Tequila

by Rebecca Sharp

  On a sweet, strained cry she came apart against my mouth, honeyed desire coating my lips and dripping down my fingers. Her fingers flexed in my hair and a surge of possessiveness flared inside me.

  Whatever happened after tonight, I knew one thing was for sure—I wasn’t letting her go again.

  I drank every drop of release squeezed from her body before it was washed away by the water. Slowly, I slid my fingers from the clutch of her body and placed a gentle kiss to the mound of her pussy.

  Ever so slowly, her eyes peeled back open and her gaze fell down to mine.

  “Holy shit, Logan,” she breathed.

  I grinned proudly. “You’re welcome.”

  Sparks flared in her gaze. “Oh, I didn’t thank you,” she taunted me with a smirk that would’ve sent me to my knees if I wasn’t there already. “Not yet.”

  Sliding her leg off my shoulder, she reached for my washcloth.

  “Stand.”

  Complying, I gritted my teeth as she made quick work of soaping me clean, lingering on only the most sensitive parts to drive me insane with need before shutting the water off and reaching for our towels.

  Shay planted her hands on my chest, pushing and backing me out of the bathroom toward the bed. “This way, Mountain Man.”

  When my knees hit the edge of the mattress, she shoved a little hard to send me backward.

  “Shay…” I hissed as she slowly peeled my towel back from my waist, letting my cock spring free.

  Taking her time, she stroked up the swollen shaft all the way to the purple head, teasing over the tip where moisture beaded eagerly.

  “So hard, Logan…” Her tongue swiped over her lips, and I knew what she was thinking.

  My dick bobbed against her hand wanting to know the feel of her mouth, but I knew I wouldn’t last. I reached down and gripped her wrist, staying her movement.

  “Need to be inside you,” I rasped, dragging in each breath like it was my last.

  “And what if I want to taste you?”

  “Sweetheart, you put your mouth around me right now and I won’t be able to stop from choking you with my dick, I need you so bad,” I warned.

  Damn stubborn woman had the nerve to tease me with a second or two as she contemplated the offer.

  “I guess I’ll have to save that pleasure for later then,” she drawled sultrily, reaching into my nightstand drawer and pulling out a condom.

  Rolling the sheath down my length, I let out a long groan when she finally finished and cupped her hand around my balls, weighing and stroking them.

  With a low roar, I reached for her arms and tugged her on top of me, her breasts crushed to my chest as I covered her mouth with mine, punishing her with my tongue.

  Instantly, she was moaning and arching herself against me. Fierce. Passionate. Loving. Her legs spread and cradled my cock at their hot juncture, welcoming it with a gush of slick warmth.

  This was the Shay I knew. The one I encouraged. The one I wanted her to love being.

  The one that was both Wonder Woman and a wanton.

  The one that could be strong and confident, but also vulnerable and needy.

  Being both didn’t mean sacrifice.

  Being both made her more powerful.

  Gripping her thighs, I spread her legs even wider, parting the hidden entrance between them to nestle myself along the length of her slit. Almost immediately, she began to rub against me, drenching me with desire as her fingers spread into my chest and she pushed herself up.

  Reaching between us, she grabbed my cock, positioned the tip at her entrance, and sank down completely, ripping a shout from my chest and something between a moan and a cry from her own.

  I was flying. Or falling. Or maybe even dying to be back inside her.

  Fuck, she felt incredible.

  Heaven. Home. And all mine.

  Her wet and tight pussy squeezed around my shaft making it impossible to keep my eyes open, my senses overloaded from where she forced her body to swallow the thick length of mine.

  Giving us both a second to recover, I dragged my eyes opened to stare at her. Wet hair dragged over her shoulder, her full tits arched toward me with their pink tips hard and begging to be touched. My gaze slid down over her quivering stomach, down to where her thighs spread wide and the folds of her pussy stretched around the base of my shaft.

  With a low moan, she widened her knees and gave me the deepest access to her body before rising up and sinking back down. She gave me all of her, I thought as my tip bumped against her womb before rubbing along her sweet spot.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled as pleasure ripped through me. Pleasure I’d been holding back in the shower now fought for release.

  She whimpered and rocked herself on me again, rubbing me against the needy bundle of nerves buried inside her, the treasure my cock would always search out. My dick thickened, so incredibly turned on watching her find pleasure on my cock.

  “Touch yourself,” I commanded through clenched teeth.

  Her eyes popped opened, holding mine as she covered her breasts with both hands. Each time she tugged on her nipples, I both saw and felt her body’s reaction as it tightened around me.

  After the fourth thrust, Shay was too drunk on pleasure and I was too desperate. Gripping her hips, I pinned her steady as I rammed into her body. Sliding against her G-spot each time I buried my cock impossibly deep, it only took two more thrusts before she exploded around me with a scream. Her walls closed around me with a death grip and it sent me over the edge.

  With a low, guttural roar, I exploded inside her, the tremors of her orgasm elongating mine as I filled the condom with my cum.

  My body came apart and then found its way back together with her a part of it. I loved her. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—lose her again. Whatever I had to do. Wherever I had to go. I would do anything to keep this love.

  It was the only thing that mattered.

  Hand shaking, I held her there, pinned on top of me, until the tremors of our orgasms finally slowed and faded.

  When her eyes finally peeled open and found mine, I saw in them a mirror of my own.

  A wordless reflection of the only truth left between us.

  We’d come here searching for different things, but what we’d found was love.

  Finally.

  I looked around through the cloud of relief that had begun to settle over the emergency center.

  The waters were receding. The roads that had been closed, cutting off Estes from the world, were going to be reopened tomorrow. Everyone had hope rather than heartbreak written on their faces. There were still people unaccounted for, but not for much longer.

  Finally, the flood was drawing to an end.

  If there is one thing that tragedy brings, it’s perspective. On life. On love. On what’s important to focus on.

  The people of Estes Park had lived without connection to the world for almost a week; in that time, I realized I’d been living like that my entire life.

  Purposely.

  I’d cut myself off, afraid that what connected me would also tie me down—and I didn’t have time for tethers; I needed to rise.

  But as the people here pulled together during these last days, I realized it was connections that made us stronger.

  Superheroes were the ones that lived in Bat Caves or in secret headquarters, saving the world from their lonely lofts. Because in fiction, one can save the world single-handedly.

  I’d never wanted to be a superhero, yet I’d made myself live like one.

  Logan was right.

  Real heroes make mistakes. Real heroes overcome them. And real heroes know they are stronger with a network of support.

  My gaze stopped on my mountain man—imposing and unforgettable as ever.

  Last night was incredible. Last night was nothing like what I’d thought it would be.

  I’d fallen and he’d caught me, just like he promised. And it solidified what seemed like the foregone conclusion in my mind that I didn’t
want him to let me go. I couldn’t.

  I didn’t know what my career in the military held, but I wasn’t going to stop pushing forward because of one mistake. And I definitely wasn’t going to push forward without Logan by my side.

  I linked my fingers in front of me, rubbing my thumbs over the back of my hand in anticipation. Just a few more minutes and we’d be heading home.

  Home.

  Another word I refused to go any longer without. Thankfully, it didn’t turn out to be as stationary as I expected, rather it was a title attached to a person instead of a place.

  Which was what I needed to tell him.

  We’d passed out in each other’s arms last night and this morning, woke up to the duty that called to us both. But tonight, he’d be all mine once again and we’d figure out what our future held.

  The waters may have cleared, but the flood inside me swelled to tell Logan that I couldn’t—wouldn’t leave him after this.

  A real hero strived to be the best. A real hero fought forward even after she fell. And a real hero wasn’t afraid to be in love.

  Love was like flight. You were either soaring or you were stationary; you were either suspended off the ground or you weren’t. And there were only moments of in-between.

  Maybe some people needed more. Just like some people would never want to fly a fighter jet. But for me, I didn’t need more time with Logan to know I loved him. Just like when I took off in a plane, I didn’t need more time in the air to know I was flying.

  And right now, I didn’t need more time to know I was feet-off-the-ground, defying-gravity in love with him.

  And I needed to tell him.

  “One of them has to go!”

  My attention snapped back to the present, hearing Logan’s shout from over where he stood with Chief Larimer and two soldiers from the National Guard.

  My brow furrowed, and I made my way through the small crowd over to them to see what was going on.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded, looking over the four men.

  Logan speared a hand through his hair, glancing at me with pure irate frustration blazing in his eyes. “We just got a call about a medical emergency from one of the houses still stranded in the canyon.”

  The older police chief sighed, the weight of the last week aging him as he explained, “There’s a young girl with her family in one of the houses. She’s Type 1 diabetic and, because of the flood, they weren’t able to get her supply of insulin. Her last injection was over a day ago and her mom says she’s going into diabetic ketoacidosis.”

  Oh, god.

  “And we don’t have a helicopter available?” I asked bluntly, knowing that wasn’t the case.

  I saw two of them in the large parking lot they’d been using as one of their landing spaces when we returned back not even twenty minutes ago.

  “They won’t fly,” Logan accused, turning to the two commanding National Guard soldiers whose scowls said they were equally as frustrated.

  One of the soldiers, the ranking one, Rodgers, stepped forward to clarify, “The weather isn’t good and predicted to get worse. We’ve grounded all air support for the night. It’s too dangerous. This disaster has already claimed enough lives. We’ll head out to her as soon as the storm passes and get her to the hospital in Fort Collins.”

  “She could be in a coma by then,” I snapped, stepping to face him.

  His jaw vibrated. “Look, ma’am, if you don’t think I want to help this little girl, you couldn’t be more wrong, but I can’t risk—”

  “She could fucking die before you decide you can risk something,” I charged and then turned to Chief Larimer.

  My eyes met Logan’s on the way and there was a split second of unspoken communication between us—one where he acknowledged what I was about to do and where I refused to apologize for it.

  My heart pounded against my chest and everything else seemed to fade except for exactly what I knew I needed to do.

  “I’ll go,” I told the chief, watching his eyes bulge.

  “Shay—”

  “What—”

  Four sets of wide eyes, one of them furious, settled on me. But there was no question in my mind. No doubt.

  “I’ll take one of the choppers to get her,” I insisted, standing tall.

  “Miss,” the chief began steadily but not without confusion. “We’re talking about flying a helicopter. I know you want to help but you—”

  “I can’t let an untrained civilian fly a helicopter on a whim, lady,” Rodgers snapped behind me.

  My fist tightened.

  “You’re right. You can’t.” I stepped into his face, getting so close I could see the small beads of sweat leak from his pores. In his eyes I saw every other person who looked at me like I couldn’t do something. “But I’m not a civilian.”

  I turned back to the chief and introduced myself with every ounce of hard-fought pride I’d come here thinking that I’d lost.

  “Sir, my name is Captain Shay Covington. I’m with the Fifty-Fifth Fighter Squadron out of Shaw Air Force Base and a pilot in the Viper Demo team.” When his mouth dropped, I turned back to the other man. “I know my three hundred combat hours have mostly been spent in an F-16 dodging enemy fire overseas, but I think I’m qualified enough to fly a helicopter in this little storm to save the girl’s life.”

  It would’ve been amusing, watching them trade stunned glances at my pronouncement, if there hadn’t been a life at stake.

  And then, like I knew it would, a look of recognition passed over Rodger’s face as his eyes narrowed on me.

  “Wait… the Captain Covington who—”

  “Knows how to fly a fucking helo,” I finished for him, daring him to mention my removal from the demo team’s command.

  I might not be their leader. But I was still a pilot. I was still in service. And I was still fucking able to make a difference.

  “So, are you going to stand here and waste lives arguing my credentials, or are you going to let me save them?” I demanded with a red-hot tone.

  Having the decency to look put in his place, Rodgers replied, “You could die in the storm trying to get her.”

  Like I was smart enough to fly fighter jets but not smart enough to realize that.

  “And she’ll die if I don’t,” I said through clenched teeth.

  Rodgers looked to the chief who put up his hands, his mouth disappearing into a thin line of admiration. “I’m not going to be the one to stand in her way.”

  There was another beat of silent standoff before Rodgers caved.

  “Reed, get the captain a suit and have Marshall start up helo one,” he said to the serviceman standing next to him before facing me.

  “Alright, Captain Covington.” He addressed me with a respectful nod. “Let’s get you some wings.”

  Logan’s hard footsteps trailed behind me. I knew he’d follow me up until the very last second when I stepped into the helicopter.

  Given the smallest suit they could find, the helo was packed with medical supplies and insulin for the girl while I hauled on my gear, listening as Rodgers explained to me the location of the house I was looking for.

  “Once I reach the girl and get her the insulin, I’ll head for Fort Collins.” Thunder rumbled in the distance. “I need you to contact them and let them know to expect an incoming helo within the hour.”

  There was no point in stating that I was going to lose radio signal once I headed out into the storm.

  “Once you get there, Captain, don’t come back,” Rodgers instructed and I could feel the ripple of Logan’s wince behind me.

  By saving this little girl, I was escaping the flood zone and, except for him, there was literally nothing here of mine for me to come back to.

  “The storm is supposed to get pretty bad,” he went on. “Stay in Fort Collins and I’ll make sure one of my men is there waiting to return the helo as soon as it’s safe enough.”

  I nodded, ignoring the tightness in my chest and throat.
>
  Rodgers went to leave but then paused and told me, “You’re a real hero, Captain.” My spine stiffened as he saluted me.

  I returned the gesture and watched as he walked away, leaving Logan and me out in the parking lot.

  “Shay,” Logan growled.

  I didn’t have to look at him to know the thoughts that plagued him—that once again I was going to leave and not come back. Whether by death or by choice.

  I turned with a pleading look. “I have to save her,” I said, brokenly. “Are you going to stop me?”

  The silence between us was heartbreaking.

  He stepped toward me and cupped my face, his forehead dropping to mine. “I don’t want to stop you, Shay. I never would,” he promised me once again. “I just need to know I’ll hold you again.”

  The sounds swirling around us swallowed my small cry.

  “You will,” I promised him in return even though we both knew it was a promise I wasn’t really able to make.

  His hands fell, and he took the smallest step away from me. Letting me go. Setting me free.

  And when he did, I felt my heart break and sever away from my chest, choosing to remain with him rather than come with me. I didn’t begrudge its choice; it was the right one.

  Backing away, I headed for the chopper, sitting empty while the blades whirled above the cabin.

  I reached the landing skid, about to climb inside when I stopped and turned to look at Logan one last time.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded immediately when I paused.

  I stared at him for a long second, memorizing all the hard, possessive angles of his face and the fierce love thundering in his gaze.

  And then, before he asked again, I gave him a brave smile and yelled over the whipping blades above me, “Some people hesitate when they know they might not see something they care about ever again.”

  My emotions felt as though they were being torn apart by the very blades rotating above me.

  I turned and climbed into the pilot seat, refusing to look at him again and swearing to myself the ‘I love you’ I’d heard was only an imagined echo against the sound of the machine.