Free Fly With Me by Chanel Cleeton Page B

but for her heels and a sheer black thong that highlighted more than it concealed.
    I went a little light-headed, the pain in my chest intensifying.
    She sat back down on the edge of the sofa, her legs spread, no shyness between us. Motherfucking jackpot. Her confidence was hot on a whole other level. I liked that she didn’t insist on the lights off, that she didn’t shy away from me looking at her, committing every inch of her body to memory. I had big plans to lick and suck her later, after I’d had her once or twice, to cover her skin with marks from my lips and teeth, to have her moaning as I drove her crazy with need.
    The pieces of her body that I’d gotten earlier had been pretty amazing, but the whole picture was something else entirely.
    She had the most perfect tits I’d ever seen in my entire life, hands down, no contest. They were the ultimate handful—hell, more than a handful—her nipples a pretty shade of pink I couldn’t wait to get my mouth on. I cupped her breasts, my thumbs rubbing against her flesh, hardening the points until I couldn’t take it anymore and I leaned forward, capturing her nipple between my lips.
    Yes.
    She tasted sweet. Melt-in-your-mouth sweet. Addictive. No way was one night going to be enough with this girl.
    I tongued her nipple, my teeth grazing her flesh, tugging, my cock hardening as her body responded to my touch, with the soft sighs that escaped her lips. I moved to her other breast, my fingers replacing my lips.
    When this had started, my primary concern had been to feel good. To make her feel good. We’d passed by good a long time ago and the mission had changed.
    I was a good pilot, hell, a great pilot, because I was relentless, my focus single-minded when it needed to be. When I had a contact on my scope, I didn’t let go until that fucker was dead. One night wasn’t enough with this girl, and good wasn’t what I wanted anymore. I wanted to see her again, beyond Vegas, beyond this night. Getting shot down wasn’t an option.
    I reached up, pulling her thong off until she was naked before me.
    She was fucking gorgeous.
    I stood, my hands hooking under her hips, carrying her with me, wrapping her legs around my waist. My mouth went back on hers, my tongue thrusting inside and out, mimicking the motion my cock was desperate to make. We hit the bedroom, her hands scraping over my skin, her core rubbing against me, slippery and wet, throbbing around me.
    I set her down on the bed and released her, reaching over and scrounging through my bag for a condom, my heart pounding. My fingers closed over the little foil packet, a silent shout of triumph rushing through me, and then I was ripping it open, my hands shaking as I slid the condom onto my cock.
    Jordan lay on the bed, her gaze on me the entire time.
    I opened my mouth to speak again, to say something,
anything
, but nothing came. Instead I found myself striding toward the mattress, and then I was between her legs, the head of my cock teasing her entrance, cursing the latex barrier between us, and then with one smooth stroke, I slid inside her, pressure building at the base of my spine.
    So fucking good.
    Jordan sighed as I filled her, her body clenching down around my cock. For a moment I stayed still, seated to the hilt, the feeling too good for movement, for anything.
    Her hands trailed down my back, heating a path down my skin, and then I couldn’t
not
move, and my hips began pumping in a familiar rhythm that was as natural as breathing, instinct taking over when my brain failed to work.
    My mind went blank, my entire world reduced to the in-and-out, thrust-and-release of my body inside hers, of the shudders that traveled through her to my cock. Sweat pooled on my brow, my body straining as I rode her, as I reached for a release I couldn’t yet grasp. Not until she came.
    And then it built inside her, coming on strong, and Jordan shattered beneath me, her head