-name me.”
As she appraised him from across the booth, she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, and he found himself staring. Such a cliché, and he didn’t care. She had a damn pretty mouth.
“West Coast,” she started, and he frowned his disapproval, much to her obvious delight. “Big Guy. Gentle Giant. Little One.”
“No. Only in the bedroom. No. And absolutely never.”
“Is Sailor too obvious?” She blinked up at him as she asked, and her voice had dropped in a husky wave of words that gave him half a hard-on.
He cleared his throat, totally unnerved by how perfect the name sounded on her lips. “No, that’ll do.”
“So, Sailor.” From the pink of her cheeks, the nickname worked just as well for her. “What do you like to do for fun?”
KEEP READING NATHAN’S BOOK NOW!
—copyright—
All Rights Reserved
Copyright 2016 Ainsley Booth
Table of Contents
Contents
Booty Call
about this book
dedication
part one
one
two
three
four
five
six
part two
seven
eight
nine
ten
eleven
twelve
thirteeen
fourteen
fifteen
sixteen
seventeen
eighteen
nineteen
twenty
part three
twenty-one
twenty-two
twenty-three
twenty-four
twenty-five
twenty-six
part four
twenty-seven
twenty-eight
twenty-nine
thirty
thirty-one
thirty-two
thirty-three
part five
epilogue
the postscript
my inspiration
Acknowledgments
If you liked this book...
Copyright