Fighting for Flight (Fighting, #1)

He takes the long way to my place, making sure to hit some of the most beautiful parts of town. On a particularly long stretch of road, I loosen my hold on his waist and tighten my knees at his hips. With a quick prayer, I throw my arms over my head, completely free, and howl like a wild dog. Jonah’s body shakes with what I assume is laughter, but I can’t hear over the roar of the bike. A little embarrassed by my blissful liberation, I wrap my arms around his body and hug him to me.

We pull up to Guy’s Garage, and Jonah parks the Harley right next to my Nova. I swing my leg over the bike and dismount while he holds it steady. Pulling my helmet off, I smooth the tussled ends of my hair. Kickstand down, I admire him as he comes off the bike. He exudes confidence and stability, like a man well aware of his body and its capabilities. His red t-shirt hugs his torso, and his jeans are baggy but tight in all the right places. He removes his helmet and walks around my car checking it out. He’s seen it plenty of times from a distance, but never close-up.

I study the look of concentration on his face. “Well, what do you think?”

His gaze snaps to mine. “What do I think? I think it’s amazing.” He bends at the waist with his hands on his hips to look in the driver’s side window. “Original interior, stock shifter, steering wheel . . . Raven, baby, you did this?”

I’m back to perma-grin status. My chest swells with pride at the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, it took me two years saving money for parts and working on it in my free time.”

He closes the space between us and wraps his arms around my waist, placing his hands on my bottom. Just like in his kitchen, the simple touch ignites my blood and I feel something I don’t feel often. Sexy.

“I’m so proud of you, babe. This,” he gestures to the car with a nod, “is incredible. You are incredible.”

His words penetrate deep into my soul, shaking the useless rubble of the protective wall he destroyed just last night.

Pushing up to my toes, I place my hands on his chest and slowly brush my lips against his. His grip flexes against my bottom. I make another pass at his lips, and another, then open my mouth and allow the tip of my tongue to drag against his full lower lip. He reaches into my hair and tugs gently, angling me to him and taking no prisoners. His lips cover mine, tongue thrusting into my mouth. A groan rumbles against my palms, sending my blood soaring. His kiss is possessive and dominant, and I moan into his eager mouth. Without warning, I feel the sunbaked metal of my car against my back as Jonah pins me there. He grinds his hips into my belly and my legs go weak. Time passes, minutes or hours I’m not sure, as I lose myself in his kiss.

“We need to slow down before we get arrested for indecent exposure.” His wicked grin and hungry eyes have me thinking it’s worth the risk.

He holds me firmly against the car until my breathing calms and I regain the use of my legs.

“You okay?” he asks, a wolfish smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m good.”

With two steps back, he releases me from his hold, but grabs my hand.

He shrugs one shoulder. “Show me your place.”

I head for my apartment in a Jonah-induced fog. Will I ever get used to being with him? Or will I be stumbling over my feet every time we’re together.

“Ray!”

Just steps from the alley, I hear the unmistakable call. Guy is standing in the bay, his glare so tight I can’t see the color of his eyes.

“Um, I’ll be right back.” I let go of Jonah’s hand only to feel him hold on tighter.

“No. I’m coming with you.” His expression is relaxed, but determined.

This should be interesting. Guy has never seen me with a man before, mainly because I’ve never dated one. And now here I am, walking hand in hand with The Las Vegas Casanova.

“Hey, what’s up?” My unusually high voice has Guy’s scowl narrowing.

He looks back and forth between Jonah and me, his eyes darting from our joined hands to our faces. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh, uh . . . well, we just—”

“Raven and I are dating, sir.”

Guy’s face goes from pinched and small to wide and slack. “Dating.”

“Yes, sir.” Jonah pulls me to his side, letting go of my hand and throwing his arm over my shoulder.

I smile up at Guy, who’s back to glaring. This time, it’s aimed directly at Jonah.

“Didn’t know you were the dating type, son.”

My heart races at Guy’s blunt confrontation of Jonah’s reputation.

“Never was. I am now.” Jonah’s answer is accompanied by a firm squeeze.

I want to jump up and down at the certainty that laces Jonah’s words. Instead, I wrap my arm around his waist and hug him to me, smiling huge at Guy.

His face relaxes, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Right then.” He points in Jonah’s face, putting on his best fatherly expression. “Behave yourself.”

Now it’s Jonah who’s fighting a grin. “Yes, sir.”

With a curt nod, Guy walks back into the garage. I exhale the breath I was holding and lead Jonah to the alley. That went well, but if I know Guy, we’ll be talking about it later.

We take the stairs to my door, and I watch the playful humor slide from his face. I grab my keys and open the door.

“This is it.” I motion for him to enter.

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