Fighting for Flight (35 page)

With my hair pulled back, I plug the iPod into the
dock and allow the music to wash through my body, taking with it
the multitude of conflicted emotions tumbling in my chest.

Some of the music from Jonah’s iPod is familiar, but
one song catches my attention. I read the name on the screen as
“Halo” by Beyonce. It seems Beyonce knows a thing or two about my
situation, as her words become my heart’s anthem. I put the song on
repeat and turn back to the car to bury myself in work.

Lost in the combination of my work and the music, I
jump at the sound of the door opening. How long have I been in
here?

“I knew I’d find you here.” He wraps me in a hug.
His body is warm and comforting.

“I wanted to give you and your mom some time alone.
I thought I’d come out here until she went to bed.”

He sits on the hood of the Impala, propping his
heels on the bumper and pulling me between his legs.

“My mom is in love with you.” He tucks a loose
strand of hair behind my ear. “She flat out told me that if I
didn’t marry you she’d disown me. I think she likes you more than
she likes me.”

My cheeks warm. “She’s incredible, Jonah.”

“I’m glad you think so. You know, I was kinda hoping
that someday she’d be your mother-in-law.”

My eyes flash to his and a slow smile pulls at my
lips.
Holy crud.
Is he asking what I think he’s asking?

“Whaddya say? You feel like droppin’ Morretti for
good?”

Jonah

I’m not breathing. I’m waiting.

She’s staring at me like I sprouted horns . . . and
a tail.

I just asked her to marry me. Sure it wasn’t your
candlelight dinner, down on one knee, shed a tear kind of proposal.
But it was a proposal. I don’t know what came over me. It just came
out. I don’t regret the words, but fuck. What kind of a dick asks
his girlfriend to marry him in his garage? I don’t even have a
ring.

I’ve known for a while now that I wanted to spend
the rest of my life with her. I just haven’t been able to focus on
that. It’s been more important that I focus on our immediate future
and the fight.

But now, nothing’s as important as her answer. Why
isn’t she saying anything?

I reach out and cup her face, running my thumb along
her lower lip. “Baby?”

Her eyebrows pinch together.
Not a good
sign.

With a few rapid blinks, she focuses on me. “What if
you win tomorrow night?”

Ah, fuck. Not this again.

No matter how many times I assure her that I can
throw this fight, she’s never totally convinced.

“I told you I’d lose it. I mean it. Now leave it
alone.” My words are terse and powered by irritation. I don’t mean
to be rude, but
fuck
. I just proposed, and this is the shit
she wants to talk about?

I push both hands through my hair and take a deep
breath. Her soft hand brushes my cheek. I look at her, my jaw
cramping and eyes narrowing. She jumps, but quickly recovers, and
places a lingering kiss on my cheek.

“I believe you can lose the fight, I do. But what if
I say I’ll marry you and then something happens? Something
terrible, like you get hit too hard and flip the switch on Del
Toro? Or what if, I don’t know, he does something to forfeit the
fight? You want to marry a prostitute? You want to share your wife
with the wealthy men of Las Vegas?”

I grimace at the thought. No, I won’t share my wife
with other men. I’d fucking kill any man who came near her with
those intentions.

Her expression goes soft and she nods. “That’s what
I thought. So what are our options? We could run, take off, live
out our married days moving from place to place . . . ’til death do
us part.”

She brings both hands up to cup my face. “You
deserve better than that, Jonah. Your mom deserves better than
that.”

“I don’t want to live without you.” Emotions surge
within me making my voice rough.

A single tear trails down her cheek, betraying her
smile. “And I don’t want to live without you. Of course, I want to
spend the rest of my life with you.” Her expression hardens. “But I
don’t want to talk about the future. Not until we know, with
one-hundred-percent certainty, that we have one.”

So that’s a yes. Right? A maybe? Shit.

“Nothing will keep me from you. I know what’s going
to happen tomorrow night. But if things don’t go as planned, I’ll
take you away. Living a life on the run is better than living a
life without you.” I wrap my hand around the nape of her neck and
pull her face close to mine. “
No one
can keep us apart.”

“I love you, Jonah." Her hands run down my
shoulders, and chest, settling on my abdomen.

My blood roars from the heat of her touch. I need
her to understand that her life means more than my own. I’d give it
all away: every dream, every accomplishment. Everything for
her.

With a gentle tug, I tilt her head and hold her lips
mere centimeters from mine. She closes her eyes and leans in for a
kiss. I fist her hair tighter, holding her in place. A moan
vibrates deep in her throat. We swallow each other’s breath from
our parted lips. Electricity buzzes between us. My teeth scrape
against my lower lip with the urge to take her mouth. Her eyes
dilate and her breath quickens.

She shifts and steps closer. The side of my mouth
curls into a half smile. My girl. Always so anxious and ready.

She licks her full lips. Our mouths are so close I
can almost taste the moisture her tongue left behind.

“Jonah—”

“Baby, you look so sexy right now.”

She closes her eyes at my whispered words. I hold on
tighter.

“Holding you like this, putting you close to what
you want. It’s hot, baby. You shift and rub your thighs together
like you’re trying to put out a fire.”

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth.

“You press into me, like you’re hoping our bodies
will melt together.”

A whimper escapes her lips.

“Mmm. Love that sound.” I flex my hips into her
stomach.

Her eyes shoot open and plead with me to end to her
suffering. Pissed or begging, smiling or crying, my girl is damn
sexy.

My girl.

Dominick’s words echo in my head.
I take care of
what’s mine.
His? The fuck she is. I don’t care what I have to
do tomorrow night to make it happen, but I will walk out of that
arena with Raven under my arm and our entire future ahead of
us.

I lean forward and brush my lips softly against her
forehead. Her eyes flutter closed. I brush my lips against each of
her eyelids, taking my time to savor the soft pear scent of her
hair. Finally, my lips hover over hers.

“You’re mine, baby. Always.”

“Promise me.” Our mouths are so close, her lips
brush against mine with her words.

My chest cramps at the desperation in her voice. “I
promise.”

And that’s all I can take.

I cover her lips with mine, and she immediately
opens to me. Our tongues glide together in gentle strokes. I grab
her hair, tilt her head, and delve in deeper. Soft, wet, and
delicious. A groan pushes up from my chest and she takes it with an
answering moan.

My ass planted on the hood of the Impala, I use my
leverage to pull her tight between my legs. Her hands slide under
the legs of my shorts and up my thighs. She pushes her soft fingers
under the hem of my boxers and my hips roll into her touch. I let
go of her hair with one hand and snake my arm behind her back.

“I love you.” A storm of emotion and hunger swirl in
my chest, making my declaration come out on a growl.

“I love you.”

She pushes her hands the extra few inches to my
throbbing hard-on. The muscles in my stomach contract as her touch
sends waves of pleasure up my spine. With both hands, she grabs
hold and strokes. I’m light headed. Her grip tightens as I rub and
tease her breasts over her shirt. I want to go soft. Be gentle. But
my hands claw at her clothes, itching to get to her skin.

Closer.

I break the kiss, grab the hem of her gray tank top,
and pull it over her head. My eyes go wide at her bright red, lace
bra.
Fuckin’ hell.

I slide off the hood of the car, mesmerized by her
breasts as they strain against their lace cage. My hands cup her
and squeeze gently. Her head falls back on a moan. I run my thumbs
across her nipples watching how they react beneath the fabric.

My hands travel down her tight, flat stomach to the
waistband on her shorts. With a swift tug, I pop the button and
open to what I know is matching lace panties.

Raven shifts her hips and slides her short shorts
down her long, tan legs. My head tilts as I take in her body from
head to toe. Each sliver of soft skin, every curve of decadent
flesh, all perfect and mine in every way. My eyes linger on the
parts of her body I want to get to first, covered in red lace. I
lick my lips.

“Your turn.” She motions to my shirt with a tilt of
her head.

I want her hands on me. “Uh-uh. You do it.”

Her eyelids are heavy over blue-green pools of
liquid heat. She slips her hands beneath my shirt, eyes locked on
mine. Her fingernails drag against my skin as she runs her hands up
to my chest. I suck air through clenched teeth as the bite of her
nails sends pleasure straight down. I raise my arms and bend for
her to pull my shirt off over my head.

The weight of her stare on my naked torso shoots
heat through my veins. She runs her hand along my arm to my
shoulder while her other hand glides down to the button of my
shorts. She stops there and slips her fingers inside the waistband
of my boxer briefs, brushing against the tip of my dick. My head
falls back on a groan. I’m going to explode if I don’t get inside
her soon. I reach down to undo my pants.

Her hand covers mine and she pushes up on her
tiptoes, placing her lips against my neck. “No, I got it.”

Soft, wet lips part at my neck as she licks and nips
while unbuttoning my shorts. They fall to the ground and I kick
them off. I press her back against the Impala, placing her sexy,
lace-clad ass on the hood. She lifts an eyebrow in question, but
her crooked smile tells me she knows exactly what’s about to
happen.

She leans back, resting her weight against her
elbows. I pin her with my eyes, plant my knee between her legs, and
climb up.

~*~

Raven

His body covers mine, pushing me back. My stomach
jumps at the thought of our naked bodies tangled together
surrounded by the smell of oil and rubber. This scenario has run
through my head a few times since I started working with Jonah. I
rest my heels on the bumper as Jonah covers my face, neck, and
shoulders with hot, wet kisses.

A fantasy come to life.

Just like his spontaneous proposal. Not at some
romantic beach locale or in some crowded restaurant. But here, in
my sanctuary. No cheesy sonnets read down on one knee or even a
ring. I don’t need that. Any of it. All I need is him.

Sucking and nibbling, he makes his way down to my
breast. He continues lapping at my skin before pulling my flesh
into his mouth over my bra. The combination of his warm tongue and
the friction from the lace make my back arch, pushing me further
into his touch.

No one has ever claimed me like he has—stood his
ground, willing to fight, just so he could have me. Our future
depends on that fight. I may lose my future. I won’t take his down
with me.

His attention shifts from my breasts, and he kisses
down my body. My knees fall apart. He settles himself between my
legs, teasing my inner thigh with his tongue. I don’t know what’s
going to happen tomorrow night, but for now, tonight, I am his and
he is mine.

Completely.

With one finger, he traces the seam of my panties
from my hip down. He slides the delicate fabric to the side and,
without hesitation, dives in. A groan rumbles in the back of my
throat. He slides both hands beneath my butt, pushing me deeper
into his mouth. I rock my hips against him, unable to stay
still.

My body ignites at his attention. With the slightest
touch he brings comfort and, with a little more, intense ecstasy.
But this time there’s an extra layer of emotion. Belonging.

A powerful urge to bond rockets through my veins.
Power, need, passion all mix into a potent cocktail and I’m
overcome with desire to take him. I use my foot to push his
shoulder back. He looks up at me, eyebrows pinched, hands up in
surrender. Something that looks like concern etched in his
face.

I want to give him a reassuring smile. Let him know
that everything’s okay, but animalistic yearning wins out.

With a quick flip of my thumb, I unhook my bra,
sliding the straps down my arms and tossing it across the room. I
lie back and lift my hips to rid myself of my panties. His eyes go
dark, forehead dropped so he’s looking at me from beneath his thick
eyelashes.

If I don’t move fast, he’s going to pounce.

Hopping from the hood, I reach for the waistband of
his boxers. He watches as I slide the cotton down his sculpted
thighs to his ankles, where he kicks them to the side. In a crouch
on the floor, I take advantage of my position and take him deep
into my mouth.

“Aww, damn.” He groans and rakes both hands into my
hair.

I look up from my position on the ground and watch
the ripples of his muscles contract with every thrust of my mouth.
Here on my knees, in a position of submission, I’ve never felt more
powerful. His body responds to every flick of my tongue, every pull
of my mouth. My heart swells with the love I see in his face as he
looks down at me.

“Baby, enough.” He hauls me to my feet.

My hands on his chest, I press him back to sit on
the hood of the car. He’s stronger than I am and capable of
protesting, but he allows my control. And if I’m not mistaken, I
think it’s turning him on.