Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors 2)

Her tongue tangling, twining with his, she scooted closer. Her hip nudged insistent pressure against him, hot friction that left his jeans uncomfortably tight.

Too much. Too soon.

Grasping her hips, he stilled her restless movements, only to find the feel of her beneath his hands stirred him all the more. How could one woman be so toned and soft all at the same time?

Just like Kathleen. Tough and curiously vulnerable.

His hand tucked under her shirt and found more of that velvety softness as he stroked the small of her back. Kathleen's breathy moan filled his mouth just as she filled his arms, warm, difficult to capture but so incredible when he did.

Suddenly the enclosed airplane became a torture chamber as he yearned to see more of her. Two of her buttons later, his mouth explored her fragile collarbone and discovered those freckles he'd wondered about. A light dusting, but every one begged to be tasted, followed until he reached the gentle curve of her breasts.

Air whispered across his chest, and he couldn't even remember when she'd unbuttoned his shirt. Not that he cared as long as she kept touching him.

And, man, was she touching him. A pleasure he fully intended to reciprocate. Trailing a finger along the waistband of her pants, he gauged her reaction, not wanting to rush her, needing to make this as un-freakin'-believable for her as it was for him.

Her fingers vise-gripped his wrist. She stared straight into eyes. "No more playing around, hotshot."

She urged his hand inside her waistband as she nipped his bottom lip. She kicked her shoes free, each one thudding to the floor.

The lady didn't have to tell him twice.

His hand dipped inside, cupping the warm curve of her bottom, edging aside the stretchy fabric of her pants. With an extra tug from Kathleen, her pants and underwear slipped, rolled, peeled down her legs and off.

Swinging a leg over, she straddled his hips, a bare knee on either side searing through his jeans. For twelve years he'd wanted her, had imagined this moment more than once, yet he'd never even come close to the reality.

His eyes feasted on her, as greedy as his hands. Wild red hair tangled around her face. A lone strand fluttered to rest on her full, damp lips. The vee of her shirt plunged low, white cotton pooling around the tops of her thighs.

Her deft hands popped free the button fly on his jeans. The temperature in the cabin rose at least ten degrees.

Nudging aside his boxers, she clasped him in her soft hand, flicked her thumb over him. His eyes slid closed as his head thudded back against the seat. He inhaled, blinked, scavenged for control as he captured her wrist. "Slow down, hon. No rush on this."

"I want fast. Now. Isn't twelve years long enough to wait?" The pupils of her cat eyes widened, darkened, until only a small ring of blue remained, leaving no doubts about how much she wanted him.

"Yes, ma'am, it is."

He splayed a hand on Kathleen's back as he reached forward, rocking her toward the dash so he could palm one of the packets. Kathleen plucked it from his hand as they sat upright again.

Her fingernail lightly rasped up the length of him before she sheathed him with excruciating precision. "Next time, we'll do it your way."

Next time.

Those two words pleased him as much as the silken glide of her body as she lowered herself onto him. He didn't want to think about why her words were so important. Not at this particular moment.

Slow, torturously so, she slid her way down until she settled chest to chest against him, enclosed him in a moist heat that threatened to end it all.

He thrust up. She gasped, shivered, moaned.

She may have orchestrated this, but damned if he would let her control everything. He tunneled his hands beneath her shirt as his face ducked to nudge aside her collar. His mouth closed around her satin-covered breast, laved attention on the needy peak. Circling her tightening nipple, he mirrored with his hand teasing lower where their bodies joined, finding an answering bead of arousal.

A purr swelled in the back of her throat, vibrating through her chest, under his mouth. She scored her fingers up his chest, beneath his shirt until her fingernails dug into his shoulders, deeper, harder, until with a throaty cry she sagged against him.

Two shuddering breaths later, her head flung back, revealing a perfect stretch of neck for him to explore, while he guided her h*ps and she demanded a rhythm all her own. Until they both gave up the battle and simply moved. Together.

Tanner's hands crawled all over her skin, needing to touch every inch of that velvet softness, longing to possess all of her if only for a few hours. For once, he could hold her the way he'd always wanted to. For once, Kathleen didn't fight him. Instead, she sighed, moaned and whimpered her pleasure in a running monologue that had him so crazy he didn't know how long he could stave off the building pleasure.

Her throaty purr started again, followed by a hitch in her breath he now recognized. He was so grateful for that sigh of hers, that increasing sweet sound. The need to finish, pour into her until there wasn't anything left, shuddered through him and he wasn't going alone.

Tanner caught her before she collapsed back onto the control panel. She arched against his hands, her hair streaming against his fingers.