Her Airman

by Allyson Lindt

  “What’s wrong?” Though her question was soft, it stood out among all the background noise. Distinct and tempting.

  The few faint snatches of reason left in his head pointed out he didn’t want to go down this road with Riley. She deserved better than a hard-on-fueled fuck-fest in the back of his truck. She deserved better than him.

  He dragged the reminder to the front of his thoughts and forced his voice to remain firm. “I know we said the what happened while I was gone is done and over—the past is in the past, sex ruins friendships, all that—so fair warning. You’re way too tempting to ignore when you do things like press your body against me.”

  That should have been that. He expected her to pull away, maybe refuse to look him in the eye, and then they’d find a new comfortable middle ground.

  Instead, she shifted her weight, rubbing her frame against him. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “It is if you meant what you said.” There was no way she didn’t feel how hard he was, his cock digging into her hip. Impulse surged stronger. The one that wanted to bend her over the pool table, regardless of how crowded the place was, and drive inside her.

  She didn’t struggle against his grip, even when it tightened enough for his fingers to dig into her skin. A flush spread over her face, and her pupils dilated. “Do you really think the cyber stuff was a mistake?”

  He swallowed. How the hell was he supposed to answer that? “I never said that.”

  “You implied it.”

  He forced the gears in his brain to unstick—to push past her soft scent, her gentle curves, her skin against his. “Neither one of us wants to get attached,” he said.

  “I never said anything about getting attached.” The corner of her mouth pulled up in a mischievous smile, and she broke one hand away from him. She trailed down the chain around his neck, grasped his dog tags, and tugged lightly.

  “You don’t want to go down this road.” His restraint had stretched past its snapping point. He gripped her wrist. Hard.

  Her delighted gasp didn’t help. “I do. Tell me you’re not interested, and I’ll never mention it again. No hard feelings.” Her lips hovered centimeters from his, obliterating reason.

  Pinning her down. Running his hands over her body. Experiencing in person the moans that drove him wild over the phone. If she were involved in a no-strings non-relationship with him, maybe she’d think harder about falling for the next doorknob that came along.

  Logic argued that didn’t make sense.

  He gagged logic and shoved it in a closet. “What about sex ruining friendship?” It hadn’t yet. Even if they hadn’t gotten physical, they’d described about everything else to each other.

  She hesitated, but her confidence flooded back quickly. “I promise it’s just sex, and so do you. I trust you, so if you say it, I’ll believe you.”

  Seemingly from nowhere, someone collided with Riley, and beer spilled over her top. Zane let go as she gasped and jerked back, her hands flying up. The booze soaked her pale shirt, suctioning it to her body so it clung to every curve. Zane struggled to pull his gaze from her tight form, full breasts, and rigid nipples, visible through the lace of her bra.

  “Watch where you’re going.” A large man stood next to them. He slammed a mostly empty beer stein on the pool table, dribbles running over his clenched fist.

  Fury nudged Zane’s senses. Loudmouth ran into her, not the other way around.

  Riley flinched away, brow furrowed. “What the hell?” She shook her hands, and drops of beer splattered the floor around her.

  “Stupid bitch.”

  Anger spurred Zane forward, powered by protective instinct, and unrequited lust. In an instant, he was nose-to-nose with the loud asshole. “Apologize.”

  “Fuck you.” Loudmouth pushed Zane’s shoulder. The stench of warm beer radiated from him. “Tell your bitch to watch where she’s going.”

  All conversation stopped around them. People turned to stare, and camera phones came out.

  “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal.” Riley’s pleading voice was soft amid the growing murmurs.

  Zane didn’t like fighting, but there were some things a person just didn’t back down from. Like seeing his friend blamed by a drunken jackass for something she didn’t do.

  He grabbed Loudmouth’s wrist and pulled it away from his own shoulder. In a single movement, he twisted and was behind Loudmouth, pulling the other man’s fingers toward the base of his neck. Zane applied enough pressure to convey he could do worse, but not enough to cause injury. “It is a big deal. He owes you a new shirt, but a genuine I’m sorry would be a good start.”

  Loudmouth growled and jerked away, breaking Zane’s grip on him. “Fucking asshole. I’m sorry your stupid girlfriend got in the way of my beer.” He tensed his shoulders, spread his feet shoulder-width apart, and brought his fists up in a boxing stance. He wavered in his stance before steadying himself.

  Zane kept his posture casual, staring back without flinching. If Loudmouth lunged, he’d find himself on the ground with a mouthful of carpet, and probably a broken bone or two. Zane only partly hoped it would come to that. He made sure the anxiety of his hammering heart didn’t show in his movements. The seconds ticked away, seeming to stretch into eternity.

  “Asshole.” Loudmouth narrowed his eyes for a moment, and then turned toward the exit, grumbling under his breath.

  There was no need for Zane to go after the guy. All he wanted to do was diffuse the situation. As his adrenaline receded, the reassurance repeated in his head until he almost believed it.

  “Excuse me.” A firm voice jarred Zane from his brief meditation. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Zane eyed the bar employee, the fight part of fight or flight still coursing through him. The guy was shorter by a couple of inches but bulkier, and the way his shirt stretched over his chest said he was muscular. Zane swallowed the resurge of instinct. He’d already dispatched the threat.

  He shook his head, to clear out any residual argument, and wrapped an arm around Riley’s waist. “Right. Sorry about the floor.” He tossed a five on the table before leading her outside.

  Almost every gaze in the room followed their short path. The stench of greasy food and booze threatened to resummon Zane’s dinner. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last slice of pizza. They pushed outside, and the cool air washed over them.

  Chapter Six

  Riley should be embarrassed about what happened inside with the drunken asshole, or upset about being asked to leave or something. Instead, all she could focus on was whether or not she’d made a mistake suggesting no-strings sex with Zane.

  Her thoughts were still stuck on his cock digging into her, moments earlier. The dampness that pooled between her legs when he grabbed her wrists. Her desperate desire to find out how he kissed.

  Zane opened the passenger door of his truck and reached behind the seat. He grabbed a spare T-shirt and handed it to her. “I should take you home.”

  The dismissal nagged her. She had to resurrect this somehow. He was as interested as she was. If she could change out of her ruined top here, she didn’t need to go home. She dropped into the passenger seat. “Don’t move.”

  She reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, and his eyes grew wide.

  “Do you want me to turn around?” he asked.

  The flush was sexy, and the propriety was endearing. If he hadn’t already turned away, maybe he was still considering what she’d said. She let out a tiny laugh, trying for seductive but—she was pretty sure—coming off as nervous instead. “I said, don’t move. You’re my human curtain.”

  In a single fluid gesture, she managed to pull off her soaked shirt and bra and slip the new one on without completely exposing herself. As she poked her head through the top of the shirt, she caught a glimpse of him forcing his gaze from her chest back to her face.

  “That takes talent.” His voice was an octave
lower. She knew that sound. She’d heard it a few times on the phone, when he told her how he wanted to tie her to the bed and fuck her till she screamed.

  And now that image was in her head. She ducked her head, feigning shyness. “Thank you for what you did in there.”

  He leaned against the frame of the truck, studying her. She couldn’t read the thoughts behind his eyes, but she could almost convince herself the worst thing she saw was uncertainty.

  “Does this mean you don’t need to go home and change after all?”

  So she hadn’t completely ruined things. Relief flooded her. “Not yet. Did you have something in mind?”

  “Let’s drive and talk.”

  He closed her door, and seconds later, he was seated and pulling onto the road. But he wasn’t talking. His gaze stayed fixed on the road, his hands on the steering wheel.

  Riley shifted in her seat. What should she say? She hadn’t planned to proposition him, but as the night wore on, the idea had climbed into her head and refused to budge. And when he all but laid out that ultimatum, she had to grab her chance.

  Sure she was done with falling in love, and the best way to break the habit was to stay single. But Zane was right that she really missed the sex that typically came with being half a couple. More than six months without a guy to cuddle up against, clothed or otherwise, left her with a longing that her toys didn’t sate.

  And more than two years of no contact with Zane, after everything, made her body plead for him to be the solution.

  Besides, he wasn’t looking for commitment either. They already knew so much about each other. She adored him, but not romantically. There was no one else, except may be her sister, she trusted more.

  She watched the road fade into the darkness as his truck climbed farther away from the houses dotting the side of the mountain. They were on the east side of the valley, high above even the multi-million-dollar homes. The valley floor with its endless lights made the sky and its stars look like a reflection.

  They pulled onto the shoulder of a familiar dirt road. Riley didn’t know how many nights they’d spent on the side of the mountain, either wanting a view of the fireworks shows below or just talking.

  He shut off the engine and stared ahead, gripping the steering wheel. He finally turned to her. Something heavy and sad lingered behind his pale eyes. His smile was weak. “I hope this is okay.”

  “Of course.” Her fast reply sounded too loud—too chipper—to her ears.

  He climbed out. “You coming?”

  God I hope so. Maybe best to keep that thought to herself for now.

  She followed him to the back of the pickup. He dropped the tailgate and slid into the bed, back to the wall, one knee pulled up to his chest, and arm resting on top.

  She hid her frown. His posture wasn’t a good sign. There had been a time when they’d have lain down in the back of the truck to watch the stars, her head on his shoulder, and never thought anything of it. Now he looked as though he didn’t want her anywhere near him.

  They could talk through this. It would have been nice if he’d agreed to take things to the next level, but she’d said no hurt feelings if he wasn’t interested. She crawled into the truck bed opposite him and leaned forward, legs tucked to the side.

  “So, not that it’s a big deal...” he said.

  Oh geez, she really had screwed up. “You know it sounds like a very big deal, right?”

  “I do.” He dropped his forehead onto his knee for a moment before looking at her again. “You wanted to know where I’d been for the last two years.”

  Her breath caught, and her pulse slowed. Desire skittered away in favor of hearing whatever he needed to say. “I figure it’s top secret, but I am curious.”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “Top secret. Yeah.”

  “Tell me what you’re allowed. I’m listening.”

  “A couple of years ago, I got a new assignment. They wanted me doing some heavier surveillance. It was a huge challenge, so I jumped on it.”

  Of course he did. If his tone weren’t so somber, she would have smiled.

  “They told me I was getting them into some really tough places. Networks most people couldn’t crack. Then they gave me someone new to report to.”

  “Okay...?”

  He ran his fingers over the stubble on his head. “We did this differently than I’d ever done surveillance before. This woman excelled at her half of the job, and the entire idea was brilliant. Terrifying, but brilliant.”

  Riley forced back her wince at the unabashed compliment for another woman. “How so?”

  “You know how phishing and spoofing work, right?”

  She nodded. The recipient clicked on a link they thought was taking them to one place, and it took them to another instead, while capturing the associated login information.

  “This is spoofing meets psy-ops. She chatted people up online. Nothing damning. Friendly shit—How’s the dog? Did you have a good vacation? If she couldn’t connect with her target online, she’d do it in person. Pose as a waitress, barista, or random lady at the gym. Whatever. The goal was never to dig deep. She only wanted to talk about the kind of things most people let slip to the right stranger. That work is stressful, or their back hurts, or the kids kept them up all night worrying about college admissions.”

  It sounded so benign. Which cranked Riley’s curiosity.

  “My job...” He paused. “My job was to send those people email. Spoof it and make it look like it was from someone they knew and trusted. A boss. A girlfriend. A daughter. I had to make the email completely real and passable, so it didn’t get stuck in some spam filter. The recipient clicked the link—I don’t know, social media, whatever—and it passed through a gateway that downloaded the tiniest little Trojan in history, and we had full access to their computer. They ended up where they thought they were going and never questioned it.”

  “Wow.” She was wary enough not to click those stupid links from strangers that said things like, guess what I just heard about you online, but never hesitated when the messages from her friends looked genuine.

  “Yeah.” He dragged out the word. “It wasn’t my job to look where we were going, just to get us there and make sure we stayed.”

  Riley’s head spun with the information.

  “Except one night, things changed.” Zane traced tight lines around a bolt in the tuck bed.

  “What?”

  “She left me alone for the first time.”

  “Before that, you were together twenty-four, seven? Long stakeout?”

  He let out a dry laugh. “Something like that. I only figured out later, but it had a lot more to do with the fact that I wasn’t under the same watch restrictions as before.”

  “Watch restrictions?” This was some straight-out-of-the-movies shit.

  He nodded. “I poked harder than normal that night. I got bored and skimmed one of the computers I’d planted the back door on. The name caught my attention. American name. American IP... There was absolutely nothing top secret about that machine. It was some teenager’s laptop. The worst things on it were a couple of emails she’d sent a friend, about sneaking out to get drunk that Friday night.”

  “Why were you spying on American teenagers?”

  “I wondered that too. Every time my CO left me alone after that, I dug into another machine. The further I went, the more I looked, the more I realized I wasn’t fighting the war I signed up for.

  “This was some serious CIA shit. We were spying on civilians. The kind of people no one realizes are a threat to national security. Some of it was monitoring for treason-level shit, like ensuring no one was selling our secrets. Most of it was more benign—ensuring there was no price fixing on contract bids. Things along those lines.”

  She didn’t know what to say. It was so Tom Clancy, but digital with a heavy side of invasion of privacy. “How does knowing someone’s teenager got drunk on Friday night tell you if they’re selling out their country?”

&n
bsp; “No one is tight-lipped every hour of every day. Especially not the people who think they’re too smart to get caught. Some senior VP for a military contractor finds a second source of income from a country who may not be so fond of us, or he takes a bribe during contract negotiation—anything like that. He keeps his mouth shut in public, but he usually tells his wife. Even if he doesn’t, suddenly the family has things they didn’t before. The kids are going to expensive private schools, or they’re bragging to their friends about the new swimming pool, or the wife has a new car. A new wardrobe.”

  That made a scary amount of sense. “So you looked for anomalies.”

  “I didn’t, but I made it possible for someone else to.” He shook his head, doubt and anger hiding behind his gaze. “As I dug some more, I realized she—my new commanding officer—was on location with me, to try to make my job change to the CIA official. Which made sense, when I thought about it. There was absolutely no reason for us to be working in the same room otherwise.”

  What could Riley say to that?

  He stared back, a sad smile on his face. “So I confronted her. She didn’t deny any of it. Instead, she offered me a job. The kind of work we’d been doing, but more of it, and good money on top of that. They were impressed I’d scraped so much without getting caught. Basically, I’d passed their test.”

  “So when you say you turned down the job for ethical reasons...” Holy shit.

  “Spying on armies and rebellions and organized groups trying to take down governments is different than peering into private lives because they might be selling government secrets—but probably aren’t. We weren’t working off a list of probable suspects. We watched everyone who had any connection to anything.”

  Riley couldn’t hide her wince.

  “Besides. Part of me still needs to prove...”

  She waited for a moment. “What?” she asked when he didn’t finish his sentence.

  “Nothing.” The single word was soft in the night. “Stupid shit.”

  A gust tore through the night, making her pull in tighter on herself. She saw the guilt and pain in his expression. Heard the hesitation in his words. He wasn’t telling her everything, and whatever he held back devoured him. “Like what?” she asked.