by Karen Foley
He dropped his head to her shoulder, and Sedona hugged him to her. Their breathing was ragged and she could feel the heavy, uneven thumping of his heart against her chest. She wanted to hold on to this moment forever—bottle it up and savor it.
He turned his face and pressed a kiss against her neck, just at the juncture of her jaw. His breath, warm and sweet, washed over her.
“That was…amazing, mina.” Carefully, he withdrew from her and discarded the condom, before rolling to his side, pulling her with him and tucking her back against his chest. He dipped his head and bit her shoulder gently before soothing the area with his lips and tongue, causing shivers of sensation to chase across her skin.
Sedona turned just enough so she could angle her head and look at him. His eyes were so dark she couldn’t distinguish the pupil from the iris, and one dimple flirted with her as he gave her a lazy, tender smile. He stroked the damp hair back from her face before dropping a kiss onto her lips.
“I think I was wrong, you know,” he murmured, pulling her tighter against the hard warmth of his body.
“How so?” God, he was so incredibly yummy. She wanted to look at him endlessly.
“I said there was no difference between flying and sex.” His eyes held hers, dark and unfathomable. “But you know what? It’s entirely possible that this is better than flying. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s my new favorite thing to do.”
Sedona stared at him, stunned. Sex with her was better than streaking through the skies at six hundred miles an hour? Her pulse accelerated until she was certain she was going to die from sheer joy. For her, having sex with Angel Torres was the culmination of a dream come true. But to hear him say that sex with her was more intense, more thrilling, more pleasurable than being in the cockpit of his fighter jet was…well, it was pretty freaking unbelievable.
She didn’t protest when he wrapped his muscular arms around her and flung a hard leg over hers, effectively trapping her within the circle of his body. He’d said being with her was better than flying.
For now, at any rate.
Even as his arms tightened around her and he pressed a drowsy kiss against her neck, she wondered how long the joyride would last. Because as a pragmatic engineer, she knew eventually—inevitably—even fighter pilots had to come back down to earth.
9
“GODDAMN. IS THAT guy for real?”
The words were barely more than a wondering whisper, but Sedona looked up from the documents she’d been staring blindly at to follow the other woman’s gaze across the room. Angel leaned against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest. The large conference room was filled with members of the inspection team, both civilian and military, as they received the obligatory briefing.
Lieutenant Brian Palmer, the commanding officer responsible for maintaining the fleet of Coyotes, provided a slightly nasal report of the five aviation mishaps, and their own subsequent role in examining the grounded jets. He was a good-looking man in his early thirties, with thinning brown hair and sharp gray eyes that missed nothing. He’d introduced himself to Sedona as soon as she’d entered the conference room, promising full cooperation with her team.
Sedona narrowed her eyes at the maintenance technician sitting beside her. She was pretty enough, if you liked toned, muscular women who exuded raw, physical energy. The kind of woman who could no doubt spend an entire night screwing a guy blind and still wake up in the morning looking gorgeous, and ready for more.
Unlike Sedona, who was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and deliciously tender in places she’d never before imagined.
Just the memory of the previous night brought a lazy smile to her lips. She and Angel had showered together—she remembered the sensual image he’d made as he stood under the sluicing water with his hands behind his head. She’d soaped him with her bare hands—which had led to another heart-pounding interlude of erotic delights.
Later, they’d curled up in bed and flipped through the television channels until she’d made a naughty suggestion to order an adult movie. His eyes had widened in surprise, but he’d laughed and done it. In less than ten minutes, their own moans and sighs had drowned out those of the actors.
It had been nearly 4:00 a.m. when he’d finally escorted her back through the connecting doors and helped her crawl into her own bed, where she’d fallen blissfully asleep—for a whole two hours. She looked as bleary-eyed and worn-out as she felt.
She eyed the wholesome blonde technician with growing dislike. The woman could have been an Olympic contender for the Swedish bust-building team with her supple body and thrusting breasts.
“Hmm…he’s a pilot, too,” the technician continued in a conspiratorial whisper, unaware of the daggers Sedona was throwing her way. “I hope to God I’m assigned to oversee the maintenance on his jet.” She grinned. “It would be a pleasure to give him a lube job.”
Shocked, Sedona blinked at her, then scowled and shifted her attention back to Angel. The connecting doors between their rooms had been closed when her alarm had finally gone off, and she hadn’t seen him until she’d arrived in the briefing room of Hangar 29. But he’d only given her a benignly polite smile of greeting and continued his discussion with the inspection team’s commanding officer, Captain Dawson, a severe-looking man several years Angel’s senior.
Disgruntled, she’d taken a seat and tried to pretend his apparent disinterest didn’t bother her. It was necessary, she knew, to maintain a professional appearance while they conducted their inspections. Still, she’d half expected to see their connecting doors open when she woke up that morning. Had hoped they might share a cup of coffee or several words at the very least, before they were required to don their mantels of indifference. She couldn’t quite subdue her hurt feelings.
She sneaked another look at Angel. Somebody had dimmed the lights in the conference room to better view the overhead slides, but even in the indistinct light, she could see he was looking at her.
Watching her.
She flushed and looked quickly away. But when several minutes passed, her attention was unwillingly drawn back to him. He still watched her and then he slowly dropped one eyelid in an audacious wink. A wink that told her he, too, was recalling what they’d shared last night. It was a wink meant only for her. She blushed, covered her quick smile behind her hand and forced herself to focus on her handouts.
The maintenance technician leaned over to her. “I’ve gotten his attention,” she whispered. “He just winked at me. Talk about hot. I’ll give him something that’ll fire his engines.” She nudged Sedona with enough force that she almost unseated her.
Sedona cast the woman one long, baleful look, but the blonde had already turned her attention back to Angel, practically drooling as she stared at him. Dimwit. What was it like to go through life with that kind of supreme confidence, certain every man who looked your way was instantly attracted to you? Sedona wanted to lean over and tell the other woman that Angel was taken and, oh, by the way, he hadn’t been winking at her.
Sedona was only distantly aware that Captain Dawson had stood up to speak. She barely heard him as he talked about the team’s responsibility to gather information, establish facts and find root causes. He emphasized teamwork, safety and confidentiality. Sedona had been through the drill before. While she understood the necessity for the brief, she found she was unable to pay close attention.
Thoughts of Angel consumed her, which was not good. There would be time enough for the two of them at the end of the day. Right now, she needed to pull herself together and focus on her job. The navy depended on her expertise to ensure the safety of their grounded jets, which meant now was not the time to let herself become completely distracted. She prided herself on her professionalism and skill. There was no way she would let anything interfere with that.
Her gaze slid back to Angel and lingered on his face as he listened to the captain. His flight suit emphasized his broad shoulders and lean hips, and Sedona wondered what he wore unde
rneath. Maybe those sexy boxer briefs he’d been so eager to get out of last night.
Slowly, she became aware that the conference room was silent and several people had turned to look expectantly at her. She dragged her thoughts back to the present and realized Captain Dawson was showing a slide that identified the various inspection teams. Her name was at the top of one of the teams, and he was staring at her as if waiting for her to say something.
“Um, sorry,” she mumbled, her face flaming. “I didn’t catch that. Could you repeat the question, please?”
“I asked if you could introduce the members of your team and tell the others precisely what inspection functions you’ll be performing.”
Captain Dawson’s face reminded Sedona of her father’s when she’d insisted she wanted to study fine arts rather than engineering.
Disapproving.
Contemptuous.
For a moment, she panicked and couldn’t find her voice. Her eyes flew to Angel. A slight frown furrowed his brow as he watched her.
She drew in a deep breath and quickly identified the other engineers who would be working alongside her. “My team will perform hot/cold section evaluation, as well as removal and inspection of engine system components, assessment of QEC kits and external engine components.” She refused to look over at Angel. “We’ll compare our findings to in-flight test data to identify anomalies or potential performance issues.”
“Thank you, Miss Stewart.” The commander’s voice was dismissive.
Sedona sagged in her seat as Captain Dawson resumed his briefing, but it took several more minutes for her heart to slow down. She’d been caught unaware, not paying attention to her mission here at Lemoore, and all because she’d been too busy mooning over Angel. She really needed to get a grip on herself.
It was nearly an hour later when they followed Lieutenant Palmer out of the room to conduct a quick tour of the enormous hangar where the inspections would be performed.
God, she loved being around the aircraft. She loved the vaulted space inside the hangars, where swallows roosted in the shadows of the high, steel rafters. The rolling hoists and lifts, the enormous, portable tool chests, the oil containers, and the various vats of lubricants all fascinated her. She’d never admit it to anyone, but she even enjoyed the rich, acrid smell of the J-5 jet fuel.
She drifted to the back of the group, calculating how many hours would be required to perform each inspection. There were eighty-two grounded jets that would not be cleared for flight until the inspection teams had completed their work. Realistically, Sedona’s team could examine two dozen engines in the two weeks they’d been allotted. This meant they would be required to extend their stay until they’d had an opportunity to inspect all the jets, or until the navy opted to bring in additional teams.
“Hey, you okay?”
Sedona looked up to see Angel fall into step beside her. She recalled her earlier lapse in the conference room and colored hotly.
“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He smiled then, a slow smile that said she didn’t fool him with her act of nonchalance. “You were daydreaming back there, mina.” His voice was so low she had to strain to hear his words. “About what? I wonder.”
Sedona refused to look at him. “Not what you’re so obviously thinking about,” she denied. “I was just going over some of the engine-calibration figures in my head and lost track of what was being discussed.”
“Uh-huh.” His tone said he didn’t believe a word. “Shall I tell you what I was thinking about?”
“No. Please…no.”
“I was thinking about you, mina. On top of me.”
“Oh.” She turned even redder as heady images of straddling him swamped her imagination. “How nice.”
“You bet.”
She refused to look at him. If she did, he might see how desperately she wanted him, and that wouldn’t do at all. She couldn’t think about that now.
“What’s nice?” piped a cheerful voice, and Sedona turned to see the maintenance technician from the conference room striding alongside them. She radiated vitality and sensual energy.
“Nothing,” Sedona mumbled.
“Actually,” Angel said smoothly, “I was just telling Miss Stewart how fortunate the navy is to have their jets in her capable hands. She comes highly recommended.”
“Oh.” There was no mistaking the surprise in the other woman’s eyes as she raked Sedona with an appraising stare. “Lucky us, I guess.” She thrust a hand out toward Angel. “I’m Petty Officer Heilmuller. You can call me Suzy.” She gave him a cheeky grin. “I come highly recommended, too.”
Yeah, for personal lube jobs.
Angel laughed, obviously amused by the other woman’s brassy impudence as much as Sedona was annoyed by it.
“I think you’d both better pay attention to Lieutenant Palmer,” Sedona said waspishly.
Anything to get Angel’s attention off the other woman. Had he noticed the bosomy fräulein was a dead ringer for the St. Pauli Girl beer icon? Sedona knew her own appearance paled in comparison to Petty Officer Heilmuller’s Germanic good looks.
Angel arched a brow, looking amused and seemingly undeterred by her caustic tone. “So this is where your team will be working,” he said.
They had entered a section of the hanger near the massive doors that opened directly onto the flight line. Two Coyotes had already been rolled inside the hangar. They stood roped off and ready for inspection.
Sedona was always thrilled by the sight of the sleek aircraft. Standing fifteen feet off the ground, each jet was fifty-six feet long and boasted a wingspan of nearly forty feet. No matter how many times Sedona inspected a Coyote, she couldn’t help but be impressed by the strength and beauty of the plane.
The rest of the inspection team had moved to the far side of the nearest jet. Lieutenant Palmer droned on about inspection protocol, about the importance of maintaining a clean work site and keeping unauthorized personnel from entering the space. She barely heard him. Nope, she was all about the aircraft. She just wished the brief and obligatory tour were over so they could get to work. She could hardly wait to get her hands on this baby’s engines.
Stepping close to the Coyote, she reached up and ran an admiring hand along the nose. The metal was cool and smooth beneath her fingers. She ducked under the wing and stepped to the rear of the jet to take a peek at the engine afterburners, though she knew their configuration by heart.
“She’s a beauty.” Angel followed her beneath the wing. He ran a practiced eye over the plane. “There’re a lot of frustrated pilots out there waiting for you to give the thumbs-up, Miss Stewart.”
Sedona rolled her eyes at him, despite his words causing her imagination to surge. “You’re speaking from experience, I presume?”
“What else?” He stepped closer to her, until she could smell the distinct fragrance of his soap and the underlying scent that was his alone. “I can attest to the fact that I am one frustrated pilot, mina.”
Sedona grew warm beneath his scrutiny. She pretended to be preoccupied with the long, smooth expanse of the wing, running her fingertip along its beveled edge. “I find that difficult to believe, Lieutenant Commander Torres, considering you completed several, ah, maneuvers just last night.”
“That’s true.” He took a step closer. “However, that was only the maiden voyage. As a test pilot conducting trials, I barely became acquainted with this new asset. I believe additional evaluation is required.”
Sedona’s breathing quickened at the implicit promise in his eyes and the sultry tone of his voice. She glanced under the belly of the Coyote and saw the inspection group begin to move away from the aircraft toward the open doors of the hangar.
“Additional evaluation?” she echoed faintly. “Just what kind of evaluation would that be?”
“Oh, most definitely a performance evaluation.” He grinned, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “You see, while I can provide assurance that all systems are operational
, and the handling qualities are superb, there is still some question as to how she’ll perform under…extreme conditions.”
Whew. Either it was getting hot inside the hangar, or she was starting to spike a fever. She pushed a stray tendril of hair from her damp forehead and moistened her lips, when all she really wanted to do was tear her clothes off and drag Angel to the concrete floor. She’d show him extreme. She might not be overly experienced, but she was nothing if not inventive.
“Extreme conditions,” she repeated, breathless. “As in…?”
“As in how high and fast can I push her?” His voice was low and husky, the faint Spanish accent more pronounced. “What kind of thrust can she tolerate without beginning to wobble, or shudder, or, worse, fly apart completely? How hot can her engines run before the inner liner of the combustor melts down?”
Sedona slid a finger inside the prim collar of her shirt, pulling it away from her skin. “Yes, I think I’m beginning to understand, Lieutenant Commander.” She swallowed hard. “But it sounds…dangerous. Are you certain you want to do this?”
He was so close, Sedona could see the individual spikes of his lashes and feel his warm breath against her cheek. He was too close. Too hot. Too completely irresistible.
“Oh, yes, mina,” he purred, “I’m absolutely certain. The only question remaining is…am I cleared to launch?”
She was a goner.
With a soft sigh of surrender, Sedona leaned forward, her lashes drifted closed and her lips parted for the inevitability of his kiss.
“Sir? Ma’am?”
Sedona’s eyes flew open and she leaped back from Angel. Unfocused, she turned abruptly away and then gave a sharp cry of pain as her head connected with the horizontal stabilizer, the small wings that protruded from the tail of the jet. Her eyes smarted with tears and she swiftly bent her head to hide her confusion. How was it that when Angel was near, she lost all ability to concentrate?
A young man peered at them from beneath the underbelly of the Coyote, and his blue eyes twinkled with unmistakable amusement. “Ah, sorry to interrupt, sir. Captain Dawson is asking for you.”