Fighting for Flight (Fighting, #1)

She blinks once then again. “I promise. You’ll never lose me, Jonah.” She rests her forehead against mine. “Never.”


I pull her to my chest and she nestles in.

“No more hanging up on my ass either,” I say while I rub her back.

“Okay. As long as you never call me the b-word again.”

“Deal.”

She sighs and nuzzles her face against my neck. I feel the brush of her nose under my ear. As if touching isn’t enough, she breathes in deep, taking a little bit of me inside her. I stifle a groan.

Shifting on my lap, she tempts me with her sexy ass. The sweet fragrance of her shampoo combined with the feel of her soft body permeates my brain. I’m overwhelmed with the burning desire to be inside her. My blood races. The primal man in me wants to stand up and beat his chest, knowing that he’s found a woman to claim, to mark her as his own, going places with her that no man has gone before.

“I love you, Raven.”

She tilts her head up to look at me. “I love you.”

I brush my knuckles against her cheek. “Can I show you?”

Her eyebrows drop low.

“Make love to you, baby.” I answer her unspoken question.

Her body goes rigid in my arms and she studies my face. Whatever she sees seems to agree with her. A sexy smile pulls at her lips and damn if that doesn’t seal the deal.

Nodding her head slowly, I stand with her still in my arms. She cups my face, her thumbs at my dimples, and places feather light kisses against my mouth. I race to the bedroom, her giggles bouncing against my lips the entire way.





Seventeen



Raven

Locked in Jonah’s bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror. My hands grip the counter and I lean in to study my face: red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes and a wild mane of dark hair framing my pale face.

“Lovely. I look like a zombie. Real sexy, Raven,” I whisper to myself.

Even though I took a shower a few hours ago, I decide another one might help to rinse the dead, decaying look from my face. I pull my hair into a messy bun to keep it dry, and stand under the warm water. A good scrub of my face has me feeling human again. I hop out and the reality of what’s about to happen has me patting my body dry faster than usual. Butterflies swirl in my belly along with eager anticipation.

A smile pulls at my cheeks, flooding my body with warmth. I push the obstacles from today to the back of my head and lock my worries away. They’ll still be there tomorrow. Tonight, it’s just us.

I brush my teeth and throw on a new pair of panties I bought on my last Victoria’s Secret shopping spree. After I slide the bright blue lace up my legs, I check out my reflection from all angles.

This particular style is called The Cheeky and while checking out my backside, I can see why. The low slung, hip huggers are made of delicate lace that cut up dramatically in the back accenting the full curves of my bottom. I bought these with Jonah in mind. He can’t seem to keep his hands off my booty, and I can’t wait to see what he thinks of these.

I forgo a bra or tank and decide topless is the way to go. I run a brush through my hair and allow the messy waves to fall in haphazard disarray.

A quick peek into the bedroom reveals lit candles, soft music, but no Jonah. I race to his bed, arms crossed at my chest, and crawl on top. Lying on my stomach, I take deep breaths to calm my nerves.

He has so much experience with sex. What if I disappoint him? He’s used to sexually confident women who probably hang from the rafters or stand on their heads. I can’t compete with that.

“Stop it. It’s going to be fine. You can hang from rafters,” I whisper. Muffling my giggles into the pillow, I picture myself in some ridiculous position which only antagonizes my nerves.

Think sexy. No giggling.

I breathe deep, and visions of Jonah quiet my thoughts. I welcome the sultry voice of Ella Fitzgerald and the smell of lightly scented candle wax to soothe my frazzled nerves.

I hear the click of the bedroom door as it opens then softly closes. Still on my stomach, my arms folded under my head, I turn to see him and almost choke.

Jonah’s in nothing but a pair of black pajama pants. They hang low on his hips exposing the v of his lower abdominal muscles, dusted with dark hair. Holy crud. His inky black hair is spiked with moisture. He must have taken a shower in the guest bathroom. Kaleidoscopic arms, bulging with muscle, tense at his sides, I gawk at his masculine body then settle on his smiling face. His hazel eyes move over me in a visual caress, causing a tremor of need to vibrate beneath my skin.

“Fuck. You look so sexy right now.” His deep voice and dirty talk have me trembling.

My eyes lock on his as he crosses the room to the bed.

“You take my breath away.” His penetrating gaze roams over every inch of my form. “Don’t move. Stay just like that.”

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