Wings of Gold Series

by Tappan, Tracy

  “Shush.” She placed a forefinger over his lips. “No more speaking that name. In fact—” She turned and swept the bills off the top of her dining room table with a flourish, sending envelopes jetting across the room. “Let’s chase those demons from our heads once and for all.” She hiked herself onto the table, scooted back, and spread her legs.

  Eric’s eyes smoldered. “My girlfriend for under one minute and you already rock.” He bent to his jeans first, digging a condom out of his wallet, then moved between her open thighs.

  She frowned at the square packet in his hand. “Do we really have to use one of those? I hate condoms.”

  He paused. Blinked. Then dipped his chin. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

  “We just agreed to be in a committed, monogamous relationship, right?” She leaned closer and kissed his chest just above the nipple.

  “Uh…”

  She smiled against his skin. Having trouble thinking, flyboy? She slanted a look at him. “I get my blood tested through the DEA every time I return from overseas. I’m clean. You?”

  “As a whistle. But, um…what about avoiding little Erics?”

  “I have an IUD.”

  That was it. Tossing the condom aside, he hauled her up against his chest and slammed his mouth over hers.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  They surged at each other like a crashing explosion of storms, lips crushed together, jaws working, tongues engaged in a fierce game of catch me if you can. Their hands scrambled over each other’s bodies, another wave of the squall sweeping over them.

  Nicole was breathing with more weight than she had been a moment before, the area between her thighs softened from a breathtaking flood of liquid desire. So much electricity…so much… She closed her knees against Eric’s hips, adjusting her body so that his engorged length was in direct contact with her core.

  He exhaled a low curse. “Damn, you feel…” His hands shuddered where they gripped her thighs. “I’m going to come in about two seconds without a rubber.” He pulled her forward onto his sex, and his hard-on sank in deep.

  She blew out a lungful of hot air.

  A wholly male sound came out of him, the noise sending a hedonistic thrill up her spine. How fantastic was it that she had the power to give this man so much pleasure?

  Eric started to pump, the supple muscles in his back flexing beneath her fingers. His nostrils flared and his eyes stained dark.

  A shameless groan slipped past her lips. The friction of his chest rubbing against her breasts made her nipples stand out, and her vaginal muscles throbbed from the relentless pounding of his shaft. The magical tension that was always between them twisted her insides. Dios mío. This was finally happening.

  Eric dropped his head to her shoulder and air rushed between his locked teeth as he seemed to lose himself in her. His body grew warm and heavy with possession, and the plunging of his hips, more wild, edged with ferocity.

  Excitement sped up Nicole’s heartbeat. She knew who this was. This was Dark Eric trying to emerge, the man she’d glimpsed in Carrera’s hacienda moments before the generator blew. But he was holding back. I am a rage machine, deep inside. I just don’t allow myself to turn it loose. Well, if he needed to exorcise that part of himself, to let loose and see that she could take it, she was ready to show him she could handle anything—maybe the only woman who could. “Don’t hold back,” she hissed into his ear. “I want all of you.” She dug her fingernails into his shoulders. “Come on!”

  A thunderous growl resonated in his chest. He heaved into a raw, mindless rhythm, seating himself so deeply inside her it was like an impaling.

  She gasped for air. Twin fists of ecstasy gripped her womb.

  His fingers flexed into her bottom to hold her in place as his hips slammed against her pelvis again and again, the root of him stroking exactly where it felt the best. Wham! Wham—! The dining table candlesticks were bonking together, one of the three toppling over.

  “Oh!” she shouted as the first ripples of an orgasm convulsed her sheath. She arched her spine and threw her head back, arms straight, fingertips contracted into his shoulder muscles. Another cry burst past her lips.

  “Are you okay?” he panted.

  She couldn’t answer. The stunning waves of a full-on orgasm were coursing through her sheath and pelvis, again and again. She torqued her body. “Yes!”

  With the single word, Eric detonated. Every muscle and sinew in his arms and across his shoulders stiffened, the cords in his neck going taut as cables.

  She lurched forward as he started to come and probed her tongue into his ear.

  A primeval shout roared past his lips.

  That’s a handy tool.

  He rocked against her once, twice more as he poured the last drops of himself inside her, his skin gleaming with sweat, his shout settling into a low moan, muffled against her throat.

  She sagged against his chest, dazed and delirious. “Eric,” she whispered. So much of her heart, in just his name.

  Time eddied, sluggishly rolling from one second of recuperation to the next. The world had substance—the solidness of the dining table beneath Nicole’s butt, the drone of a vacuum cleaner across the hall at Mrs. Danford’s, that lady a little OCD about her carpet—but in the abstract sense of who cares? Nicole had just experienced the most amazing orgasm of her life. And she was thoroughly and completely in love. Let the trash pile up and the clothes go unwashed…she didn’t want to miss one iota of this moment.

  Eric eased back a little, his chin low so that he could look into her eyes. “I won’t ask if you’re okay, since I don’t want to do your wilting flower femininity any favors.” But the question was in his eyes. Had he been too rough?

  She gave him a reassuring smile. “Sometimes a woman likes to be made love to, Eric, other times out-’n’-out fucked. Both are great.”

  He nodded slowly. “Well…” He gave her a cockeyed grin. “In case you were wondering, you were way worth the wait.”

  She laughed, then oohed as she felt herself flex around him.

  With a slow breath, he eased out of her, then swept her into his arms and headed toward her bedroom.

  “Hmm, thanks for the taxi service.” She kissed his shoulder. “My legs are feeling very weak.”

  He cut a pleased glance at her and half-smiled. “Boo-yah.” He climbed onto her mattress, one knee, then the other, scooted to the middle and set her down. “Okay, here’s the LZ story.” A teasing glint entered his eyes. “Now that you’ve earned it.”

  She threw her head back and whooped. “I’m going to kick your ass for that.”

  Chuckling, he laid down on his back next to her and tucked her against his side.

  She rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled against him. “I’m all ears.”

  “All right. So I was a baby lieutenant JG on my first long cruise in the Persian Gulf. This was about six years ago, and the situation was hairy in Afghanistan. A Marine was hit in the leg, and we got the call to do the medical evacuation. Combat rescue is usually the Black Hawks’ job, but all of those birds were flying cover on a Chinook46 doing a troop drop, so they radioed it in to us. I was the H2P flying, and a no-load by the name of Lieutenant Larder was the HAC.”

  “What do those acronyms mean?” Nicole asked.

  Eric toyed absently with her hair. “HAC stands for Helicopter Aircraft Commander. He’s the senior pilot on board, and ultimately in charge of the aircraft. H2P is Helicopter Second Pilot. But even though I was the peon, Larder was letting me fly, trying to give me a lot of stick time on that cruise.

  “I was really spooled up coming in, my first time flying into a hot zone. The reconnaissance point was in a small clearing of trees, and the wounded Marine and his buddies were hiding on the perimeter. We couldn’t see them or the insurgents nearby—although we damn well knew they were there. So I’m blasting in on final approach, adrenaline pounding, knowing I’m about to catch bullets at any moment, and Larder says, �
�Hey, O’Dwyer, is there enough room to land here?’” Eric snorted. “Larder should have said, ‘Wave-off, you idiot, there isn’t enough room to land here.’ But Larder couldn’t squawk, talk, and walk to save his dick, although hell if I knew it at the time.

  “I respond with all of my young cockiness at full throttle, ‘Yes, sir, there’s room. I got this,’ and I drop straight down into the middle of the clearing. All of a sudden we hear this buzz and crunch, and next thing you know, leaves, twigs, and branches are bulleting by the cockpit window.” Eric glanced at her. “There hadn’t been enough room, but I cut right through and made my own landing zone.”

  She waited a moment, then lifted her head. “That’s it?”

  “What do you mean that’s it? That’s why I’m called Landing Zone.”

  “Yeah, but you said pilots usually earn their call signs from something bad. That’s not so bad.”

  “The hell it wasn’t,” he returned. “I blew the tip caps47 off the ends of my blades. We vibrated like a son of a bitch the whole way home, and once we got back to the ship, the helicopter had to go through a sudden stoppage check, the whole drive train inspected. The aircraft was hard down for nearly three days in the middle of a lot going on in the Gulf. I cost the Navy forty thousand dollars’ worth of damage with that stunt. It wasn’t as bad as a full-on mishap, but the incident still isn’t anything a guy brags about.”

  She folded her palms over his chest and set her chin on top of her hands. “What happened to the wounded Marine?”

  “I got him. The guy lived.”

  She traced a finger over Eric’s lips. “Then you did good, LZ.”

  A glimmer of warmth danced through Eric’s gaze, then, like a droplet of green food coloring released in water, something more wickedly playful seeped in. He nipped at her finger.

  She flared her eyes at him, then eased her finger past his lips and touched his tongue. “You any good with this thing?”

  He chuckled deep in his throat, his cock awakening and stirring against her hip bone. “A guy is probably very good at a favorite pastime.”

  She made an O with her lips and fluttered her lashes.

  His laugh rang out.

  She rolled off him…and kept rolling until she was off the bed and on her feet.

  “Hey.” He leaned up on an elbow. “Weren’t we going to follow that train of thought?”

  “I went for a jog and then you came inside me. I’m not doing anything else until I’ve thoroughly showered.” She disappeared in the bathroom, then popped her head back out past the jamb. “You’re welcome to join me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Nicole’s shower wasn’t especially small, but Eric’s tall, wide form managed to make the space feel impossibly cramped. She was having trouble breathing again…though more from the feel of Eric’s broad hands, sleek and slippery with soapy suds, gliding all over her body. His touch smoothed from her waist around to her back, his fingers exploring the channel of her spine for a moment before sliding to her front. He stared avidly at his own hands roaming the slopes of her breasts.

  Her nipples hardened and poked through the suds.

  Eric’s thumbs swirled slippery soap around the points again and again, washing her with the utmost attention to detail.

  She exhaled in helpless pleasure, groaning. “I don’t think my breasts have ever been so clean.”

  A swift smile stole across his face, before being hidden from view as he bent to kiss the line of her collarbone, his fingertips now tormenting her nipples with playful tugs. His lips lingered on her old bullet wound. “No more of this now,” he murmured.

  Her heart rolled like salmon in a waterfall. Steam gusted around them, humid dewdrops darting down the glass of her shower stall.

  Eric’s lips skimmed up her throat. “Have I ever told you that you smell like a candy apple?” He nuzzled her.

  She set a palm on his nape. “How nice. Every woman wants to smell like Halloween.”

  “Hmm, no, it’s good.” He inhaled a deep breath. “Really good.”

  Now his lips were at her earlobe, feathering lightly over her flesh. “You do know that you’re going in the wrong direction, right?”

  His laughter exploded in a short burst against her skin. “Holy damn, but I love how eager you are for me to go down on you.” He wound a brawny forearm around her lower back and gave her a hard tug, forcing her to arch backward over his arm as he kissed a path down her body. Water pattered her breasts like heavy rainfall.

  She drew in a huge breath and slipped her fingertips into his wet hair. Heady anticipation tilted the earth on its side.

  His tongue pushed into her navel as the fingers of his other hand cruised lightly over the spare fleece of her mons and slid into her cleft.

  She nearly jumped at the contact. Heat and tension coiled up the length of her sheath.

  He traced the rim of her opening with a fingertip, tugging on it a little, and she felt another tight grab in her womb. She moaned.

  He pulled her upright, then dropped down onto his knees in front of her.

  “Wait,” she breathed, wriggling back. “If you do this right, I won’t be able to stay on my feet.”

  He looked up at her, water droplets clinging to his thick eyelashes. “Oh, I’ll do it right.”

  Her body quaked in response to his confidence, her pulse escalating to a wild rhythm. Had she actually had sex with this man under thirty minutes ago? She ached for him so much all over again. She scooted past him, aiming for the tiled shower bench.

  He pivoted on his heels, his gaze latched onto her sex the whole way.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll come this second.”

  “Shucks. That would be just awful.”

  She sat down on the tiled seat and spread her legs to him. No blushing schoolgirls in this shower.

  Eric prowled forward and curled his hands around the backs of her thighs, just behind the crook of each knee. He pulled her legs farther apart and hauled her forward a bit, making her scoot her bottom right to the edge of the seat and angle herself upward, putting her core directly in his line of sight.

  He stared, making an incoherent sound in his chest. “You mean when I look at you like this?” Draping her legs over his shoulders, he ran his thumbs up the sides of her labia and gently spread her, exposing her clitoris.

  Her heart trip-hammered. She flexed her toes as she watched him lean in.

  He kept his eyes open and pinned on her sex as he bent forward and kissed just the tip of her clitoris.

  A sob of pleasure shot up her throat as her bundle of nerves leapt.

  He treated the sensitive button to another kiss, open-mouthed, languidly drawing his lower lip over her clit, then ending with a soft nuzzle in her stripe of hair.

  The muscles in her thighs quivered. She gasped. “I’m going to come.”

  “Damn, woman, I just started.” Tucking his hands under her rump, he lifted her to his mouth and took another small, sweet taste of her, just a soft swipe of his tongue that nearly overwhelmed her with its tender reverence.

  She slouched back against the wall of the shower as her bones went liquid, her chin sinking down to her chest.

  He was still all careful gentleness as he drifted down to the entrance of her body. His tongue was a mere flicker against her opening, a tickle. She exhaled an erratic breath. A tease. A torture. “More,” she whispered.

  He proved himself to be a great boyfriend, too, because he immediately pressed his face against her, planting his mouth over her core. The drumming of water against Eric’s back turned to thunder in Nicole’s ears as he thoroughly devoured her, tonguing her wet folds, massaging her opening with the moist incursion of his tongue.

  A tense unh spilled out of her. Through weighted eyelids, she watched the rhythmic nodding of Eric’s dark head between her thighs as he picked up speed, then slowed, then went fast again, expertly reading the ebb and flow of the oncoming tide of her orgasm and playing to it. The sight
was sex itself. Her knees clenched and released on his shoulders. A heaviness tugged low in her belly. It ended in a sudden shock of white-hot lightning as Eric pursed soft lips around her clitoris and gently suckled her.

  She climaxed and yelped, arching, gasping.

  She watched him over the heaving mounds of her breasts as his tongue lapped her through another explosion. “Dios mío!” The room bent into shimmering waves before her vision. She flung a hand up to grab the towel rack on the wall above her. “Stop,” she panted. “I’m going to pass out.”

  His head came up. “Wilting flower,” he chided softly, then stood and scooped her limp body into his arms. Yanking the water off, he carried her to her bed and fell with her onto the mattress, wet flesh slipping against wet flesh. His hips found a snug fit between her thighs, and he entered her, a slow, tunneling glide into her body. Her next breath skidded to a stop. Each of his thrusts was impossibly deep, not a slam-in, but a steady, firm push that buried his hard length up to the furthest point inside her body and pressed his balls against her.

  Eric had fucked her before.

  Now he was making love to her.

  She clasped him to her, her arms tight around his back and her thighs clenched to his flanks. The remnants of her last two orgasms were still pulsing through her, making her sheath so hungry for his penetration that tingles were already shooting throughout her whole body.

  Eric bent his head and lightly closed his teeth around her nipple.

  Fire ate into the very marrow of her bones. She squeezed her vaginal muscles around him.

  He grunted. His mouth slid across her nipple. He huffed uneven breaths, his shoulders surging in and out of her line of sight.

  She hitched her hips up so that Eric’s lower abdomen bumped into her hyper-sensitive clitoris. She climaxed again, her sheath locking down on his shaft. She exhaled swiftly through her nostrils, her hips bucking beyond her control.