Fly With Me (Wild Aces #1)(21)

SEVEN




JORDAN

Noah hooked an arm around my waist, tucking me into the curve of his body, my cheek resting above his heart. His hand trailed down my side, lazily stroking my hip, squeezing my waist.

I resisted the urge to purr. Barely.

My eyelids fluttered, another yawn hitting me. It was late. Or early, depending on your perspective. We’d dozed on and off, our naps interrupted by intermittent, grade-A f*cking. I’d lost count of how many rounds we’d gone, orgasm after orgasm sliding together in a mindless blur. But while the sex had become a haze, the after, the postcoital cuddling, sharpened everything.

I didn’t know what I’d expected exactly, just that it hadn’t been this. He touched me the entire night—twisting my hair around his fingers, his hips against mine, a hand grazing my legs, waist, back, my face buried in the curve of his neck, his lips ghosting across my skin. His scent covered me.

The sex had been the best I’d ever had. The after was awe-inspiring.

You’re in Vegas. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

I repeated the words to myself over and over again, cloaking myself in them like a security blanket. I had no problem with no-strings-attached sex. Hell, sometimes I preferred it. But there were freaking strings everywhere I looked here.

Time to go.

I tipped my head up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“I should let you get some sleep.” I made my mouth twist into a smile, ignoring the weird pounding in my chest and the confusion in my mind. “Thanks for the orgasms.”

I moved out of his grasp, rolling over to my side. My legs reached out to hit the floor, already mentally preparing for the walk of shame, when suddenly I was on my back again, a large, aroused body on top of me.

Gah.

I stared up into Noah’s face, the satisfied, sleepy look in his eyes replaced by something a lot sharper that had a knot tightening in my stomach.

Definitely intense.

“So that’s it?” His voice scraped over me.

The knot got bigger.

I shrugged, trying to be the girl who didn’t make a big deal out of sex, the cool girl, the girl who wasn’t lying here feeling like there was nowhere else she wanted to be. His eyes got flinty and I figured I failed.

Noah pulled back, my body going cold. I watched, my mouth dry, as he walked naked from the bed—spectacular back and ass on display. He grabbed a pair of exercise shorts from his suitcase, tugging them up over his hips, those freaking indents teasing me again, and my resolve to be cool-girl sort of went out the window as I tried not to drool.

We stared off against each other, the bed-of-many-orgasms between us.

I grabbed the sheet, tucking it under my arms, covering my body, ready to flee at any moment. I could tell he was pissed, or on his way to pissed, at least, but I wasn’t sure how this would go. And I really didn’t know what I wanted when I got there.

I swallowed and dug deep.

“What else is there? It was good. Really good. But you have to get back to the base for work, right? And I should probably check in with my sister.”

Noah’s gaze narrowed, his tone silky. “Good?”

I rolled my eyes. I had a difficult enough time with the regular male prima donna attitude; my enthusiasm for fighter pilot prima donna attitude was pretty much nonexistent. It had been off-the-charts mind-blowing, and yeah, I was kind of being an * for ducking out—though legions of men had certainly done so before me—but that didn’t mean I was in the mood to inflate his ego.

“I saw stars.”

My tone might have dripped with sarcasm, but I’d have been lying if I didn’t admit that there was a kernel of truth to my words. And by the look that flared in his eyes, he definitely knew it.

His arms crossed over his chest, his stomach muscles rippling.

I was an idiot.

“You’re freaked.”

He didn’t bother posing it as a question; I figured the wide-eyed panic settling over my face said it all.

“I’m not freaked,” I sputtered.

So totally freaked.

His head snapped to the clock next to the bed. “So you normally flee hotel rooms at 4 a.m.?”

I sighed. He had me there. Time to give up.

“Look, I can appreciate that you aren’t one of those guys who’s a dick about a girl staying the night, but I’m also not the kind of girl who’s going to be a clinger. Tonight was amazing, but haven’t we sort of reached our natural conclusion here? Where’s it going to go?”

Where can it go?

“Where do you want it to go?” he returned, his tone even, his gaze impossible to read.

“I don’t know.”

That was the problem. I wasn’t trying to be difficult; I really was that confused. He didn’t fit into any box I’d come up with, and now I was coloring outside the lines, imagining all the possibilities of where this could go if I threw caution to the wind. And I was really good at throwing caution to the wind. Hence why it should be avoided at all costs.

“Do you want to know where I want this to go?” Noah asked, his voice going husky, his eyes soft.

I swallowed, my nipples tightening in anticipation because I just knew his answer was going to be really, really good.

“Maybe.”

I was pretty sure whatever answer he gave me, I wasn’t prepared to hear it, even as I craved it. I was right on the edge, the desire to be reckless delivering a melody that called to me like a siren’s song.