Turbulent Intentions (Billionaire Aviators 1)

Shaking his head, he scowled though she couldn’t see him. There was a reason he didn’t invite them back to his house—he didn’t want them after him for his ass . . . ets.

Then it hit him.

Uncle Sherman! His eyes narrowed as he realized what the old coot was up to.

First of all, a so-called family friend needed a place to stay. Then conveniently right before she was to move into the guest cottage, the pipes had burst, causing him a hell of a headache, not to mention the cost of repairs, and the family friend now got to stay inside his house.

He and his uncle were going to have a talk real soon.

“I assume you know Sherman Armstrong,” Cooper said as he stepped through his doorway and alerted Stormy of his presence.

She jumped as she spun around, the move nearly toppling her over. Dammit! She was far too close to his bed for her to be getting horizontal. His brain had already begun to picture her lying on top of his dark blue comforter.

“Cooper . . .” His name came out breathlessly, and he really had the urge now to lie her down and hear her saying that in the exact same manner as he slid in and out of her body.

“That’s what my friends call me,” he said with a crooked grin as he leaned back against his wall. “If you really wanted in my bedroom so badly, all you had to do was ask,” he added with a wink he knew would infuriate her.

Stormy’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she moved away from the bed and farther from him.

“This is your house.” She said the words almost as an accusation. Sherman hadn’t told her any more about where she was staying than he’d told Cooper who would be staying with him. Family friend, my ass, Cooper thought.

“Yep, it is.”

“I . . . uh, didn’t know . . . when Sherman said his nephew had a place, I never thought . . .”

She seemed to be getting her equilibrium back as they faced off. Interesting. He actually believed she hadn’t known it was his place. What was also interesting was the fact that he wasn’t upset about having a guest anymore.

His pride wasn’t unaffected when he saw the appreciative light in her eyes as she took in his appearance. He’d had a great run today. Yes, he knew his dark hair needed a good brushing, and he was covered in sweat, but she didn’t appear to mind.

The more she looked at him, the tighter his snug shorts felt, and he was very aware that there was a bed nearby to alleviate the pain he was feeling. He glanced at his bed, and then back again at her—and he smiled.

Stormy’s eyes widened the slightest bit as she looked into his and then looked down, before jerking her head back up and looking more like a mouse cornered by a very hungry cat.

“I’m . . . uh . . . sorry for coming into your room. I was just looking around, trying to get a feel for the layout,” she finally muttered. “I really like your chest . . . I mean, uh your house, especially your room,” she said before turning scarlet. “I mean that it’s very hard . . . I . . . uh . . . I mean comfortable.”

She finally lifted her hand and put it over her mouth to stop the flow of words.

Hot damn, he wanted this woman with something that bordered on obsession. Not good! Her sweet scent drifted over to him, bringing an exotic flavor that had never been in his masculine room before.

His mind wandered as he imagined moving across the room and pulling her into his arms, a gasp of approval sliding across her lips right before he claimed her mouth. He would slowly peel her summer dress away, revealing her shoulders and then her sweet perky breasts for him to feast upon. He wouldn’t mind nibbling his way down her body, trailing his fingers until he found her center.

His hardness was now a screaming mass of pain that he seriously had to do something about. Moving quickly over to his bathroom, he grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his brow before moving it over his naked chest and then holding it in front of him. This woman got under his skin like no woman ever had. Something about her called to him, and even though his mind couldn’t for the life of him clear the foggy feeling that he’d met her before, his body decided it didn’t care either way.

“My room is open to you anytime,” he heard himself say.

And then he enjoyed the gasp from her suddenly puckered lips, but he didn’t get to feel her warm breath against his mouth. Dammit!

“I think I should finish unpacking,” she stuttered. “I won’t be here very long,” she added as she took a step toward his bedroom door.

She seemed to think twice about it, though, when she realized she was going to be left with no choice but to come intimately close to him. He decided not to move. He wanted her nearer to him.

“Be my guest,” he offered when she stood there for a few more seconds, completely frozen in place.

“Well, okay then,” she said and she began to make a wide arc past him. He inhaled while she walked past.

She made it to the door before he spoke again. “We’ll talk after I shower, Stormy.”

She stopped in his doorway but didn’t turn around. She was feeling the sexual tension as much as he was. Cooper really wasn’t disappointed about his new housemate.

Screw the shower. He needed to move! After dressing in some swim shorts, he made his way outside.

It took a while, but his arousal finally died down. Still, there was something niggling against his brain—something about her smell—about the gasp from her lips and the widening of her eyes that was so damn familiar.

But how could he ever forget a woman like Stormy if he’d met her before? ng his head, he scowled though she couldn’t see him. There was a reason he didn’t invite them back to his house—he didn’t want them after him for his ass . . . ets.

Then it hit him.

Uncle Sherman! His eyes narrowed as he realized what the old coot was up to.

First of all, a so-called family friend needed a place to stay. Then conveniently right before she was to move into the guest cottage, the pipes had burst, causing him a hell of a headache, not to mention the cost of repairs, and the family friend now got to stay inside his house.

He and his uncle were going to have a talk real soon.

“I assume you know Sherman Armstrong,” Cooper said as he stepped through his doorway and alerted Stormy of his presence.

She jumped as she spun around, the move nearly toppling her over. Dammit! She was far too close to his bed for her to be getting horizontal. His brain had already begun to picture her lying on top of his dark blue comforter.

“Cooper . . .” His name came out breathlessly, and he really had the urge now to lie her down and hear her saying that in the exact same manner as he slid in and out of her body.

“That’s what my friends call me,” he said with a crooked grin as he leaned back against his wall. “If you really wanted in my bedroom so badly, all you had to do was ask,” he added with a wink he knew would infuriate her.

Stormy’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she moved away from the bed and farther from him.

“This is your house.” She said the words almost as an accusation. Sherman hadn’t told her any more about where she was staying than he’d told Cooper who would be staying with him. Family friend, my ass, Cooper thought.

“Yep, it is.”

“I . . . uh, didn’t know . . . when Sherman said his nephew had a place, I never thought . . .”

She seemed to be getting her equilibrium back as they faced off. Interesting. He actually believed she hadn’t known it was his place. What was also interesting was the fact that he wasn’t upset about having a guest anymore.

His pride wasn’t unaffected when he saw the appreciative light in her eyes as she took in his appearance. He’d had a great run today. Yes, he knew his dark hair needed a good brushing, and he was covered in sweat, but she didn’t appear to mind.

The more she looked at him, the tighter his snug shorts felt, and he was very aware that there was a bed nearby to alleviate the pain he was feeling. He glanced at his bed, and then back again at her—and he smiled.

Stormy’s eyes widened the slightest bit as she looked into his and then looked down, before jerking her head back up and looking more like a mouse cornered by a very hungry cat.

“I’m . . . uh . . . sorry for coming into your room. I was just looking around, trying to get a feel for the layout,” she finally muttered. “I really like your chest . . . I mean, uh your house, especially your room,” she said before turning scarlet. “I mean that it’s very hard . . . I . . . uh . . . I mean comfortable.”

She finally lifted her hand and put it over her mouth to stop the flow of words.

Hot damn, he wanted this woman with something that bordered on obsession. Not good! Her sweet scent drifted over to him, bringing an exotic flavor that had never been in his masculine room before.

His mind wandered as he imagined moving across the room and pulling her into his arms, a gasp of approval sliding across her lips right before he claimed her mouth. He would slowly peel her summer dress away, revealing her shoulders and then her sweet perky breasts for him to feast upon. He wouldn’t mind nibbling his way down her body, trailing his fingers until he found her center.

His hardness was now a screaming mass of pain that he seriously had to do something about. Moving quickly over to his bathroom, he grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his brow before moving it over his naked chest and then holding it in front of him. This woman got under his skin like no woman ever had. Something about her called to him, and even though his mind couldn’t for the life of him clear the foggy feeling that he’d met her before, his body decided it didn’t care either way.

“My room is open to you anytime,” he heard himself say.

And then he enjoyed the gasp from her suddenly puckered lips, but he didn’t get to feel her warm breath against his mouth. Dammit!

“I think I should finish unpacking,” she stuttered. “I won’t be here very long,” she added as she took a step toward his bedroom door.

She seemed to think twice about it, though, when she realized she was going to be left with no choice but to come intimately close to him. He decided not to move. He wanted her nearer to him.

“Be my guest,” he offered when she stood there for a few more seconds, completely frozen in place.

“Well, okay then,” she said and she began to make a wide arc past him. He inhaled while she walked past.

She made it to the door before he spoke again. “We’ll talk after I shower, Stormy.”

She stopped in his doorway but didn’t turn around. She was feeling the sexual tension as much as he was. Cooper really wasn’t disappointed about his new housemate.

Screw the shower. He needed to move! After dressing in some swim shorts, he made his way outside.

It took a while, but his arousal finally died down. Still, there was something niggling against his brain—something about her smell—about the gasp from her lips and the widening of her eyes that was so damn familiar.

But how could he ever forget a woman like Stormy if he’d met her before?