Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors 2)

Arms tucked in tight, Tanner thundered down the belly of the plane toward the open ramp. What the hell. Control had become a thing of the past around Kathleen, anyway.

He flung himself out of the plane into the blanket of stars.

Kathleen whipped her parachute free and stared up into the murky sky, not that she expected to find the big lug, anyway. Damn him. Why hadn't she made him jump first?

Because she knew he wouldn't have.

She strained to see, although not much was visible, with cloud cover muting the moon and stars. She'd landed right back in the desert again, twice in less than forty-eight hours. Except, this time she was alone.

Fear poured over her with each gust of sand-laden wind. Not fear for herself. She could take care of herself until a rescue plane tracked the beacon on her chute.

But she was scared spitless for Tanner. She'd seen the gleam in his eyes, the need for revenge powered by an overwhelming sense that he could make it happen through his will alone.

Ego. That invincibility he'd needed to carry him through combat could be the very thing that brought him down.

Then she heard it. A reverberating thud and grunt about fifty yards away.

Tanner.

Was it her imagination, or had the ground shuddered under her feet when he hit the desert floor? Or maybe it was sheer, earth-shattering relief rocking her from her toes to her teeth.

Kicking free of the pool of parachute nylon, she stumbled toward the sound.

"Tanner? Tanner!" she shouted, running toward him. Medical training marched gory scenarios of shattered bones through her mind. Parachuting was dangerous, especially in the dark. And he'd already been injured protecting her. "Tanner! Answer me, or I'm going to ground your butt until the next millennium!"

A blur took shape in front of her. A big, broad-shouldered shape. Tanner bent over with his hands on his knees, his parachute lying in a pile behind him.

"Hang … on … Athena." He straightened, slowly, wonderfully tall and whole. "Just trying … to catch my … breath."

She sagged with relief. It had to be relief. She was too close to tears to consider it could be anything else without totally losing control.

The final ten yards between them closed in seconds. She slammed against him. He was alive. They both were. In a day that could have ended so differently, they'd made it, worked together, flushed out Quinn and lived to tell about it.

And Tanner had followed her to the ground.

She stroked her fingers over his gunshot wound with expert hands. After finding reassurance, she let her hands rove into his hair, this time with impatient, lover hands. "Kiss me, damn it. Now," Kathleen demanded, even as his face was lowering to hers.

"Already on my way."

Her hands scoured over him, detailing every healthy inch with a need she didn't even try to delude herself into thinking was for medical reassurance.

He hadn't stayed with the plane and thrown his big reckless body into the line of fire. She couldn't think beyond celebrating that. Apparently, neither could he. Tanner's mouth feasted on hers, his embrace strong, solid and so damned exciting.

Like the man.

Kathleen tugged at his clothes, her hands frantic, powered by that relief and something else. She tore his shirt over his head, bemoaning the scarce second when her lips had to slide from his.

Clothes yanked off and flung free fluttered to the desert floor around them until wind whipped over her bare skin. Wild, invigorating gusts of gritty wind scraped at her body, reminding her they were both alive.

In a tangle of arms and legs, they fell backward onto the parachute, Tanner's body cushioning her fall.

God, how far she could fall if she let herself. And she did, for just a moment, giving herself up totally to sensation as she'd never done before. She kissed him while he kissed her back so thoroughly she couldn't have seen even if her eyes had been open.

From somewhere he pulled out a condom. From his wallet maybe? She didn't care. Why waste a second more even thinking about anything other than him?

Grabbing the edge of the parachute, she rolled, pulled Tanner on top of her, draped the silken folds around them until even the hazy moonlight faded away.

Nothing but silk, Tanner and the glide of his body sliding into hers, filling, stretching her until her thoughts scattered like sand in the breeze.