by Zoe Chant
But it was hers.
Her Spitfire.
Her mother's plane.
“I know it looks a mess,” Chase said anxiously, as she drifted dreamlike toward the Spitfire. “But John spent ages searching the sea floor, and he swears on the honor of his people that he found all the parts. I've dried everything out and cleaned it as best I could, but I don't know how to fix it myself and I didn't trust anyone else to work on it without your approval. I promise, we'll get her restored, no matter what. You can have whatever you need to repair it, or I could hire specialists, or, or… Connie?”
Gently, as if the Spitfire might bolt away like a startled deer if she moved too fast, Connie laid her hand flat on the plane's battered surface.
“Hello again, baby,” she whispered.
Chase let out his breath in a long sigh of relief. “So she's okay?”
“She's perfect.” Connie stroked the plane, blinking back tears at being able to touch it again. “It'll take some time, but I'll make her good as new. It'll be like… it'll be like working with my mother. Fixing the same things that she fixed, all those years ago.”
He came up behind her, softly resting his hands on her shoulders. “I think she would have liked that. She'd be very proud of you.” A slightly pained note crept into his voice. “I'd say she'd be even prouder than your dad is, but I'm not sure that's humanly possible.”
Connie giggled, leaning back against his broad chest. “So I guess he must have subjected you to the story of how I won the Rydon Cup in a borrowed rustbucket, while flying backward and upside-down.”
“Twice. I did try to remind him that I was actually there, but he kept talking anyway.” Chase sounded aggrieved. “I wish I could tell him what really happened. My version of the story is much better.”
“Serves you right, having to hold your tongue while someone else prattles on for once.” Connie bit her lip. “Um. While we're talking planes… I have a confession to make. About your Spitfire.”
“It's your Spitfire,” Chase said, without hesitation. “Your other Spitfire. I'm not letting you give it back.”
“Good, because I kind of can't.” Connie tilted her head to look up at him. “I traded it to my dad. He can race it, display it, sell it, whatever he wants… but it'll be on his own. I'm done bailing him out now. I love him, but I can't go through anything like this again.”
“You won't,” Chase said fiercely, his arms tightening around her. “I promise. I'm glad you're spreading your own wings at last. Your dad has to learn to fly on his own, too.”
“Speaking of dads.” Connie raised her eyebrows at him. “Did you talk to yours yet?”
“Yes.” She felt all his muscles tense. “With Killian in jail, Tiernach Enterprises is in chaos. My father needs to stabilize things as quickly as possible. He's got some potential replacements lined up, but he’d still prefer it if I took over as CFO.”
Connie put her hand over his, squeezing it. “Will you?”
He looked down at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Do you want me to?”
“I want you to be happy,” she said. Her thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of his hand. “And somehow I don't think sitting behind a desk all day would do that.”
He let out a brief, sharp laugh. “No.”
Chase fell silent for a long moment, his face shadowed. “He got me into firefighting, did I ever tell you that? Killian, I mean. After you left, all those years ago. I was determined to just blindly charge around the world searching for you, but he persuaded me to leave that to professional detectives. I needed something to keep me busy, so he told me about this all-shifter fire crew he'd heard about. He thought it might suit me.”
“He did know you very well,” Connie said, softly.
“And it does suit me,” Chase admitted. Gradually, the tension eased from his body, though he still looked subdued. “I like doing something real, that demands all my mind and strength and skill. I like being able to use my talents to help people. You don't mind if I stick with it? I mean, it's a dangerous job. I wouldn't want you to be constantly worrying about me.”
“Chase, I fly vintage WWII warplanes for a living,” Connie said, a touch acerbically. “Exactly which one of us should be worrying about the other, again?”
He laughed again, and Connie was pleased that it was his real laugh this time, warm and unrestrained. “You have a point, there.” He cocked his head to one side. “Hey. You said you traded your other Spitfire to your dad, but you didn't say what for. What did you get in return?”
Connie patted her Spitfire again. “The other half of this. When my mom died, her will left me and my dad both half-shares in her plane. I used your Spitfire to buy him out. She's all mine now.”
“And no one will ever be able to take her away from you again,” Chase finished for her, with great satisfaction.
“Well… that's not strictly true.” Connie turned in his arms, stepping back a little so that she could meet his eyes properly. “Because I'm giving half of her to you.”
Chase's mouth dropped open. “Connie—”
She put a finger on his lips, silencing him. “I know you don't need the money. But I don't want to start off our lives together in debt to you, either. So I'm going to insist on this. She's half yours, and half mine, and that's that.”
His face went very still, his eyes wide and dark as he looked into hers. “Our lives together?”
Connie stretched up on her toes to kiss him in answer. His mouth was light and gentle on hers, as if he hardly dared to breathe.
Then his hands came up to softly frame her face. His long, agile fingers caressed her as he deepened the kiss. The sweetness of it sang through Connie's body, until she felt as if his hands were the only thing stopping her from floating up, up into the sky.
“In that case,” Chase murmured into her lips, “I have a question for you.”
Even though she should really have been used to it by now, Connie's heart still skipped a beat as he went down on one knee.
“Constance West.” He took her hand. “Will you be my mate?”
Connie blinked down at him. “Okay, I have to admit, that's not what I was expecting. I thought I already was your mate?”
“You are. But we aren't mated. It's… different.” He looked like he was struggling to find words to explain it. “There's a sort of ritual that we do. Afterwards, we'd be true, bonded mates.”
“Like Virginia and Dai?” Connie asked. She remembered the deep, powerful connection between the dragon shifter and his mate, so strong it was almost visible.
Chase nodded. “We'd be able to talk telepathically, like I do with other mythic shifters. We'd know what each other is feeling, share our deepest desires and needs. We'd be truly joined. Forever.”
Connie's breath caught. “Oh, yes. Yes. Let's do it.”
She could so clearly see Chase's joy shining in his eyes, it was like their souls were already joined. “Now?”
Connie laughed, feeling wonderfully wild and reckless. “Yes, now! Can we? What do we do?”
“There are a couple of steps, to bring us closer together.” Chase stood, taking both her hands in his. “First, we fly back to my nest.”
“I assume that's not flying in a plane.” Connie's pulse sped up at the prospect of riding the pegasus again—partly with excitement, but also with nervousness.
She'd never learned how to ride. As a kid, when most of her friends had been horse-mad, she'd been wallpapering her bedroom with posters of vintage warplanes.
Chase won't let me fall.
“What happens after we get back to your place?” she asked him.
A slow, wicked grin spread across Chase's face, kindling an answering heat low in Connie's belly. “To find that out, you'll have to ride me there.”
Rising, Chase retreated a few steps. His tall, strong form shimmered. Between one blink and the next, the black pegasus stood before her.
All the breath whooshed out of Connie's lungs. She hadn't had
the chance to see him properly like this before. The elegant arch of his strong neck would have put the finest Arabian stallion to shame. But while he had the graceful, lean build of a thoroughbred racehorse, his back was higher than the top of her head. He was the biggest horse she'd ever seen.
Awestruck, she circled him. He stayed still to let her look at him, though his alert ears swiveled to follow her. The lights struck gleaming purple and blue highlights from his folded wings. His sleek black coat held the same iridescence, but subtler. He gleamed as if carved from black opal.
He knelt, stretching out one wing. Heart thudding, Connie scrambled up onto his back. She had to hike up her dress a little to straddle him, his hide warm and soft against her bare thighs. He stayed steady as she tucked her legs under his folded wings.
“Okay,” she said, when she felt as secure as she was going to get. Tentatively, she squeezed his sides a little with her legs. “I'm ready.”
Chase took a single delicate step forward, and stopped.
“I said I'm ready.” She nudged him again, a little harder. “Let's go!”
Chase curved his neck to look back at her, the deep black eye wide and innocent. Then he began to amble toward the door at a pace so sedate, he could have been overtaken by a tortoise.
Connie rolled her own eyes at him. “Don't think I don't know what you're up to. But, if you insist…”
She kicked him hard in the ribs with her heels, like a cowboy in a movie. “Heigh-ho, Silver! Giddy-up!”
Chase snorted with equine laughter. She instinctively grabbed at his silky mane as his huge muscles bunched under his velvet-soft fur.
Then, he ran.
Connie shrieked, flinging herself flat against his neck as he went from a standing start to a flat-out gallop in barely a heartbeat. The instant they were clear of the hanger, his wings spread, each reaching primary feathers as long as Connie's entire arm. He leaped, his wings sweeping down as his back hooves left the ground.
It was nothing like flying in a plane. The wind roared all around her, whipping Chase's long black mane into her face as he soared upward. The ground fell away with dizzying speed. Connie clung to him for dear life, her arms wrapped around his neck so tight she worried she might throttle him.
Yet for all his terrifying speed and the lack of any sort of safety harness, he bore her up as smoothly as her own plane. She could feel the constant movement of his muscles, adjusting to match every tiny shift in her own body.
Gradually, Connie's hammering heart began to slow. She dared to sit up a little, squinting against the wind. Brighton spread out beneath them, sunset turning its old, stately buildings to gold. She'd never been able to look straight down while flying before. The whole world spread out at her feet, intricate and inviting.
She laughed out loud in sheer, surprised joy. Chase pranced on thin air, showing his pleasure in her delight.
Greatly daring, Connie let go of his mane. Chase stayed steady as a rock underneath her. Closing her eyes, she spread her arms wide. The wind streamed through her outstretched fingers.
For the first time in her life, she truly knew what it was to fly, like a bird, on her own two wings.
Chase tipped one wing down, banking. Connie shifted her weight, knowing from the subtle movements of his muscles under her bare thighs what he was going to do even before he started to spiral downward. She could see Chase's rooftop garden below them. Tiny, glimmering lights marked its edges, guiding them to the landing lawn.
Chase's hooves delicately touched down. He knelt again to allow her to dismount. She slid off his back, feeling a little regretful to feel ground under her feet again.
Laying her cheek against his gleaming hide, she hugged his neck hard. “That was amazing. Part of me wishes we could stay up in the sky forever.”
The pegasus's smooth, glossy fur dissolved under her hands—and became warm, human skin. Chase's arms slid round her. “Then I'd better make it worth your while to come down.”
Connie gasped, feeling his massive erection pressing against her soft stomach as he pulled her close. His eyes were dark pools of desire. Despite his clear need, he kissed her lightly. Connie closed her eyes, melting against him as he gently explored and tasted her mouth. His teasing tongue sent pleasure racing through her veins, and a surge of wetness between her thighs.
Hungry for more, she tried to deepen the kiss—but his hands closed over her shoulders, holding her back. “Slowly,” he said, hoarsely. “This time, we take things slowly. I want to learn every inch of you.”
Connie slid her hands over his chest, feeling the hardness of his muscles under the soft cotton shirt. She let her fingers drift lower, popping open the button of his jeans. “Do I get to do the same to you?”
Chase caught his breath as she lightly traced the bulge of his straining cock. “Yes. Oh, God yes.” He caught her wrist. “Though maybe you shouldn't start there.”
Backing off a little, he pulled his shirt over his head. Connie's breath sighed out of her. The fading sunset highlighted the beautiful planes of his torso, every muscle sharp and defined. Framed by lush rosebushes edging the garden, he looked like some classical statue brought to life.
Taking her hands in his, he lay her palms flat against his shoulders, wordlessly inviting her to explore. She slid her hands over his warm skin, hardly able to believe that this Greek god of a man could really be hers.
His chest rose sharply as she brushed over his hard nipples. Somehow, she could sense the shock of pleasure that went through him, as if it was echoed in her own body. She could feel how his skin sang to her every touch, how the light scratch of her nails made his desire rise, hot and urgent.
Wanting to see all of him, she pushed his jeans and underwear down over his lean hips. He clenched his fists, his abs knotting as she knelt to pull the rest of his clothes off. She could feel how hard it was for him to hold back, how badly he wanted to touch her.
His hard cock strained above her, thick and full. Even though she knew he wanted to take things slow, Connie couldn't resist tasting him, just a little. His breath exploded out of him as she ran her tongue up the thick shaft. He yanked her up, so hard and fast she nearly overbalanced.
“My turn now,” he said, a feral heat burning in his eyes.
As if unable to restrain himself any longer, his strong hands quickly undid the buttons at the front of her dress. He pushed the silky fabric off her shoulders, and Connie wriggled a little so that the dress fell to pool at her feet.
“So beautiful.” Chase's hand trembled as he traced the curves of her shoulder, sliding her bra strap off. “My beautiful mate. Let me see you. Let me worship you.”
His touch left trails of fire on her skin as he slid her bra off. His light, teasing fingers skimmed her curves, moving down to hook under her panties. Slowly, still looking up at her, Chase knelt, pulling her panties down as he did so. His touch on her thighs was exquisite torture, leaving her breathless with desire for more.
“Connie,” Chase growled, a rough catch in his voice betraying his own desire. He pulled her down, catching her in his arms and laying her back on the soft grass. His hands slid up her legs, spreading them wide so that he could kneel between them. “My mate.”
Totally exposed before his hungry gaze, the gentle breeze caressing her bare skin, Connie had never felt more beautiful. He looked at her as if she was a miracle, a goddess, everything he could ever want.
Chase dipped his head, planting a trail of kisses up her sensitive inner thigh. Connie moaned, winding her fingers into his hair, trying to urge him on faster. Yet still he held back, taking his time, making her quiver with frustrated lust as he slowly, so slowly worked his way upward.
When his tongue finally traced her wet folds, Connie's hips jerked upward at the electric shock of it. Spreading her wide with his fingers, he licked her firmly, every touch making her writhe and sob with helpless pleasure. That growing connection between them showed him exactly how to circle her, exactly what she needed to reach
her peak. She arched up as orgasm rushed over her.
Please, please, more, now!
“Yes,” Chase gasped.
Drawing back, he flipped her over. His strong hands on her hips urged her onto her knees, pulling her up against him. His torso pressed against her back as he effortlessly lifted her to exactly the position he wanted. Anticipation sang through Connie's body as his hard cock rubbed against her eager entrance, her juices slicking the swollen head. She'd never felt so ready, so desperate.
With a single hard thrust, he sank fully into her. It was as if he sank into her mind, her very soul, at the same time. His love for her enfolded her even as her body enfolded his. She cried out, lost to everything, everything except him. She matched him thrust for thrust, spiraling up into ecstasy in perfect union.
*My mate!*
He bit down on the base of her neck as he thrust one last time. The edge of pain made an exquisite counterpoint to her ecstasy, sweeping her over the edge. His fierce satisfaction at marking her filled her, as much as his hot seed did.
She was his now, as he was hers.
Forever.
They collapsed down onto the grass together, breathing as hard as if they'd just run a marathon. Connie felt deliciously exhausted, undone in every muscle.
She snuggled back into Chase, intertwining her fingers through his. “So… are we mated now?”
*Oh yes.* His voice sounded not in her ears, but inside her head. Connie twitched in surprise, and Chase laughed. *Very, very thoroughly mated.*
*Good,* she thought at him, and knew that he'd heard her from the jolt of pleased surprise that he sent back. She wriggled round in his arms to face him. *In that case, I have a question for you.*
*Oh?* Chase smiled at her, his love enfolding her like strong wings.
She could feel his complete happiness, his awestruck delight that she had chosen him. She could sense his bone-deep determination to be worthy of her.
*Chase Tiernach.* Connie looked deep into his warm black eyes. *Will you marry me?*