Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors 2)

She locked her legs around his waist, locked him to her. Smooth parachute beneath her, Tanner above her. Bristly hair, hard muscles and callused skin rasped over her while silky nylon whispered under her.

Her body writhed against his, begged for release. She fought it off, not ready to lose this moment, unwilling to return to a world of thoughts, logic, reasonable worries that would steal more moments like this from her.

She scaled the rugged planes of his chest, her fingernails gripping, clinging. Like climbing a sheer cliff, she held on until she had no choice but to let go, to surrender control.

Tingling heat started low, pulsed, spread, burned over her. She set her teeth. Fought it back again.

Tanner's breath flowed hot against her ear. "Come on, honey, let it go. I'll catch you, then take you there all over again."

His words tore through her restraint, shredding it until she became like a parachute ripping open, sending her, screaming, catapulting down. And catch her he did. Right before he lunged into her again and, as promised, sent her right back on a second flight into a total loss of control.

She wasn't flying solo. With a hoarse groan of completion, Tanner collapsed on top her, a welcome weight grounding her as aftershocks trembled through her.

Burying her face in Tanner's neck, Kathleen tasted the warm sweat along his shoulder and wanted to stay wrapped inside their parachute forever, where she wouldn't have to face how much her complete loss of control scared her. Tanner deserved so much better than what she had to offer. Yet she knew too well those silken walls couldn't protect her from a risk nearly as frightening as any they'd faced that day.

The risk of letting herself love Tanner.

Tanner held Kathleen against him and breathed in her scent. Mint and Kathleen permeated their parachute haven, surrounded him in silk and Kathleen, just as she'd enclosed him, holding his body in hers seconds before.

The parachute slithered away as Kathleen slipped from beneath him. Tanner flipped to his back while she gathered her clothes, a shadowy, slim outline in the night as she dressed. Silently.

Of course, he couldn't put together more than a couple of words himself at the moment so he pulled on his clothes as well. Stuffing his legs into his pants, he ignored the throb in his head that had nothing to do with a gunshot wound.

Frustration churned through him, anyway, an increasingly familiar sensation around Kathleen.

There was nothing to do now but wait. A rescue plane or chopper would arrive soon. Upon landing back in the States, he and Kathleen would undoubtedly be separated for debriefing on the incident. He didn't expect there to be any legal fallout. They'd followed procedure down the line, resisted when possible, but the whole process could stretch into days. They would be lucky to make Cutter's wedding.

"Kathleen?" Tanner sat, his back against a tree. He held out his arms and waited.

Slowly she lowered herself, her back against his chest. He accepted her need for silence. He'd learned that much about her. She needed her space. But he needed to hold her, listen to her heartbeat and remind himself she was alive.

This would be his last chance for days. He refused to think this might be his final opportunity to hold her at all now that their last tie had been cut.

They'd worked together, brought down a crook who'd evaded detection for years, and made the C-17 community safer for their friends. Damn it, they had reason to celebrate.

So why could he feel her pulling away even as she sat in his arms? Just as she'd done after they'd made love in the cockpit.

And, damn it, they had made love. It wasn't just sex. He wanted ties, strong and lasting ones.

With Kathleen.

How could a woman so competent in the work world be so damned wary when it came to relationships?

How much did he really know about her? Kathleen wasn't a woman of many words. She might run that smart, gorgeous mouth of hers plenty around him, but rarely about herself, something he'd never realized before.

Fragments of conversations, pieces of herself she'd unwittingly shared shuffled around inside his mind. Words about her "too perfect," "wonder women sisters." An ex-husband who didn't respect her job any more than he'd respected her, a man who'd been a disloyal scum.

When had she ever found acceptance?

Once again he'd missed the big picture. This woman needed more from him than he'd thought. That proud tilt of her chin hid a pack of very human insecurities.

He'd been so focused on her not needing his protection, he hadn't realized Kathleen needed something far tougher for him to provide. She needed reassurance.

How was he supposed to fix that for her? Talk about Mars and Venus, men and women—he didn't have a clue how to tackle this one for her. If he blew it, the pain would be just as real as if she'd taken a bullet.

They'd made it through a day he hadn't expected to see end. He would have given his life for her, battled anything to keep her safe. This time there weren't any tangible enemies to conquer, walls to knock down.

Other than the ones she'd built around herself.