No Contest

by Harper St. George

  It felt nothing short of miraculous.

  Moving her gaze from the plane, she searched for Leandro, taking in a deep breath when she saw him helping the pilot, who was cradling his arm, blood streaming from his nose. Silently, she counted the people who’d come from the plane, her lips moving as she forced herself to focus.

  Eight. There were eight, including herself. Everyone had made it out.

  She hadn’t realized that she was crying until she saw the wet splotches hitting her jeans. Absently, she reached up and wiped at her eyes, trying to blink away the tears, but they wouldn’t stop. They were tears of relief, tears of hope, tears of gratitude. Because while they’d been plummeting toward the ground, her life had flashed before her eyes, but not like it often happened in the movies. She hadn’t revisited old memories. Instead, she’d seen hypothetical images of her future. All the things still to come that she hadn’t experienced yet. An instant bucket list.

  Excelling in her career, maybe even starting her own PR firm one day.

  Traveling. Experiencing new things, new cultures, new parts of the world.

  Watching Kayla grow and find her path in life.

  Falling in love. Getting married. Having a family.

  At that last thought, her eyes once again darted to Leandro, and her heart fluttered in her chest when she realized he was headed toward her.

  If she was completely honest with herself, the hopeful, optimistic, maybe even foolish part of her heart had envisioned a future with him during those brief, terrifying moments. She hadn’t expected him to comfort her, to hold her, to look at her as though she was everything to him as the plane raced toward the ground. To kiss her as if it were the last thing he were going to do. In the moment, she hadn’t known how to process any of it; hell, she still didn’t. Who was this man who kept proving all her assumptions about him wrong? As he walked toward her, his words echoed through her mind in time with his steps.

  The last thing I want to do is hurt you.

  I didn’t want you to leave.

  I would take care of you.

  I’ve got you.

  For the first time, she wondered if he’d really meant the things he’d said, words she’d assumed were meant to get her back into his bed. Were they true? She swallowed thickly as she realized that she wanted them to be. What could they be to each other, given the chance?

  But if she wanted to find out, she knew that she needed to let go of her fear, let go of the baggage her mother had piled onto her. She knew she’d been holding herself back, playing it safe, not taking any risks for fear of repeating her mother’s mistakes, for fear of sacrificing her own happiness for a man. But she needed to let go of all of that and live. Not survive, not get by, but grab gigantic handfuls of life and claim it. Take it. Own it. She’d survived a plane crash, after all. Letting herself fall for someone—even if he was the wrong someone—felt so small in comparison.

  And what if Leandro wasn’t the wrong someone?

  She managed to get to her feet, not caring that she was dusty and dirty, not caring that her legs were still shaky, and with wide, hungry steps, each one coming faster than the last, she ate up the distance between her and Leandro. His hands landed on her hips as her arms slipped over his shoulders.

  “Minha linda,” he whispered, barely getting the words out before his mouth was on hers. His arms slid around her waist, pulling her against him as he kissed her, soft and gentle. Her fingers wove into his hair, not wanting to let him go. With his arms around her, his solid body pressed against hers, his reassuring scent filling her lungs, she felt safe.

  He broke the kiss, his nose grazing her cheek before he leaned his forehead against hers. “Graças a Deus,” he murmured, his fingers flexing into her.

  With his hands on her, his eyes so full of emotion and holding hers, she felt her frantic heart settle back into place.

  “I’m sorry that I—” she started, but he cut her off with another kiss, this one longer and hungrier than the first. His hands came up to cup her face, and she could feel them trembling as his thumbs stroked over her cheekbones.

  “No sorries. I don’t want them. I only want you, Ashlynn.” He kissed her again, as though needing to prove himself to her. “I only want you.”

  She opened and closed her mouth, unsure what to say, what to think, what to feel. Before she could come up with anything, he was called away, letting her go with a reluctant sigh.

  The sirens grew louder, and as the emergency personnel arrived, the temporary calm that had settled over the situation—everyone simply happy to have survived and made it out in one piece—evaporated. Firefighters rushed toward the plane, quickly beginning to coat the smoking engine in sprays of white foam. Officials from the airport pulled up in sedans with flashing lights, and the ambulances set up camp a small distance away, paramedics hurrying toward the group.

  The next hour passed in a blur as they were all moved farther away from the plane, each getting a thorough examination from the paramedics. Both the pilot and the copilot had sustained injuries, but nothing life-threatening.

  Leandro hovered outside the ambulance’s open doors as the paramedics wrapped Ashlynn in a Mylar blanket to help as she came down from the shock, and then proceeded to check her for symptoms of a concussion. Once they’d thoroughly checked her for any signs of internal trauma, they told her she was free to go.

  “You’re very, very lucky,” commented the paramedic as she pulled off her latex gloves, shooting Ashlynn a wry smile. “Talk about a close one.”

  Ashlynn nodded slowly, her eyes meeting Leandro’s. “I know. I could’ve lost everything.”

  The paramedic patted her on the shoulder. “You can go home. If you experience any symptoms such as confusion, dizziness, shortness of breath, or a sudden drop in blood pressure, go to your nearest emergency room. I don’t think you have any internal injuries, but if you feel unwell, get checked out.”

  Ashlynn nodded and then sucked in a deep breath, wondering how she was going to get home. Wondering if she’d ever be able to recover her things from the plane, or if everything was too damaged from smoke and the impact to be of any use to her. At least she could get inside the house using the spare key she kept hidden in the magnetic lockbox fastened to her air-conditioning unit.

  “Do you think Uber comes this far into the desert?” she asked, knowing it was a bad joke, but not knowing what else to say. She felt as though the impact of the landing had disconnected her brain from her mouth. Not that she had her phone to call an Uber. It was in her purse, which was still on the plane.

  “I’ve already called for a car,” said Leandro, his smooth, accented voice settling over her skin and warming her more than the Mylar blanket ever could.

  “How?” God, he really did have the world at his beck and call.

  He reached into his pocket and fished out his phone. The screen was a spiderweb of cracks. “Not pretty, but it still works.”

  Someone called to him and he moved away, going to check on one of his friends.

  “Your boyfriend?” asked the paramedic, a slightly dreamy look on her face as she watched the space where Leandro had just been.

  “Uh, no. We’re just . . . it’s . . . complicated,” she said, not wanting to lie to the paramedic about who Leandro was to her. God knew she was tired of lying to herself about her feelings for him.

  The paramedic nodded and then tipped her head. “Yeah, well. Sometimes events like this have a way of uncomplicating things, if you know what I mean.”

  Ashlynn had a feeling she did. She pulled the blanket from around her shoulders and handed it back to the paramedic. “Thank you,” she said, pushing to her feet and stepping out of the ambulance. News vans from local affiliate stations had arrived while she’d been in the ambulance, reporters standing talking into cameras with the still-smoking plane in the background. One of them saw her emerge from the ambulance and pointed, gesturing for her cameraman to get Ashlynn on-screen. She wondered if she should duck back
into the ambulance. The last thing she wanted to do right now was be on TV.

  Before she could decide, a strong arm circled around her waist, pulling her in the opposite direction. Leandro led them toward a waiting black SUV, and without a word, he helped her inside, then followed her in, slamming the door shut behind him. The vehicle started moving toward the highway, and Ashlynn scrambled to fasten her seat belt, her stomach lurching a little.

  Leandro stared at her, an unreadable expression on his face, and a silence fell between them, but it didn’t have the same awkwardness as before.

  “You didn’t have to come with me,” she said, thinking about his friends still back at the scene.

  “I called cars for everyone, and I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

  His hand moved across the leather separating them, landing on her knee. His thumb traced gentle circles over her kneecap, and when she met his eyes, they seemed almost unnaturally bright. “Are you okay, Ashlynn?”

  She nodded slowly. “I think so. I’m shaken up, but . . . yes. I’m okay.” She met his eyes. “Are you?”

  “Now that I know you’re safe, I am.”

  She sucked in a shaky breath, her heart not quite sure what to do with his words. “Thank you,” she said, her voice coming out hoarse. “For holding me and comforting me.”

  He raised a hand and stroked a thumb over her cheekbone, cradling her jaw. “If we were going to die, I wanted my last moments to be with you in my arms.”

  She could practically taste the sincerity of his words, shining out at her from his eyes, and she felt the last of her resistance dissolve, melting away like sugar in water.

  “That’s not a line, is it?” she asked, biting her bottom lip. His eyes tracked the movement.

  “No. No lines. Just the truth.” He let out a little laugh, shaking his head. “And yes, I’m as surprised as you are. But sometimes the best things in life are a surprise.”

  Ashlynn couldn’t remember the last time she’d let herself be surprised by something. Everything in her life was tightly planned, controlled, not allowing for anything to push her off track. But Leandro had completely derailed her, and she couldn’t help but feel . . . free.

  She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. He let out a low groan and kissed her, his mouth closing gently over hers. She never would’ve thought he’d be capable of such tenderness, and a lump formed in her throat.

  Leandro’s phone rang, and he broke the kiss and pulled it from his pocket, answering it and speaking in Portuguese. She settled back into her seat, watching the city get closer and closer.

  After he ended his call, Leandro tapped her on the shoulder and extended the phone to her. “Anyone you want to call?”

  She took it, shooting him a grateful smile, and quickly called Kayla, and then her mother, reassuring them that she was a little shaken up but otherwise fine.

  By the time she’d finished her second phone call, they’d pulled into her driveway. The sight of her neat town house had her eyes burning with unshed tears, and she realized that for several moments, she’d really, truly thought that she was going to die. Before she got out of the car, she raised a hand, tracing the tips of her fingers over Leandro’s mouth. He kissed each of her fingertips, warming her from the inside out.

  “Can you stay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t want to be alone, but there was more to her question than that. Now that things had shifted between them, she didn’t want him to go.

  He smiled, heat flashing in his gaze. “This is where I’m supposed to be.”

  15

  ASHLYNN PUSHED HER front door open, inviting Leandro into her space. Taking her hand and following her inside, a sense of something profound came over him. A sense that this was someplace sacred and he was damned lucky to be here. The scent of orange blossoms mixed with the smoke that still clung to their clothes teased his nostrils. He caught a glimpse of an overstuffed couch, soft blue walls, and a neatly kept white kitchen in the back of the open floor plan. But he couldn’t focus on any of that, because he was riding his adrenaline rush and his brain wouldn’t allow for any excess. There was only Ashlynn and the fact that they’d just cheated death. Together. She’d invited him in and was standing right in front of him. And maybe this meant that she was finally his.

  “Oh, good. It’s not a mess. I was afraid that Kayla hadn’t cleaned.” She gave him a sheepish smile.

  The unfamiliar name was another reminder of how little he knew about this woman. It probably should’ve set off warning bells, because he was falling for someone he knew almost nothing about, but it didn’t. It was exciting. She was exciting. And he couldn’t wait any longer to touch her the way he’d wanted to since waking up without her.

  He tugged her hand, pulling her into his arms. Much to his relief she settled against him, her palms roaming up his chest and around his shoulders so that her fingers could delve into his hair. One corner of her mouth went up in a shy smile, reminding him of how innocent she could seem sometimes. But she was also worldly and intelligent and so damn sexy, and the combination of them all had him tangled up inside.

  “I need to be inside you, minha linda.”

  Her cheeks flushed and her gaze latched on to his mouth as she nodded. “God, yes.”

  Groaning in the back of his throat, his hands slid down to cup handfuls of her ass. Heat coiled in his belly as his cock thickened, and he couldn’t get close enough to her. Just as eager for him, she rose up on her toes and covered her mouth with his. When she brushed his tongue with hers, something in him broke wide open. All the fear and adrenaline left over from the crash came together inside him, coalescing into a need so strong and intense that it pulsed with a life of its own. He needed Ashlynn like he needed air. Now. “I don’t want to waste another minute without you,” he whispered.

  She made a sexy sound and said, “Me neither.”

  He tugged her T-shirt out of her jeans until she took over, pulling it off over her head and tossing it away. Taking her mouth again, he pulled down the straps of her bra and his hand slid inside to palm her breast. He loved her curves and how she overflowed his palms, once again confirming his philosophy that there was never too much of a good thing.

  Her fingers found the buttons on his shirt, nearly tearing them off in her hurry to take it off of him. It still wasn’t fast enough, because he wanted nothing more than to feel her bare skin against his. He was forced to let go of her long enough to shrug out of his shirt, but as soon as it hit the floor he reached behind her and unclasped her bra. It fell away and he cupped her breasts, stroking her nipples with his thumbs. “Meu Deus . . . you’re gorgeous.”

  She was his, and Christ, that felt good. A primal urge to claim her moved through him. He’d never felt this way before. All of his hookups had been playful sex meant to scratch an itch. But this with Ashlynn was different. She was his and he belonged to her. It was simple and so fucking intoxicating he was practically drunk on it. He wanted to spend hours playing with her, learning what made her sigh and what made her scream, but later. Right now he needed to fuck her.

  She reached between them and fumbled with his belt buckle. Tugging it open, she tore at the button on his pants with one hand while her other went down to cup him through the fabric. “Fuck,” he groaned as she stroked him, and he lengthened and throbbed in her hand.

  Grabbing two handfuls of her ass, he lifted her up and she put her legs around his waist. Toeing off his shoes, he asked, “Where’s your bedroom?”

  “Upstairs,” she answered, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him.

  He fumbled his way to the stairs, too caught up in her to pay attention. She reached between them again, this time sliding her hand inside his boxer briefs to wrap her small hand around him and squeeze. He grunted and gritted his teeth against the nearly overwhelming wave of pleasure that pulsed through him.

  Fuck the bedroom. Dropping to his knees, he set her on the stairs and yanked at her
jeans. She pushed them, along with her panties, down over her hips and wiggled out of them, leaving her naked and gorgeous. Tossing them off the stairs, she pushed his pants and underwear down over his ass. Their mouths fused as she grabbed for him. He moaned and nearly saw stars when she squeezed. “So good,” he whispered against her lips. “But I need to be inside you. Are you ready?”

  She made a sound that meant yes and spread her legs wider, her hands grasping at his hips. But he wanted to make sure and reached between them to find her soaked. He rubbed circles around her clit, waiting until her hips rocked with him before moving down to push a finger inside her. Fuck, she was so tight. His cock jerked, but he didn’t want to hurt her, so he forced himself to wait. Gently, he worked a second finger into her. She arched into his touch and tightened around his fingers, riding them as he fucked her.

  “Hurry, Leandro, I can’t wait.” Her voice was raw, matching his own need.

  He gritted his teeth as he moved into the cradle of her hips. Slicking the head of his cock through her folds, he marveled at how wet she was. Her pussy was beautiful, pink and glistening with a trimmed strip of blond at the top. He notched the head against her opening and pushed forward just enough to start to ease into her. She moaned and tightened her hands on his hips. Her body clenched at him, wanting more. He pulled back but slid the head back in again, giving them that much as he established a short, teasing rhythm to get her body ready for him.

  She felt so damn good that he wanted to take her bare, to fuck her hard and deep, but wearing a condom was the one thing that had been drilled into him since he’d been twelve years old. Too much risk of collateral damage. Paternity suits. Marriage traps.

  Reluctantly he pulled back, arousal still buzzing through his veins as the fog lifted just enough for him to realize that his luggage was still somewhere in the middle of the fucking Mojave. Shit. No fucking condom! He never carried condoms in his wallet, not since he’d been a teenager too eager to plan for sex. Ashlynn looked puzzled, her eyes still bright and glazed with passion, probably wondering why he’d stopped.