“Go?” he asked.
“Go.” She let go of the bar bolted above the hatch, folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t make me say it again!”
He cupped her forehead and tipped her head back against his shoulder, then wrapped both hands around the bar, rocked back, and flung them forward out of the plane. The first few seconds out of the plane in unabated free fall were such a powerful rush. He expected ear-splitting screams, but all he could hear was the shriek of the wind against his ears. He knew she hadn’t fainted because her arms were still tightly crossed, and she was straining to keep her legs lifted between his. Holding position. All in.
He tapped her shoulders, and she flung her arms out, fingers stretched wide, and let out a scream of pure joy. “Oh my God, this is amazing!”
He laughed, then glanced at his watch, where the altimeter recorded their descent. Forty seconds and he’d deploy the main chute for a five-minute drift to the landing zone. He held out his hand, palm down, in front of Erin’s face, and she slapped it hard, giving him an exuberant, very high five.
“Arms in!” he shouted.
She jerked her arms back in, and he pulled the main, rocking them hard against the harness as the chute expanded, slowing their fall considerably. As they drifted toward the landing site, a powerful possessiveness thrummed inside him, vibrating like the cords connecting the chute to the harness. He was the one who protected her while she pursued her dreams. He was the one who set her free.
“It’s so beautiful,” she called back to him.
“Yeah,” he said, looking at the color high in her cheeks, the grin splitting her face. “Beautiful.”
When the ground rushed up to meet them, she lifted her knees to her chest and let him make the landing. He stuck it, taking three big steps forward until he got his balance and the chute drifted down behind them. Crouching a little so Erin could get her feet on the ground, he yanked the chute down out of the breeze, then released the straps holding her to him. She sprang away with a whoop and ran in a tight circle in front of him.
“Holy cow!”
“Uh huh,” he said, wrestling with the chute.
She shook her clenched fists and bounced on her toes. “That’s better than the Duc,” she said, emphatic, shoving the goggles up to her hairline. “That’s amazing. Exhilarating.”
“Pretty much,” he said.
She reached out and grabbed his harness, hauling him a little off-balance. “Arousing,” she said, and kissed him.
He remembered this, too, from his first few jumps, the adrenaline rush triggering a predictable male response, but it had been a long time since he’d gotten hard jumping out of a plane. But when Erin’s mouth crashed into his, hard and open and so completely alive, he went from blasé to aroused in three heartbeats. Blood bloomed hot and coppery on his tongue. He fought off the chute and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, holding her close for a hot, possessive, tongue-tangling kiss. Something was different deep inside him, something he hadn’t predicted or expected, but what his body was telling him was true and there and real.
She shoved away with a delighted gasp, then shook her hands hard and held them out for his inspection. Her fingers visibly twitched, even in the gloves; if he took them off, she’d be trembling. His body recognized the hot, wild look in her eyes that boded very, very well for an incredible afternoon in bed.
“Look,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said, and held his hands out in response.
His were rock solid. Not a twitch, tremor, or ripple in them. He blinked, and pulled off his gloves, tucking them under his arm, then did it again.
Granite. His hands were back, and not just his left, but his right. His trigger hand, his rifle hand, his dominant hand. He was as steady as the foundations of a skyscraper.
His body knew. His body knew it was ready to go back to work. He searched deep within himself and found it to be true.
Not recognizing that anything was different, she gripped his hands and peered into his eyes. “I want you. Now.”
He gripped the back of her head and pulled her in for a hard, swift kiss. “I know exactly how you feel, sweetheart, but trust me on this one. You want this back at your place, in a bed, curtains drawn, total privacy. Because I’m going to take my time and make you scream.”
A full body shudder ran through her. She nipped his lower lip, then looked around. “I don’t know,” she said. “Out here, in the field, under the sun?”
“Bed,” he said firmly, because once the adrenaline wore off she would be sore from the harness. He had plans for her: a bathtub and a hot oil rub before round two started.
She pouted prettily for a second, then brightened. “The ride home is going to be electric.”