Coming Up for Air

“Holy shit,” she muttered, and stroked a fingertip down the shallow groove that bisected his torso until she encountered the tip of his erection where it protruded above the waistband of his boxers. “It’s like you’ve been … airbrushed. Only, better.”

Chance gave a huff of laughter, grateful for the long hours he’d spent in physical training. He kept his body in prime condition, not just because the army required it, but because he and his brother had an ongoing rivalry over which of them was in better shape. With his rigorous special ops training, Chase usually kicked his ass in that department, but Chance suddenly didn’t care. If Jenna Larson liked what she saw, that was more than good enough for him.

She still straddled his hips, and when she swirled the tip of her finger over the head of his penis, Chance groaned and strained upward.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he growled softly. “My turn.”

Without giving her time to protest, he slid her to one side of the blanket and sat up, bending forward to yank his boots off and toss them aside. Her eyes never left him as he peeled his shirt away and spread it out on the blanket behind him, before he stood and swiftly shed his jeans. Finally, when all he wore were his boxers, he dropped back onto the blanket and turned to Jenna.

“That’s better,” he murmured, and scooted closer until mere inches separated them. Bracing himself on his forearm, he undid the first button of her blouse, and then the second. In the dim light, he could just make out the lacy edge of her bra. His fingers paused over the third button, and he slanted her a questioning look.

“Don’t stop now,” she murmured, and a hint of a smile curved her lips. Beneath his hand, Chance could feel the frantic, unsteady beat of her heart.

He slid a hand beneath the fall of her hair and dipped his head to cover her lips once more. She sighed into his mouth and her hand forged a molten trail along his rib cage and over his hip to boldly cup his butt and urge him closer.

Chance resisted the urge to grind against her, and instead focused on slowly unbuttoning her blouse as he explored her mouth with his tongue. When the fabric fell open beneath his fingers, he raised his head to admire the exposed swell of soft flesh beneath the lacy bra and the long, slender length of her waist.

“Gorgeous,” he muttered, and stroked the back of his fingers across the satiny skin, watching in fascination as her stomach muscles contracted beneath his touch. When he reached the waistband of her jeans, he didn’t wait for her permission, but flicked the button open and drew the zipper down in one easy movement. In the splayed vee of denim, he could just make out the top edge of her panties, and was helpless to prevent himself from laying his palm against her smooth abdomen. He wanted to plant his mouth there. Christ, he wanted to kiss her everywhere. He wanted to lick her skin, breathe in her scent and feel her softness against his palms. He dragged in a deep breath and forced himself to slow down.

Jenna made a small sound of frustration, and then her hands were there, pushing her jeans over her hips, even as she kicked her sandals free from her feet. Chance watched, mesmerized, as her long legs were exposed, and then she was gloriously bare except for the scrap of lace at her crotch, gleaming white in the darkness.

She rolled toward him, hitching one slim thigh over his leg, and running her hand along his bare skin. With a muffled groan, he gathered her fully against him, his hands smoothing over her back to survey the dips and curves of her shoulder blades and spine. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled her fragrance. She was slim and supple, and when he drew a hand along the back of her thigh and angled her leg higher over his hip, she made an inarticulate sound of pleasure in her throat and pressed her center against his aching cock. She planted hot, moist kisses against his neck and jaw, and her hands were everywhere, exploring his body with an urgency that told him just how aroused she was. Sliding a hand between their bodies, he cupped her through the scrap of silk.

Heat. Moisture. Incredible softness.

Easing the fabric to one side, he stroked a finger along her slick cleft. She gave a strangled cry of pleasure and her hips bucked sharply.

Lust slammed into him with the force of a freight train.

Jenna moaned softly and pushed herself against his fingers, drenching them with the evidence of her arousal. Chance’s cock grew even stiffer, and with a rough sound of need, he rolled her onto her back and settled himself between her splayed thighs, rocking hard against her core. Jenna groaned loudly and grabbed the back of his head, slanting her mouth over his in a deep, openmouthed kiss that sent bolts of white-hot flame straight to his balls. He had a hard time focusing on anything except how bad he wanted to be inside her. He needed to slow down.

Breaking the kiss, he pushed her bra down beneath her breasts, and then covered one plump mound with his hand and rubbed his thumb across the distended tip.

“Oh, God. That feels so good,” she gasped, and arched upward, rubbing herself along the length of his erection. “Help me take these off.”

Chance turned his face to watch as she pushed her panties down and used her feet to kick them free. In the dim light, he could just make out the dark triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs, and then she was pulling him back on top of her, settling him into the cradle of her hips so that his heavy erection rested against her mons.

“Where were we?” she asked in a sultry whisper.

“Right here,” he muttered.

Dipping his head, Chance wrapped his lips around one nipple, drawing it into his mouth as he suckled it. Jenna speared her fingers through his hair and held his head to her breast, her breathing coming in uneven pants. He laved her breast with his tongue while he continued to cup and stroke her other breast with his free hand. He was acutely conscious of her nudity as she squirmed desperately beneath him, bracing one heel on the back of his thigh and rubbing herself against his rigid arousal. But when she reached between their bodies and gripped him in her hand, he nearly came apart.

“Jesus!” He dragged his mouth from her breast and looked down to see her stroking the smooth head of his penis against her slippery clitoris. He was breathing hard, just barely keeping himself in check, but when he looked back at Jenna’s face, he saw she’d already lost it. Her eyes were half-closed, her expression one of pleasure-pain as she rotated her hips against his swollen flesh. As Chance watched, enthralled, she shuddered lightly and cried out, bucking against him as her orgasm washed over her. But when she would have pushed him inside herself, a small vestige of sanity made him grasp her wrist, and he drew marginally away from her.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at him, dazed. “What’s wrong?” Her words were thick. “Don’t you want to?”

Her fingers were still wrapped around his shaft, squeezing him at the base, and it took all his restraint not to spill himself in her hand. She looked like every erotic fantasy he’d ever had, sprawled beneath him with her breasts pushed up, her expression one of pure sexual desire as she held his throbbing dick in her hand.

“I’m not wearing a condom,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, shit.” She abruptly released him.

Chance sucked in a lungful of air as he struggled for control, using the opportunity to shuck his boxers completely. Propping herself on one elbow, Jenna grabbed her discarded jeans and began fishing through the pockets until, with a frustrated growl, she gave the pants a vigorous shake. Chance heard the tinkle of something metallic hit the blanket, and then two small foil squares plopped onto her stomach.

He looked at her in disbelief. “You carry condoms in your pocket?”

Even in the darkness, he saw the color that washed into her face. “Not me—my friend,” she explained. “She gave them to me earlier.”

“Give her a kiss for me when you see her,” he said, and tore one of the wrappers open with his teeth.

When he would have rolled the sheath over himself, Jenna’s hands were there to do it for him. Then he was easing himself into her, inch by exquisite inch, while she made small, feminine sounds of pleasure and rocked her hips to meet him. When he was fully seated in her tightness, he paused and struggled for control. She was hot and wet and unbelievably snug, and he could feel the walls of her inner muscles clenching him. The condom had thankfully dulled his sensitized nerve endings, but only enough that he was able to push inside her without coming. He was completely jacked for her. Slowly, he withdrew and then sank back into her, feeling her muscles squeezing him. He groaned as pressure gathered at the base of his spine.

“Christ, you feel good,” he muttered, and thrust again. “I want you to come again, this time with me in you.”

“Oh, God,” she panted as he increased his pace, pulling out until he was almost free from her body, and then plunging back in. “Oh, yeah …”

Reaching down, he caught her leg behind the knee and pushed it back, bracing himself on one hand so that he could watch the spot where they were joined. The sight of his cock disappearing into her body was incredibly arousing, and he knew he wasn’t far from his own orgasm.

“Come for me,” he demanded softly, and releasing her leg, he reached between their bodies to stroke her with his thumb, sliding his finger over the small, slick nub of flesh. She gave a sharp cry of pleasure and lifted her head to watch. Her entire body trembled. Chance quickened his thrusts as he stroked her, feeling his balls tighten painfully with the need for release.

He was only vaguely aware of the distant thwap-thwap of helicopter rotors approaching, signaling the return of the Black Hawks from their night mission. At that moment, an entire squadron of attack choppers could have landed beside them and he would have been helpless to react. Nothing existed but the woman beneath him and the sharp, hot arousal that spiraled through him.

Jenna’s expression was taut, her eyes hazy and unfocused as she raised her gaze to his, and he knew the precise instant when she teetered on the brink of climax and then plummeted over the edge. At the same time, the roar of helicopter engines became deafening as the battalion of Black Hawks flew directly overhead, churning up wind and grass, and causing Chance’s entire body to thrum with vibration. He heard himself give a hoarse shout as he came in a blinding, white-hot rush of pleasure that caused his spine to bow and his molars to ache. Several long moments later, when all he could hear were the surrounding crickets and his own harsh breathing, he became aware of Jenna’s fingers tracing lazy patterns across his lower back, and he raised his head to peer at her.

“You okay?” His voice sounded raspy.

She turned her face and planted a damp kiss against his mouth. Her breath was warm and came in soft pants against his skin. “Better than okay.” She gave a soft laugh. “That was freaking amazing. In fact, I think that may have qualified as the best sex of my life. Two orgasms … Who would have thought?”

Chance smiled against her neck, absurdly pleased by her words and knowing that sex with Jenna Larson had definitely been the best he’d ever had. The only problem was he wanted more.

“Do you think they saw us?”

“Who?” He was having trouble getting his head together, and it took a minute for her words to register. The sound of rotors had dimmed to a distant whir, and then they stopped altogether. “You mean, the helos? No way. They didn’t have their spotlights on, and their attention would have been focused on the landing pad, and not on the field. Besides, it’s too dark.”

“What if the pilots were wearing night-vision goggles?”

Withdrawing from the warmth of her body, Chance neatly disposed of the condom before reclining back on the blanket and pulling Jenna snugly against his side. “If the pilots were wearing night-vision goggles, and if they spotted us, then all they saw was my backside.” He pressed a kiss against her temple. “Don’t worry.”

Jenna made an incoherent sound that told him she wasn’t completely reassured, but before Chance could soothe her further, something hard and sharp dug into his hip. Reaching beneath him, he retrieved the offending object. He held it up, staring at it in bemusement. A set of military dog tags dangled from the end of his fingers, and since his own tags were fastened securely around his neck, he knew they didn’t belong to him. He turned to Jenna in disbelief.

“Are these yours?”

“What if they are?” Her voice sounded defensive.

“Jesus. Why didn’t you tell me you were active duty?”

“Does it matter?” Pulling her bra into place, she snatched the necklace from his hand and dropped the chain over her head so that the tags nestled between her breasts. Pulling away from Chance, she sat up and fished around on the blanket until she found her panties.

“Goddamn right, it matters,” Chance retorted, watching as she stood up to pull them on. Even as his thoughts raced through the various—and unpleasant—implications of what this could mean, he couldn’t help but admire her lithe form as she quickly got dressed. Unless she was a commissioned officer, he could get into serious trouble for fraternization, since contact with enlisted members was strictly prohibited. “Please tell me you’re not enlisted.”

She paused long enough to give him a tolerant look, and then balled up his discarded boxers and threw them at his chest. “Don’t worry. I may be a sucker for a handsome face, but I’m not completely brainless. I’m an army captain.”

Chance refrained from making the obvious rejoinder, too floored by her admission to crack any kind of joke. He could only stare stupidly at her. He definitely hadn’t seen this one coming. “So what is it that you do?” he finally managed. “What unit are you assigned to?”

She paused in buttoning her blouse and looked across the meadow and razor-wire fences to the runway and helicopter landing area. “See those Black Hawks? That’s my unit. I’m with the 10th Combat Aviation Brigade out of Fort Drum. If I hadn’t already exceeded my flying hours for the day, I would have been piloting one of those birds to the extraction site.”

For a moment, Chance was too stunned to speak. When he finally found his voice, it sounded strained. “You’re a Black Hawk pilot?”

Jenna thrust her long legs into her jeans and pulled them up, watching him warily. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Hell, no,” Chance assured her as he stood up and began to gather his own clothing. “I think it’s great! I mean that sincerely. Really.” He paused and scrubbed a hand hard over his face and laughed softly. A freaking pilot. Who would have thought? “You just surprised me, that’s all. As a matter of fact, I’m—”

“I know what they say about pilots,” she interrupted, “and most of the time, I’m in total agreement.”

Chance looked at her, puzzled. “What do they say about pilots?”

She shrugged and sat down on the blanket. Reaching for the bottle of wine, she poured them both a little more. “How do you know if you’re halfway through a date with a pilot?” She gave him an overly bright smile. “Because he—or in my case, she—says ‘That’s enough about flying. Let’s talk about me!’“

Chance laughed and lowered himself down beside her. “You haven’t talked about flying once tonight, but if you’d like, we can talk about you. In fact, you are quickly becoming my new favorite subject.”

He watched her closely in the indistinct light, wishing he could read the expression in her eyes. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. Who would have guessed that she was a freaking helicopter pilot? It shouldn’t have mattered, but for him it made all the difference.

She took a sip of wine, smiling at him from over the rim of the cup. “How do you know when there’s a pilot at your party?”

Chance had heard the joke countless times, but he shrugged. “I don’t know. How?”

“He’ll tell you. How many pilots does it take to change a lightbulb?” She waited, but when Chance didn’t respond, she continued. “Just one. He holds the lightbulb, while the world revolves around him.”

“Wow.” Chance gave a small huff of laughter. “Sounds like you don’t think very highly of your fellow pilots.”

“Oh, no. That’s where you’re wrong. I have a huge amount of respect for what they do when they’re in the cockpit. They’re some of the bravest, most talented guys I know.” She grimaced. “It’s what they do the rest of the time that bugs me.”

“Clarify, please.”

Jenna shrugged. “They’re incapable of handling a committed relationship. If they have to consider anyone other than themselves, they fail. Basically, they’re shallow, narcissistic, egotistical, arrogant—” She broke off abruptly. “Well, you get the picture.”

Chance blew out a hard breath. Her words both disturbed and disappointed him. “So … you dated a pilot and he turned out to be a self-centered jackass, is that it?”

To his surprise, Jenna shook her head. “No way. My opinions are based strictly on a lifetime of observation. I’ve never actually dated another pilot. In fact, I make it a point to steer clear of them—at least, romantically.”

Chance felt something fist low in his gut. “Oh, yeah? I’d think you’d be happy to have someone who understands what it is you do. Someone who really gets it.”

“Ha! The only thing they want to get is laid.”

“So I guess you’re performing true to form, then, huh?” Chance couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at you … you’re a pilot. What makes you so different from the guys? You clearly wanted to get laid, and you succeeded.” He gave her a terse smile. “Glad to have been of service, ma’am.”

He began buttoning his shirt, refusing to look at her, because if he did, she might see something in his eyes that he was trying really hard to hide.

Regret. Disappointment.

He shouldn’t care what her motives were for being with him. It wasn’t as if he was planning on seeing her again. They’d agreed that this wasn’t going to be anything more than a onetime hookup. No strings. No commitments. So why did he feel so miserable?

Jenna sighed. Reaching out, she lay a hand on his arm. “Look, it wasn’t like that, okay?” She gave a rueful laugh. “To your credit, I broke my own rules when I agreed to come out here with you. My number-one rule is to never sleep with a pilot, so at least I didn’t break that rule, thank God. But I generally try not to get involved with anyone in the military, period. I don’t like to mix business with pleasure.”

The woman didn’t have the first clue what he did for a living. Chance’s first instinct was to tell her, just so he could see her response. Instead, he gave a snort and finished fastening his shirt. He didn’t trust himself to look at her. “I’m flattered. Really.”

She made a sound of frustration. “I’m not trying to flatter you—”

“Do the guys in your battalion have any clue how you feel about them?” he asked, cutting her off. He knew he sounded bitter, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Do they realize what a low opinion you have of them?”

Even in the darkness, he could see how taken aback she was. “Just because I prefer not to sleep with them doesn’t mean I have a low opinion of them. And why are you getting upset about this? Trust me, they have such high opinions of themselves that what I think doesn’t even register on their ego-meters.”

“Right.” Chance pushed himself to his feet and began scooping up their things, forcing her to scoot off the blanket so that he could roll it into an untidy ball and stuff it into his saddlebag. “It’s getting late. I’ll take you back to the club or drive you home. Whichever you prefer.”

He didn’t look at Jenna, but concentrated on packing up instead. He felt like he’d just made a crash landing after an exceptionally spectacular flight, and now his only hope was that he could walk away from the wreckage unscathed. He wasn’t going to argue with her and ruin what had, up until a few moments ago, been the best night he’d spent in a very long time. She was entitled to her opinions and it wasn’t like they were ever going to see each other again. Even if he had wanted to ask her out, once she discovered what he did for a living, she’d be gone from his life faster than a Hellfire missile.

Better to let her believe that her record was untarnished. Because after hearing her opinions about pilots, there was no way in hell he was going to tell her that she’d broken her own number-one rule. She’d just had the best sex of her life with an Apache helicopter pilot. Boo-rah.

4

Two months later—Nuristan Province, Afghanistan

JENNA BROUGHT THE BLACK Hawk in low and fast, her eyes sweeping the narrow mountain pass for any signs of insurgency. Behind her, in the open door of the cabin, Specialist Leeann Baker squeezed off several magazines as a warning to deter any possible ambush. Once through the pass, Jenna would have a visual on Forward Operating Base Kalagush, where her current passengers would disembark and she would collect another group bound for Kabul Air Base.

The stark valley, surrounded on all sides by the naked, forbidding peaks of the Hindu Kush mountains, always gave Jenna the shivers. No matter how many times she flew this particular route, she couldn’t shake the sense that she’d stumbled into an episode of The Land That Time Forgot. If a prehistoric pterodactyl suddenly took wing from the nearby crags, she wouldn’t have been at all surprised.

Fortunately, the only predatory birds in the nearby airspace were the second Black Hawk that flew hard on her right flank and the fully manned Apache attack helicopter that provided cover from above. Even with the armed escorts, she wouldn’t breathe easy until they were on the ground at Kalagush. They’d stay just long enough to refuel and reload passengers, before they made the return trip to Kabul Air Base, arriving before darkness fell.

In the seat beside her, so close that their elbows nearly touched, Warrant Officer Laura Costanza radioed their position to the control tower at the remote base. Jenna listened carefully to the instructions provided by the tower and checked the coordinates on the multifunctional display. She’d been flying for nearly five hours, and now she feathered the cyclic stick between her knees while simultaneously working the collective to control her angle of descent.

The mountain pass opened up, and spread out on the desolate wasteland beneath her was the sprawling complex of Forward Operating Base Kalagush, a small patch of Western civilization smack in the middle of the unforgiving terrain of northern Afghanistan. Several minutes later, Jenna brought the helicopter to a smooth landing on the helipad and shut the rotors down.

“Welcome to Kalagush,” she shouted to the soldiers as they gathered their gear together in the cabin. “Enjoy your stay and thank you for flying with the U.S. Army. We know you have no other options, but we still appreciate your business.”

As always, her comments drew laughs and ribald comments from the men as they jumped down from the helicopter and made their way across the tarmac to their new duty station.

“And they say women can’t park!” one of the soldiers said, grinning at her as he climbed out. “Nice flying, ma’am!”

“How long do we have?” she asked Laura, as she shut everything down and completed her flight paperwork.

Laura flipped open a flight book and consulted her watch. “Twenty minutes to unload, refuel, reload and lift off.”

Switching off her headset, Jenna removed her helmet and climbed down from the cockpit and stretched her tight muscles, watching as her flight crew went through the routine of checking the aircraft and preparing it for the return trip. The crew chief, Sergeant First Class Samantha Helwig, began coordinating with the ground personnel to unload the supplies and mailbags that she carried in her cargo bay, while a fuel truck lumbered toward them. Nearby, the other two helicopters were undergoing similar activity.