Free Never Choose Flight (A Fighter Romance Novel) by Danielle Forte

exclusively unexciting things.”
    “Well I guess a knife fight in the parking lot was a welcomed change, in that case.”
    “Yeah, actually. I might be okay with not doing anything exciting for the rest of the night.”
    He looked at me. “Well we have to find some way to pass the time.”
    I looked at him. “Your place or mine?”
    “Mine,” he said. “You drive.”
    We hopped into my car and took off down the road. I drove fast. Faster than normal. I couldn’t believe he’d just fought one of my coworkers. I wondered what would happen. What Derek would be like the next day. If I’d have to speak to management about it.
    But my mind got distracted pretty quickly when his hand landed on my thigh. He looked up and me and I tried my best to stay focused on the road. Until we got back to his place, of course.

Chapter 7
    We burst into his place like two teenagers into a house where the parents were on vacation. I unbuttoned his shirt while my lips pressed against his, and we stumbled back and fell down onto the couch, me on top.
    My swollen lips mashed against his as I undid the final button, and then my small hands slid around either side of him, holding him in a tight embrace. His tongue found mine, and they played, sliding from mouth to mouth as our bodies began to grind. We were still dressed, apart from his unbuttoned shirt, but we just could not hold back.
    I sat with one leg on either side, and my hands played with his body. It really was impressively muscular. Not a single bit of flab. Pretty much the opposite of mine.
    But his hands played with me as well. He grabbed onto the bottom of my shirt, and pulled it up over my breasts. Fondling each other like there was nothing else in the world ever worth doing. Kissing each other like we’d drown if we ever stopped. Humping. Thrusting. Gyrating like we weren’t wearing pants.
    I could feel it growing. I pressed down on it between my legs, applying pressure as I moved back and forth, back and forth, never letting the seal our mouths had created breaking. Every movement grew it more. Got him harder. Made me wetter.
    He was pressing hard against the inside of his jeans. But I didn’t want to move on yet. I wanted to make him wait. I knew what he wanted. He wanted what most men want from their girlfriends. But I also knew that I was on top. And he wasn’t going to get it until I decided the time was right.
    And for now I just wanted to continue kissing. We hadn’t kissed at all our first night together. And now I never wanted us to stop. It was like a game. My lips felt smooth against his. His tongue felt adventurous, and I couldn’t help but remember where it had been before. How it had made me feel. What he’d done to me afterwards.
    I was just getting wetter. I couldn’t believe he was kissing me. Dating me . All these years thinking I was unattractive. Worrying about my weight. And now I’d landed the man of my dreams, to kiss all I wanted. It wasn’t a weight problem afterall.
    And then I decided to stop. I sat up straight on him, with his manhood between my legs, pressed against my warmest parts. And I looked down at him. And he looked up at me.
    I sat there. It would seem like I wasn’t doing anything, but I was doing quite a lot. I was teasing. I wanted him to ask for it. Maybe not directly - but somehow. I sat there perched on top of him and looked down, smiling.
    “So…” he finally said, “do you want to…”
    I slid off his lap onto the floor in front of him.
    “What are you-”
    I pressed a finger to his lips, and then slid my hands lower. Undid his belt, and then his pants. I slid them down around his ankles, and then looked at him for a moment.
    He was big. I’d felt it before, but now I was seeing it. In the dim light from the kitchen, I stared at it. And I loved how it looked. Every part of him looked exactly how I’d hoped.
    Slowly - so slowly I was practically still teasing - I began to move my hand towards him. And then I touched