Crash and Burn (3 page)

For a long moment, the heat built between
them. Dane stared at her, his hands tensing on his thighs. One sexy
god sprawled on a bench with one hell of an erection punching at
the front of his coveralls. The bench it was, she decided. Hell,
she didn’t even know if that poor piece of furniture could hold
them both, but she planned on finding out. If they hit the floor,
the distance wasn’t too far to fall.

She stepped closer, toeing off her boots and
sliding her pants down her legs. Because he was watching, she made
it slow, imagining his big hands stripping her down to her bare
skin right before he pulled her into his arms and loved her
good.

“I’m not real interested in the beer,” he
muttered roughly. His eyes lit up with fire and that was a good
look for him.

“Perfect.” She straddled his lap and leaned
in. “Neither am I.”

Fisting her hands in his T-shirt, she hauled
the fabric over his head. He let her do it, too, his arms coming
around her as soon as the cotton hit the floor.

“Hey.” The sexy rumble of his voice had her
squirming. He leaned in to meet her, the muscles of his thighs
flexing deliciously beneath her ass. The move pressed his erection
into her mound. Oh, yeah.

“Hello yourself.” She dropped a hand between
them, tracing his thick length with her fingertips. “Happy to see
me, soldier?”

“Always.” He grinned at her. “Now shut up and
kiss me.”

No problem. She met his mouth halfway,
relaxing her mouth as his opened over hers. Parting her lips so she
could taste him. And kiss him good. She took her time, sucking his
top lip before she switched to his bottom. There was no rush this
afternoon, even though her body was saying
now now now
.

He pulled back and she swallowed a whimper.
Begging wasn’t on this afternoon’s agenda. “When did you learn to
kiss like that?”

Her visceral reaction to the possessiveness
in his voice was a red flag. “Are you complaining?”

“Maybe.” His eyes narrowed, his hands holding
her face still. “Would it do any good?”

“Nope.” She smiled at him. Covering his
nipples with her palms, she pressed in, waiting.

“All right then. The way I see it”—he
smoothed a hand down her spine— “this is my chance to make sure you
don’t want to go practicing with anyone else.”

“Possessive much?”

“You have no idea.” He dropped a quick, hard
kiss on her mouth.

Oh, she did. She looked at him and had one
thought:
mine
. She didn’t want to share him with anyone.
Fortunately, he was all hers for this afternoon at the very least.
She squeezed his hips with her thighs, anchoring him in place.
Not getting away
.

“Ride me.” His hands palmed her hips, rocking
her. Forward. Up. Her breath came in sharp, short pants as each
long glide stroked her pussy over that hard ridge.

She wanted more. Dropping her hands between
them, she worked the zipper on his coveralls until she could palm
his erection.

“I want this.”

“Sure.” Laughter filled his face, as his big
fingers tugged at the straps of her panties. “But you’re going to
have to lose these.”

She looked him in the eye. “Tear them off
me.”

“Hell. Yeah.” He snapped the lacy ribbons
with one rough tug. The silky fabric caught and rubbed at her folds
as he pulled. She swallowed a gasp and a moan, lifting her ass so
he could pull the nylon free. He was roughly careful. Not too hard,
but not soft either, until he had her panties fisted in his hand.
The scrap fluttered to the floor. She’d need to remember to take
them with her when she went.

Not yet
.

She finished taking his zipper down. He’d
gone commando.
Bad soldier
.

Fisting his dick, she pushed her hand down
the hot length, savoring the groan he couldn’t quite bite back. He
got even right away, his fingers parting her folds, running up and
down her core until she was slick and needy.

Neither of them was going to last. Hell, they
didn’t have time on their side anyhow, because the hangar wouldn’t
stay empty for long, maybe another twenty minutes while his boys
finished detailing the CF&R trucks parked outside and grabbed a
bite. So she snagged the condom she’d brought, tearing up the foil
packet and rolling the latex down. Yeah. She’d come prepared. He
didn’t seem to mind, though. The thick head pushed demandingly
against her palm and she rubbed her hand over him.

“Now,” she demanded.

His hands gripped her hips, lifting her. Then
he was pushing deep inside her. Burning pleasure replaced the tight
pinch and she sliding down, down, down. Her body welcomed his,
surrounding and taking him as he pushed impossibly deep inside.
God. She’d forgotten that this much pleasure existed.

Hard and fast, he moved in and out of her
channel. Slamming deep and hitting all her pleasure points.
He
was so good
.

“Missed you,” she groaned, the words slipping
out of her mouth before she could bite them back and he growled his
agreement.

In. Out. Pushing them both higher and higher
until he had her seeing red; the sweet sensations streaking through
her core were inescapable. And then he was waiting for her, just
like he had before. Holding back his own orgasm while she hurtled
towards hers. Ready to catch her when she fell—

“Let go. I’ve got you,” he said, pressing a
hard kiss against her temple. He did. He always had. He was her
steady, reliable Dane. A fucking white knight. But she came,
grinding against him in short, hard spasms. And he didn’t lose it,
didn’t go over that edge until she’d done so.

His semi-soft penis slipped out of her body.
Dane could have stayed like that all day—okay, eventually he would
have moved them to the cot the guys kept for emergency napping—but
Laura Jo was apparently in a rush. On a schedule.
Something
.
Laura Jo never had been one for sitting still. Now, she swung off
his lap and turned away. Play time was over.

Fuck
.

“I missed you too.” He blurted the words out,
praying they weren’t a mistake. Sure, he was talking to her back,
but the admission had to count for something, right? At least he
was talking. Even if—he frowned—it sure looked like she was
walking.

Right after she’d banged his brains out in
the CF&R hangar.

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to
turn out.

“It’s been a long time since high school,”
she said finally.

Really? That was it? She acted like they’d
bumped into each other in fucking Starbucks or the grocery store.
He sat up. Zipped up. Putting his clothes back together was a hell
of a lot easier than figuring out what ideas were running through
Laura Jo’s head.

She bent over and snagged her panties. Eyed
them. Yeah. She’d be doing some shopping because there wasn’t a
whole lot to rescue there. So much for his hoping those panties
represented a white flag. Laura Jo never surrendered. Ever.

“Did you really miss me?” He pushed, needing
to hear her answer.

She abandoned the panties and stepped into
her pants. “We’ve seen each other since then, Dane.”

“On duty. In passing.” He shrugged, but there
was nothing casual about how he felt. That was the thing about
Laura Jo. When he was around her, he
felt
. She brought out
all these messy emotions in him, until he wasn’t thinking at all.
Just reacting. “That doesn’t count.”

The sound of her zipper going up and the
button snapping shut was painfully loud in the hangar. She was
putting herself back together. In another five, she’d be out the
door and he’d have lost his chance.

“Tell me you don’t remember our first night
together.” She froze at his blunt words. Yeah, she’d put up the
No trespassing
sign ten years ago and he’d respected her
need for privacy. No more. This wasn’t just about her. This was
about
them
.

She grabbed her bra. “You really want to go
there?”

“Absolutely.” He was going to need all the
insurance he could get, so he stuck a boot on her T-shirt. If she
wanted to walk, he wouldn’t make it easy. Not this time. “You
remember that bonfire, after the last football game of our senior
year?”

“We had sex,” she said bluntly.

They’d had more than that. Memories flashed
through his head. The bonfire down on the beach had been school
tradition, celebrating that last win, the final touchdown before
the graduating seniors went their separate ways and disappeared
where life took them. Laura Jo had showed up late, long after the
party had gotten started. He’d had two beers and had been
considering calling it a night when she’d appeared by his side and
drawn him off into the shadows. What had happened after that had
been way more than merely sex. At least for him.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Fuck, but he
was no poet. He needed to make this work, needed to convince her
they’d had a chance at something they could still reclaim.

The words that came out of his mouth,
however, were distinctly unsuave and unconvincing. “Once. Then you
left me.”

Way to go
.

She froze for a moment. “I had to go.”

“Things at home,” he said roughly, because
he’d known some of it. Had seen the finger-shaped bruises for the
first time that night. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it that
night, though, and he’d believed he’d have more time with her. Time
to coax his Laura Jo into trusting him with those secrets.

“Yeah,” she admitted finally. “Leaving was a
necessity.”

He would have gone with her. Hell, he
had
. She just hadn’t asked him.

She casually tucked her breasts back into the
lacy cups, snapping the front shut. Adjusted the fit like she
didn’t care he was watching or that, from where he sat, seeing her
get dressed was every bit as intimate as undressing her. “I didn’t
realize we were an item,” she continued.

“We weren’t.” And he’d hated that. “But we
could have been.”

She shook her head. “We were total opposites,
Dane. We came from completely different worlds. You were the
all-American quarterback. I was trouble.”

Yeah. She absolutely had been. He shouldn’t
have been surprised when she earned her wings. She’d been born to
fly. She was smart, but she was trouble. And him? He’d watched and
waited, praying he’d get a chance and she’d let him get close,
because he’d seen how she pushed every guy away.

“I was your first.” Admitting he knew wasn’t
PC, but fuck playing by the rules. She never had.

“I didn’t know if you knew.” A small smile
played over her lips. “That you were my first.”

“Yeah,” he admitted gruffly. “I could
tell.”

He’d known and not because guys talked and no
one had scored with Laura Jo. His first clue had been the sweet,
tight resistance of her body as he carefully tunneled his way
inside, his hands palming her hips and holding on. If he was being
honest, though, and apparently he’d decided to do some soul baring
today, he’d known because the look of wonder on her face said she
hadn’t guessed that making love would feel like this. Raw. Slightly
awkward. Deeply connected. Feelings he’d shared. That one night had
been the most intensely erotic experience of his life until today.
He’d thought about that night more times than he cared to
remember.

“You were mine.”

Her head swung around. “Your first?”

“Yeah.” He grinned at her. “Although my high
school self was
definitely
hoping you couldn’t tell.”

“Oh.” She chewed on her lower lip, the first
sign he’d seen that Second Lieutenant Dawson wasn’t one hundred
percent in control and completely sure of her flight path.

Laura Jo didn’t
owe
anyone. Saying
thank you ranked right up there with root canals and income
taxes—but she definitely owed Dane that much for his timely
intervention at the end of the runway. And she’d chosen to come
here. Maybe some part of her had been hoping he’d meant those
promises he’d made all those years. That he’d always be waiting for
her. Always ready to catch her.

“Thank you.” Two little words that hung in
the air between them. “For rescuing me.”

“Any time.” He dropped a kiss against her
temple. “But maybe you could wait at least another nine, ten years
before pulling a repeat. No more crashing, okay?”

She smiled at that. “Chicken.”

“Hell, yeah. I’m an older man because of that
stunt you pulled.”

She didn’t want to admit how much he’d rocked
her world. “So.” She swiped her T-shirt from the floor. Talk about
the walk of shame. “See you around.”

His slow smile should have warned her. Dane
wasn’t done yet. “You really going to run off on me just like
that?”

His hand gently shackled her wrist, his thumb
rubbing slow circles over her pulse.

“Let go,” she said. He did. He always had
when she asked. But he made her ask.

Part of her wanted him to hang on. To ignore
the words coming out of her mouth and make her stay. That wasn’t
how her life worked. It wasn’t how she really
wanted
it to
work. She’d fought long and hard to be independent. To earn the
right to soar.

Too bad she wanted something else as
well.

Someone
more
.

“Stay,” he said, watching her face, and she
froze.

“Excuse me?” That wasn’t her heart soaring,
couldn’t possibly be. A jet thundered by outside and she had to
wait for the afterburner to pass for his answer.

“Don’t go again. Stay with me.”

Maybe it was just the sex. Or the beer. Or a
hot afternoon in the hangar with nothing much to do.

She said as much and he grinned. “One of
these days, you’re going to trust me. You’re going to give me that
second chance,” he said.