Fighting for Flight

by JB Salsbury

  I groan at her calling me honey and kiss the frosting from her lips. She started doing that after the night at the cabin. I thought nothing could sound as good as my name from her lips. I was wrong. “You’re welcome, baby.”

  “Uncle Jonah,” Eric and Aiden call in unison from the pool. The six-year-old twin boys jumped in about an hour ago.

  I leave Raven to her show and walk to the pool’s edge. “What’s up, rug rats?”

  “Come swimming with us,” Aiden says before disappearing underwater.

  “Yeah, do that thing where you throw us across the pool to the deep end.” Eric spins in a circle, making speedboat sounds.

  “Boys, your uncle can’t swim tonight. He has guests to entertain,” my sister calls, walking toward me.

  “Your mom’s right, guys. But I promise I’ll swim with you all day tomorrow. Deal?”

  “Deal,” they answer before swimming off to the other side of the pool.

  Beth leans into my side and I throw my arm around her shoulder.

  “I’m really happy for you, big brother. I gotta say I never thought you’d settle down.”

  I laugh and give her a squeeze. “You’re not the only one.”

  “She’s really special, Joey. I’ve only known her for two days and I’m in love with her.”

  “She has that effect on people.” I kiss her head. “I’m glad you guys are here. I know it was short notice.”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for anything.” She sips her drink. “I will say it was a rather short engagement.”

  I nod. “When God hands you a gift, you don’t push it away and tell him ‘later’.”

  She smiles up at me. “Dad would be proud of you. You’ve grown into an amazing man. Just like him.”

  Emotion burns my eyes. I swallow hard, absorbing the weight of her words and let the silence speak for me.

  “I’m going to go find my husband and make him dance with me.” She breaks the silence, and with a quick hug, she walks away.

  I turn back to watching my girl from a distance. She laughs in the center of a bunch of muscle-head fighters, as if she was born to be there. I’d like to think she was.

  My heart swells with pride. There’s just a shadow left of the shy auto mechanic that walked into my house with her head down. This courageous woman confronted her life head-on. Faced her demons. And won.

  And she’s not hoarding that strength, but choosing to share it with others. Giving them a chance to beat back the circumstances of their lives and bend it to their will. I’ve never seen that kind of beauty. Until now. And she’s wearing my ring.

  ~*~

  Raven

  It’s late. I don’t know what time it is. I’m swaying on an empty dance floor with my husband. Our guests are long gone, leaving us alone at last. Jonah’s strong arms and broad chest cradle me to him. Content and relaxed, I replay the day in my head.

  My mom helping me into my dress, wrapping me in her arms, telling me she loves me. It’s as if Dominick’s death cut some invisible tie that held her back, and now she’s able to love freely, without restraint or fear of loss. To love me the way she’s always wanted to. Or possibly to show the love she’s always felt.

  Guy walking me down the aisle. His snort and eye roll when he saw the flamboyant impersonator, only to get tears in his eyes when he gave my hand to Jonah.

  And my Jonah. The intensity of his stare as he said his vows. As if hearing the words weren’t enough, he wanted me to feel them.

  Our first kiss as husband and wife, his hands traveling down my body to cup my bottom in front of everyone. Okay, that was a little embarrassing—hot—but embarrassing. My body didn’t hate it. That was obvious when I had to hold onto Jonah as I waited for my legs to start working again.

  It was perfect. Every single second.

  Jonah’s sister and mom have been staying here with us, but they insisted on getting hotel rooms for the night. We had the option of getting the hotel room, but decided we’d rather spend our first married night at Jonah’s house—our house.

  So here we are, alone beneath the stars, locked in each other’s arms. Jonah’s heart beats against my ear. We stop and kiss then go back to the gentle sway. Time stands still.

  “Baby?”

  “Mm-hmm?” I swallow a yawn.

  “I’m ready to take you to bed now.” He stops moving as if to punctuate his words with a stop-dancing-and-get-your-ass-in-our-bed exclamation point.

  My pulse quickens and excitement wakens my body. I stop swaying and look up at him. His eyelids are dropped low with want. I inwardly smile at my effect on him. I lock my hands behind his neck and push up on my tiptoes while pulling his mouth to mine.

  Electricity hums between us as our lips connect. Sparks explode beneath my skin with every touch. Ever since the cabin, everything between us is more intense, like we’re sucking every second out of life as we feast on each other’s bodies.

  His hand slides up from my waist, over my ribs, and stops just beside my breast. I moan and arch my back in an attempt to get him closer, but his hand stays put.

  With long, deep pulls, I suck his tongue into my mouth. His answering groan tells me he’s at the edge of his restraint.

  He dips down, scooping me into his arms and heads for the house, never breaking the kiss. The spice of his cologne, all masculine and sensual, liquefies my need. My fingers sift and grab at his silky hair, pulling him down.

  Two steps into the house, he stops and lays me on the couch.

  “Can’t wait.” His husky voice vibrates against the tender skin of my neck.

  I toe my shoes off just before he pushes the skirt of my dress up to my waist. A groan rumbles in his chest as he takes in what I’m wearing beneath my wedding gown. I prop up to my elbows, enjoying the view of Jonah on his knees studying my bridal lingerie.

  “Do you want to see the rest?” My voice is deep and dripping with desire.

  He caresses my legs, every swipe of his callused hands sending heat straight between them. “There’s more?”

  With a teasing kiss, I stand. Giving him my back, I unzip, and slowly peel the fabric from my body.

  A hiss slips from between his teeth as my dress drops to the floor. He likes it.

  I peek over my shoulder to see him sitting, his eyes fixed on my bottom.

  He stands up and steps into my space, so close I can feel his heat against my skin. “Turn around.”

  I do just that, but step back, out of his reach.

  With a slow sweep of his gaze, I’m trembling.

  His eyelids drop low and a predatory glint flashes across his eyes. “Come here, Mrs. Slade.”

  My legs burn to obey his every command. But I withhold. “Uh-uh. You’re going to have to come and get me.”

  His eyes lock on mine, fire burning behind their hazel depths. He tilts his head to the side, eyebrows raised. Yeah, he likes the challenge.

  “You want to be chased.” He steps toward me.

  I step back.

  Like a shot, he moves, swiping at me with his powerful arm. Anticipating his move, I wheel around and dash toward the hallway. Excited giggles bubble up from my chest, flying out on a squeal. I make it to the hallway entrance before his strong arms wrap around me from behind.

  “Gotcha.” The word is spoken at my ear.

  I moan in response. He carries me the few short steps to our bedroom door. He releases me, and I flip around. His eyes are dark and hungry. My stomach flips and drops low.

  He advances on me, and with every step forward, I take one back. My legs hit the bed. He closes in. I roll my lips, eager for his contact. He traces the top of my white corset with a barely-there touch. My breasts push against the lace, overflowing at the top. He trails his fingers down the center of each breast where the dark-skinned tips show through the delicate fabric. He circles them with slow, agonizing motions.

  I part my lips to accommodate my quickened breath. He cups my breasts, finally giving them the attention they so desperately
need. Bending down, he sucks my nipple into his mouth, a torturous ecstasy that drops my head back with a moan.

  “Jonah.” The urgent plea falls from my lips.

  His hands move down the ribbing of my corset to my hips. He slides his fingers beneath the barely there fabric of my g-string. My body warms as he loves me with his touch.

  Feather-light kisses cover my neck as he slides his hand into my panties. A moan catches in my throat. My legs wobble.

  “Lie down, baby.” His words are spoken against my skin, my body obeying his command. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him as his fingers push me to the edge of my control.

  I lie on the bed. He pulls my panties down to my knees, but doesn’t take them off. They’re stretched taut between my bent legs, keeping them from falling wide open.

  He works between my legs, my body bending to his every whim. I need more. I pop my breasts from their lacey restraint and arch my back, offering them up to him.

  His eyes lift and widen. “Greedy little wife.”

  I roll my hips against his hand, affirming his words.

  His mouth locks around my nipple. Blood races through my body, muscles clenching in euphoric satisfaction as I cry out my release. Weak with satiated bliss, my legs strain to fall apart. He continues to nip at my breasts.

  I grab at his shirt, pulling at the buttons.

  “You first.” He rolls me to my side and unlaces the crisscross ribbon at my back, removing my corset. I kick off my panties, and he pulls his white dress shirt from his body.

  I suck in a breath as my eyes take in the circular scar at his shoulder. The evidence of his heroism. His bravery worn like a badge, forever imprinted on his skin, like his tattoos. A smile tugs at my lips as I study his newest. Right over his heart, my name in script with beautiful black wings extending from either side.

  “I love you, Jonah.”

  He doesn’t answer with words, but instead kneels between my legs. My knees fall open wide. He moves over me and lies in the cradle of my legs, the fabric of his dress pants rubbing against my bare flesh.

  He braces his weight above me with his muscled arms. “I want you off the pill, baby.”

  “Huh?” I’m not sure what my face looks like, but it feels as if it’s gaping.

  “I know it’s soon. But, since when do we do things on a timeline? I want to start our family.” He kisses my neck then bites me gently. “What do you say?” His mouth continues its torment.

  “Mmm.”

  “That a yes or a no, baby?”

  A real family. One that we make together. “I’m ready.” I flex my hips.

  With shining eyes and his two glorious dimples, he gives me a smile that nearly stops my heart. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Without another word, he releases himself from his pants and in one thrust, buries himself completely. I lock my legs around his hips, our chests pressed together so tight I can feel his heart beat against mine. His hands cup my face and I place my hand on his jaw.

  He moves, slow and beautiful, loving me in a gentle rhythm that brings tears to my eyes. His gaze locks on mine, and the affection pouring between us threatens to overwhelm me.

  I watch the pleasure build. His perfect white teeth dig into his lower lip. His eyes fight to stay open against the mounting frenzy. Pleasure coils deep my belly. I arch my back and dig my feet into the mattress.

  I don’t want it to be over too soon. I lock down his hips with my heels.

  He stops and takes a deep breath. “No need to hold back, baby. We have forever.”

  Forever. The word echoes in my head and I release him to move.

  I’m free. Free to live happily with Jonah. No more threats to our future. Free to fly.

  His pace quickens, and his muscles tighten with each stroke. I lift my hips, searching for more, deeper, harder. Passion, trust, and love spiral together until it explodes from my body, and I cry out his name. He groans into my neck, biting down on my shoulder and his pace intensifies. With one last thrust, his body relaxes onto mine.

  Our chests heave in unison, the soft moans from the aftermath of our love-making fill the room.

  He slides in and out in lazy strokes. “Sorry our first time as husband and wife was . . . um . . . fast. I blame the dress. And the stuff you had on under it.”

  I run my hands through his hair, forcing him to look at me. His shy smile makes him look younger and almost embarrassed. “We have forever, remember?”

  He closes his eyes and leans into my touch. “Yeah.” His eyes flutter open and he turns to look over his shoulder.

  “What?” I lean to the side and look down our joined bodies to the end of the bed. “I guess someone’s feeling left out.”

  Dog is curled up in a ball at Jonah’s feet. He gives us a sleepy meow.

  Jonah turns back, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you talked me into bringing that thing home.”

  “Jonah. He’s my responsibility. I couldn’t just leave him to fend for himself like some kind of—”

  “Alley cat?”

  “Ugh. You know what I mean.” I give Jonah a playful shove and he rolls off and to my side. His fingers draw invisible patterns on my stomach. “I’d be sick if I moved away and no one was there to take care of him. Everyone needs someone.”

  “I never thought I’d have anything in common with a mangy cat.” His lips curl at the edges. “We both need you.” He moves from my stomach to my forehead to trace my scar. His smile falls. “I almost lost you.”

  “No, never. I would’ve fought. However long it took. I’d never give up until I was free. You’re my life, Jonah. My family, my love, my best friend. Nothing, not even destiny, could keep me from you.”

  He leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. “Okay.”

  ~The End~

  A Note to my Readers

  I hope you enjoyed Fighting for Flight. Please take a moment to leave a review on Smashwords.

  The next book in this series will be Fighting to Forgive.

  Fast and hard, just the way he likes it. Blake Daniels flies through life the way he burns through women: on his terms, no regrets.

  His fighting career in full swing, he has no need for attachments. He knows what he wants, but when a haunting secret from his past threatens his future, he teeters on the edge of sanity.

  She’s through with men. After the fifteen-year marriage that never should have happened, Layla Moorehead moves on to start a new life—one that focuses on making amends for the irreparable damage she’s caused her sixteen-year old daughter.

  Saddled with shadows from their past, their lives come crashing together in a violent mix of passion and betrayal.

  Is love enough to overcome history?

  Or will they be left Fighting to Forgive?

  Acknowledgements

  There are so many people to thank, make sure to look for your name. It’s probably on here.

  To my husband and my girls, thank you for allowing me the time to write this book with minimal complaints and guilt trips. You guys are my world. I love you.

  To my mom, Gale West, your love and support gave me the confidence to give writing a try. Thank you for believing in me.

  To Evelyn Johnson, thank you for listening over a glass of wine as I first voiced my idea. Your excitement for the story gave it wings. Your companionship while doing my research in Vegas was invaluable. I’ll be forever grateful for your encouragement.

  Thank you to my family and friends for believing in me. You know who you are.

  To the amazingly talented Elizabeth Reyes, thank you for taking time out for newbie writer and pointing me in the right direction. You have a forever-fan in me.

  To Jenny Aspinall, and Gitte Doherty. Thank you for championing my idea to write a MMA romance.

  Thank you to Chris Letts who never stopped encouraging me from start to finish.

  To my friend and Las Vegas connection, LeAnne Zinke, thanks for the inside scoop.

  To all
my amazing critique partners, Jacki P, Travis Casey, Hijo, Carroll “Sully” Sullivan, and Kaci Persnell, each one of you contributed something different and invaluable to this story. You guys kick serious ass.

  Thank you to my amazing critique partners and betas, Claudia Handel and Nicola Layouni. You girls rock.

  To my gorgeous Sister Wives of Writing, thank you for all the times we stayed up late messaging about anything and everything, I’ll be forever grateful.

  To Cristin “C-Spice” Harber, thank you for never saying no when I needed a riding partner on the Pity Train. Your steadfast attitude, constant encouragement, and faithful friendship kept me sane. You’ve taught me so much about writing, and I’m honored to have a front row seat as the world of publishing opens its doors to your talent.

  Sharon “Shexy” Cermak, my Sister from Another Mister, from prologue to epilogue, you’ve been a guiding force. I’m forever indebted to you for your commitment and support.

  To Amanda Simpson at Pixel Mischief, thank you for book. You have an amazing gift.

  A huge thank you to Theresa Wegand for her superhuman editing skills—thank you for saving me from looking like a complete idiot. Your keen eye and attention to detail is exceptional.

  And finally, to you, my readers, thank you for giving me a shot at storytelling. It truly is a pleasure unparalleled. I hope you come back for more.

  --JB

  About the Author

  JB Salsbury lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her husband and two kids. She spends the majority of her day as a domestic engineer. But while she works through her daily chores, a world of battling alphas, budding romance, and impossible obstacles claws away at her subconscious, begging to be released to the page.

  Her love of good storytelling led her to earn a degree in Media Communications. With her journalistic background, writing has always been at the forefront, and her love of romance prompted her to sink her free time into novel writing.

  Fighting for Flight is her first novel in the MMA romance series.

  For more information on the series or just to say hello, visit JB on Facebook or Goodreads.