Fighting for Flight (Fighting, #1)

“Don’t be an insensitive prick.” I shake the wet fantasy from my head. She’s got to be sore. I can’t have sex with her for a day . . . or two. Okay, a day. Give her a chance to recover.

No way can I go in the room when she’s wet and naked in my bathroom. I won’t be able to give her a break if I see her like that. Killing time, I pay a couple bills online, check my email, and play a game of solitaire before I head back to my room.

I stroll down the hallway with purpose and a smile. Sex might be off the agenda for today, but I can think of plenty of other things we could do to occupy our time.

*

Raven

I open my eyes to bright sunlight. Stretching my arms above my head, my muscles object. Gosh, I’m sore. I roll to my back as a smile tiptoes its way across my face.

“This is awesome.” I stomp my feet on the bed under the sheet.

The faint smell of coffee crashes my private party. I throw my legs over the bed, gripping the sheet to my naked chest. I search the floor for my panties, and remember that Jonah destroyed them last night. My lips roll between my teeth to muffle my excited squeak. I’ll make sure to fit a panty-replacement shopping spree into my schedule this week. Maybe I’ll get a few extra pairs of those—

A warm rush of heat seeps from between my legs. My jaw drops open as my hand flies to my mouth.

“Oh no! My period? Crap!”

Wrapping the top sheet around my body, I run to the bathroom and jump in the shower. I do the mental math while scrubbing my body, making sure to be gentle with the tender areas. Ten days early? Impossible. I haven’t missed one pill—my breath hitches.

Not my period! No, that would be embarrassing enough. What just happened, on Jonah’s fancy sheets no less, is a direct result from last night.

“This is so humiliating.”

I can’t imagine what the proper protocol is for a girlfriend who bleeds virgin blood on her boyfriend’s sheets. One thing’s for sure, I need to get those off and get them in the wash before he sees.

Dressing quickly in one of Jonah’s T’s, I throw my wet hair up in a towel and put Operation Virginity Devastation into action.

I race around the bed and toss the comforter to the ground. Ripping pillowcases off one by one, I pile them on the floor along with the sheets. I’m frantically scooping up the soiled linens when I hear the bedroom door open. Frozen in place, I squeeze my eyes shut.

Darn it!

Head down, I sneak a peek, silently hoping I’d imagined it.

“Hey.” He studies the load in my arms, eyes lingering a bit on my legs.

Nope. I’m caught. I hop to standing, losing a few pillowcases on the way, and force my most innocent grin.

“What’s going on?” He tilts his chin to the sheets in my arms. “I have a maid for that.”

His sexy half grin almost makes me forget my all-consuming embarrassment. Almost.

My mind spins, trying to come up with a plausible reason why I’d be doing Jonah’s laundry. His gorgeous body, uncovered from the waist up, does nothing for my concentration. I run my hungry eyes over every muscular curve.

I blink in a flutter, clearing the optical orgasm. Concentrate, Raven. “I, uh, thought I’d help out. Um, do my share since I’ve been living here?” My excuse comes out a question.

Jonah reads me with narrowed eyes. He knows I’m lying.

My eyes dart around the room unable to focus on his penetrating gaze. On a sigh, I drop my shoulders along with the sheets, defeated.

I can’t lie to Jonah. “This morning, when I woke up, I, uh . . .”

He lifts his eyebrows for me to continue.

“When I sat up, I guess gravity or something took over and I . . . um . . .” I drop my face, concentrating on the floor in front of me. “Bled . . . on your nice sheets.” I confess and rub my forehead to avoid eye contact. “I’m sorry. I’ll wash them, and if it doesn’t come out, I’ll buy you new ones.”

I don’t hear him move, but his bare feet move into my line of sight. Standing less than a foot away, he pulls me into his arms. They flex around me and he places a kiss on my head. I relax and snuggle into his hold.

“Let me take care of the sheets. You go get some coffee, and I’ll throw these in the wash.”

He leans back, searching for my eyes. I direct my stare past his shoulder. He cups my cheek, holding my face prisoner, demanding my attention.

“I love you, baby, but I don’t love you thinking that I care about some stupid sheets. I hope it does stain so that every time I sleep on ’em I’ll be reminded of our first time, not that I’ll need the reminder. Last night is burned into my brain, permanently.”

He did not just say that. My cheeks heat and my nose wrinkles. “Eww. That’s gross.”

“What? That last night is burned in my brain?”

I break eye contact to focus on his neck. “No, that you’d want to sleep on sheets stained with my blood.”

His fingers bring my chin up as he bends down. “Not gross to me, baby.” His voice is close and rough. “It’s sexy.” His breath caresses my lips and smells like coffee. My tongue darts out to see if I can taste it. His eyes focus on my mouth and I watch his eyelids drop.

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