Inside Bet: Vegas Top Guns, Book 2 (34 page)

She pulled their foreheads together until skin pinched against skin. A soft pain, uniting them. “You too. I can’t read your mind. Play how you want with the world. I know I do it too. But not here. Not with us.” Boldly she wound her hands around his back, clenching tight. She nuzzled the bare skin at the open notch of his collar. “I’m so sorry. I love you, but I only made you hurt.”

He froze. “You…?”

She nodded. A love he’d never expected to find shone clearly from her luminous eyes.

Exhaling, he pulled her more tightly into his embrace. His heart thumped. The glimmering tracks of her tears were drying on her cheeks. He kissed them away. She tasted like salt and all his best dreams. “I think I’ve been waiting for that. Needed to hear it from you first. Because I love you too.”

She looked younger and happier than he’d ever seen. “That’s… I don’t even know what to say. Amazing. Can we be amazing?”

He grinned and kissed her lips. Half play. Half hard-earned emotion. “We already are.”

“So, will you show me around your place? It’s way past time I saw it.”

The cinched feeling in his chest had loosened. This was where it would start. A real beginning.

“Well,” he drawled. “The kitchen’s a wreck.”

“Living room?”

“You’re looking at it.”

“Do you have a den?”

His grin took on a devious feel. “Too far away.”

“What does that leave? The bedroom?”

“Indeed. Right this way, Heather love.” He hooked an arm around her shoulder as he led her down the hallway. “So…we were redoing your high school years, were we?”

Her cheeks went pink. “Yes.”

That had certain possibilities. “You know, there were certain high school events I missed out on too.”

“Surely not, Mr. Moneybags.”

He nodded, but he couldn’t keep his expression as solemn as he meant. He was too aw-shucks sappy happy. “For example, I never passed dirty notes in class.”

“Would texting count?”

“We can improvise.”

She twined her fingers with his. “What else?”

“I never passed the dutchie under the bleachers at a football game.”

“Well, that’s
definitely
out.”

“Wait, I’ve got it,” he said. “Heather love, how would you like me to tutor you in French?”

She giggled. Everything about her expression was bright and open, inviting him in. For good, this time. “That sounds lovely. But I’m not convinced. What is your teaching style?”

He couldn’t stop touching her. Only touching made it real. “Hands on, Ms. Morris. Definitely hands on.”

Epilogue

After completing her nighttime routine, Heather turned off the bathroom light and returned to Jon’s bedroom. The polished hardwood floors were cool against her feet. Early December not only brought relief from scorching temperatures but made for gorgeous evenings. A breeze scented with desert sage filtered in through the open bay window where Jon sat in a leather recliner.

He was the same man she’d met during the high heat of July—her early birthday present—but he was nearly as changed as she. Nearly. He wore one of his customary dress shirts, bright white, the sleeves rolled to the middle of his corded forearms. Jeans tonight. And bare feet pulled up on the leather cushion.

The bare feet always got to her. An intimacy he shared with no one else.

With his head back on the recliner, he stared out the window. A wistful half-smile shaped his lips. She knew what gorgeous depravity those lips were capable of, which made his peaceful, faraway expression all the more endearing.

“Jon?”

He didn’t shift anything but his gaze. A slinky sideways glance shivered anticipation down into her belly. “Hey.”

“Who called?”

His iPhone lay on the antique writing desk next to the recliner. He eyed it with an amusement she didn’t understand. “Come sit on my lap. It’s been a long day and I’ve missed your ass.”

“The ass you slapped last night?”

“Repeatedly? That’s the one.”

Heather smoothed a hand over the wrists he’d bound with a pair of suspenders the night before. Her body still hummed and shook.

He patted his knee, his smile gone from wistful to kinky in just a few heartbeats. She crossed the room with a sultry sway. Her nipples tightened under one of his plain white cotton T-shirts, in part because of the breeze, in part because of his heated appreciation.

She draped across the recliner and settled her backside against his groin. Strong arms circled her waist. He dipped his head between her breasts for a quick nuzzle.

“You’re trying to distract me,” she said. “It won’t work.”

“Give me a minute. I have more ideas.”

Heather found his face, her hands flat on his cheeks. “Who was on the phone?”

He took a deep breath, his expression sobering. “My mother.”

“Oh?”

“They asked if we would like to fly out for Christmas.”

Something about his tone of voice, so dazed, made him seem even younger. A strong protective impulse took her by surprise.

“Let me in there,” she said, rubbing her hands back along his buzzed head. “It goes both ways, remember?”

He exhaled again, then appeared to make a decision. “They’ve never… Fuck it, they’ve never
asked
before. It’s been an imperial summons for as long as I can remember.”

“You want to go.”

Turning those dark eyes on her, he grazed her cheek with a feathery touch. “Maybe. Yes. I do. But only if you come with me.”

“Jon, would this be us making plans?”

“I don’t see why not. The odds have been good to us so far.”

“Does that make you my inside bet?”

“Nah,
mon amour
, I’m your sure thing,” he said with a slight smile. Heather touched his lower lip, overwhelmed, until he chased away the intensity by tonguing her finger. “So what do you say? Fly with me to Planet Hyannis for the holidays?”

She should have felt a slice of panic. What would his parents think of her? But that panic didn’t come, only a determination to be strong for Jon as he accepted this tentative olive branch.

“I’d like that.”

“The thing is…” He inhaled, let it go slowly. “Six months ago, I might’ve ignored the call altogether. You’ve changed me, Heather love. You said I could be better.”

“And now look at you. Just bursting with potential.”

He laughed and tucked her against his chest. “Don’t I get enough trash-talk at work? I expect sugar from you.”

Heather giggled against his throat, kissed him there. “There. Some sugar. Now, about this trip. Do I get to see your bedroom from when you were a kid?”

“With my No Doubt and Claudia Schiffer posters?”

“Hey, they’re both blondes.”

“Then I grew up,” he said, brushing a lock of her hair. “Besides, Mother turned it into a respectable guestroom.”

Heather unfastened one, two, three buttons. She playfully raked her nails down his chest. “Is it soundproof?”

“Hell, no.” His soft laugh teased beneath her fingertips. “Are you going to be good?”

“For the sake of family harmony and new beginnings, I’ll be
quiet
. I can’t promise to be good.”

“You’ve had a good run of wall-bangers, you know. I don’t have much faith you can hold it in anymore.”

“That sounds like a dare, Captain.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” His fingers began to work their magic at the apex of her thighs. “Don’t you wonder? How slow we could make it? How quiet and tight?”

Liquid warmth flooded her pussy. She spread her knees, just slightly, to invite him inside. “Ah, right there,” she whispered.

“We should practice, you know.” Jon found the side of her neck and sucked—the lightest tease. “Otherwise my neighbors will start complaining. The Homeowner’s Association will kick me out.”

She giggled, no longer so embarrassed by the idea of other people knowing she had a passionate side. Jon had taught her the difference between running wild and having a wild time. Maybe come spring she’d buy a bikini to show off her tattoo. She had nothing more to hide.

“If they kick you out,” she said, “you’d just have to come live with me.”

Jon’s hand stilled. “What was that?”

The hairs on Heather’s arms stood up on a flush of gooseflesh. “You’d…” She swallowed. “You’d just have to come live with me.”

He cupped her neck and brought her mouth down for a sweet, smoldering kiss. The strange thing about beginning their sex life with a series of dares was that kissing remained almost…novel. They went deeper every time, feeling, learning one another in a way that melted Heather’s heart.

His tongue smoothed the seam of her lips, as if asking permission. She opened to him. Such a quiet burn. Such a honeyed tension. Her body was alive—wide awake and eager, and always so safe with him.

“That idea would be perfect if your place were as cool as mine,” he whispered against her mouth.

“I’m sure we can come to some compromise.”

He kissed her, just lip to lip. “
Je t’aime
, Heather love.
Je t’aime comme un fou.
”

Her heart squeezed tight, then burst into a fast, joyous rhythm. “And I love you. God, Jon.”

She threw her arms around him and held on, believing in him, in
them
, more than she ever imagined possible. With every beautiful thing he did, he helped push her fears away until only their love remained.

Laughing now, she attacked the zipper of his jeans.

Jon leaned back, arms splayed on the armrests. His bemused smile returned, complete with those maddening dimples. “What happened to slow and sweet?”

“Save it for Hyannis. I have something else in mind.” She stroked his cock, enjoying the thrill of finding him so ready.

Hissing in a quick breath, he claimed her unbound hair. “Oh, really? Do enlighten me, Ms. Morris.”

“We’re getting you kicked out of your condo. Let’s make some noise, flyboy.”

Author’s Note

The 64th Aggressor Squadron is an active United States Air Force unit assigned to the 57th Adversary Tactics Group, stationed at Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas, Nevada. The pilots’ objectives are as we’ve described: to fly as adversaries against allied pilots from around the world, teaching them to better counter enemy tactics. The unit dates back to WWII when it participated in multiple theaters of operation.

Now, the 64th and other “bandits” from the 57th ATG regularly conduct dogfighting simulations in the United States, known as Red Flags, and Maple Flag exercises in conjunction with Canadian Forces. They also add their expertise to the USAF’s Weapons School syllabus and travel the country to provide training and test mission support to various units.

All individuals described in this story are fictitious. Research mistakes are entirely our own.

In the meantime, we enjoy assuming that at least one of these dedicated, highly skilled bandits can speak fluent French.

About the Author

Katie Porter is the writing team of Carrie Lofty and Lorelie Brown, who’ve been friends and critique partners for more than five years. Both are multi-published in historical romance. Carrie has an MA in history, while Lorelie is a US Army veteran. Generally a high-strung masochist, Carrie loves running and weight training, but she has no fear of gross things like dissecting formaldehyde sharks. Her two girls are not appreciative. Lorelie, a laid-back sadist, would rather grin maniacally when Carrie works out. Her three boys love how she screams like a little girl around spiders.

To learn more about the authors who make up Katie, visit
www.katieporterbooks.com
or follow them on Twitter at
@carrielofty
and
@LorelieBrown
.

Look for these titles by Katie Porter

Now Available:

Vegas Top Guns

Double Down

Coming Soon:

Vegas Top Guns

Hold ’Em

Hard Way

Bare Knuckle

Club Devant

Lead and Follow

Chains and Canes

Pretty and Twisted

Came Upon a Midnight Clear

A man with handcuffs. A woman with a paddle. Both fly F-16s.

Hold ’Em

© 2012 Katie Porter

Vegas Top Guns, Book 3

Daughter of a world-famous motocross champion, and head-on competitor with three brothers, Captain Leah “Princess” Girardi was born with a need for speed. No one tells her what to do, especially not men with chauvinistic “girls can’t be fighter pilots” attitudes.

That’s what ended her brief relationship with Captain Mike “Strap Happy” Templeton. Now, six years later, he’s been assigned to her squadron, and whoa
damn
, he’s filled out nicely. Plus he’s cultivated a Zen-like chill factor that pulls at her hormones.

Even after four tours, Mike’s the new kid in the 64
^th
Aggressor Squadron. That’s not the only thing new. Since he last saw Leah, he’s learned a few things about himself. A female who outranks him still makes his teeth grind, but in the bedroom he craves the rush of pain inflicted by an adoring, powerful woman.

Their reunion is an explosive revelation. Leah is the beautiful mistress he’s been searching for, and she takes to her new role like a natural. But Leah’s aware one thing
hasn’t
changed. Loving him is still an all-or-nothing proposition. She’s not sure her reckless streak is wide enough to risk her career—and her heart.

Warning: This book contains a hot stud on his knees, a woman wielding a paddle, and filthy-gorgeous femdom sex. Also: dangerous rock climbing, two amazing motorcycles and some bad tequila.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Hold ’Em:

Leah caught his eye, sharing his mirth. She was just plain
fun
. Six years ago, her every waking breath had been plans and strategies and the hard edge of ambition. In truth, it had left him cold. Now he could almost forget what awaited them both come Tuesday morning. Him in a simulator. Her in charge.