Fighting for Flight (Fighting, #1)

I miss her when she’s not around. I never miss women. Hell, I go months without seeing my mom and sister. Never bothers me. Raven’s been away from me for twenty-four hours, and I’m going nuts, as if something valuable were missing.

When she was here yesterday, I was shocked at how quickly I gave in to the urge to touch her. We stood so close at one point our eyes locked in a lusty stare down. I was ready to explode. Then she had to go and lick her lips. I would have kissed her if I thought I’d be able to stop there. The way I was feeling, I would have taken her on the hood of the car. Mental images assault my brain, eliciting a groan from deep in my chest. She’ll be here soon, and here I’m mentally fucking her on my car.

The doorbell rings, shaking me from my fantasy. She’s here. I adjust my board shorts before I throw open the door to the object of my obsession. My smile falls.

Owen pushes past me with bags of what I assume is food. “Good to see you too.”

“Hey, Nik.” I kiss Owen’s wife on the cheek.

“Jonah, how are you?” She gives me a quick hug. “Owen baby, just throw that stuff in the kitchen.”

Nikki is the resident chef at all our barbeques. She knows her way around my kitchen, so I leave her to it.

Owen drops the bags then walks straight to the backyard bar. He angles his barstool to face the sixty-inch flat screen and turns on Sportscenter.

I join him outside, grab a beer, and settle in. Halfway through my first beer, Caleb and Rex show up. The guys argue whether the San Diego Padres will go to the World Series. Owen says it’ll be the A’s. I’m sure it’ll be the Yankees, but I stay out of the conversation. Nikki’s voice, along with a couple other female voices, cuts through the conversation.

“Jonah, your guests are here,” she calls from the sliding glass door.

Her announcement silences the baseball talk as everyone turns to see who it is.

Holy fucking shit.

It’s Raven.

And she’s wearing a dress.

Thankful for my sunglasses, I let my eyes roam her body freely. Her dark hair is braided to the side, the thick chocolate rope lying against the swell of her breast. My gaze lingers on her cleavage, the dress accentuating her already perfect form. The flowing fabric ends well above her knees, exposing her long, toned legs.

I vaguely notice the blonde at her side. That must be Eve.

As they walk toward the bar, I can’t take my eyes off Raven. She glides across the yard in that unconsciously sexy way of hers. A deep moan from one of the guys at the bar has me turning my head. They have their greedy fucking eyes locked on my girl and her friend.

My girl?

Possession flares, having me step away from the bar to meet them, effectively cutting the girls off from the ogling, lecherous dicks behind me.

“Is this a joke?”

“Didn’t see this coming.”

I hear the mumbled comments from the numb-nut gallery, and ball my fists to keep from flipping them off.

“Ladies, glad you could make it.” I’m impressed that my voice didn’t crack under the pressure.

“Hey, Jonah.” Raven tilts her head, motioning to her friend. “This is my friend, Eve. Eve, this is Jonah.”

“Hi, Jonah.” Eve shakes my hand and peruses the backyard. “Nice digs.”

“Thanks. Come on. I’ll introduce you to the guys.”

I direct the girls to walk ahead of me with the idea that I can place my hand on the small of Raven’s back. It’s a gentle way of claiming her in front of the guys. It’s either that or plunge my tongue down her throat in front of everyone, and something tells me she’s not quite ready for that.

She brushes past. Her delicate pear fragrance fills my lungs. I bite my lip and lust saturates my brain. My fingers burn to bury themselves in her hair and pull her to me.

I place my hand where the slope of her spine flows to her ass and nearly stumble over my feet. There, on the backdrop of her perfect olive skin, is the tattoo that has been taunting me for days. A flock of blackbirds serpentine from her shoulder, dipping below the fabric of her dress. From the scale of the tattoo, I’d say the birds start at her hip.

The view evokes images of her laid out naked before me. Running my tongue along my lip, I imagine what it would taste like to kiss her from one end of her tattoo to the other. To feel her skin, warm, soft and sweet against my lips. I’m already hard as a rock, and I haven’t even seen her in her bikini yet. I go over baseball stats, trying to ease my raging need.

“This is my friend Owen.” Raven rakes her sunglasses up on her head. “The pierced one is Rex, and the one who looks like he just jumped off a tractor in Idaho is Caleb.” She nods through the introductions. “Guys, this is Raven and her friend, Eve.”

I watch closely as my friends size up the girls. It’s not wasted on me that they seem to find the two women attractive. But they linger a little too long on Raven’s eyes.

“Damn, girl. You got some wicked peepers.” Owen’s observation has the rest of the guys agreeing in grumbled affirmations.

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