Fly With Me (Wild Aces #1)(23)

“Pretty much.”

He sighed, as if resigned to his fate. “No secret handshake. Shit ton of traditions—songs, things we say, things we don’t say, things we do, things we don’t. It’s its own code.”

I was beginning to figure that out, just like I was beginning to realize that he was definitely his own man. And I liked that a lot.

“Okay, give me an example of the lingo.”

I circled his cock, stroking and squeezing, loving the feel of him jerking against my palm.

He was silent for a moment and I wasn’t sure if he was thinking of an answer or succumbing to the feel of my fingers working him over.

“Vocabulary.” He pushed the word out. “We don’t say ‘box,’ we say ‘container.’ And we don’t say ‘head,’ we say ‘cranium.’”

I blinked, my hand stilling. “What?”

“We don’t say ‘box.’ We say ‘container’ instead.”

“You just said ‘box.’”

“To explain it, yeah. But otherwise, no ‘box.’”

What?

“Why?”

“Think about it.”

I thought about it.

“Once again, why?”

He lifted himself up on his elbow again, his hand reaching between us, his fingers stroking me much as I did to him, teasing my clit. “We don’t say ‘box.’”

I took a second—probably because he was already stoking the fires of arousal within me—and then the totally juvenile, sexual joke hit me.

“You have got to be kidding.”

The last word came out with a squeak as his finger dipped lower, sliding into me with one smooth thrust. I tilted my hips up, wanting it deeper, and he gave it to me, plunging a second finger inside.

He flashed me a boyish grin, entirely too pleased with himself and still hot as f*ck. “Nope.”

My eyes narrowed even as my breath hitched and he did a twisty thing with his fingers that had my head falling back.

“And cranium?” I ground out.

“We don’t say ‘head.’”

I got that one a little faster, despite the fact that he’d definitely just hit my G-spot. “That is the dumbest f*cking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You going to lecture me on fighter pilot vocabulary, or are you going to come your brains out?”

I opened my mouth to give him a sassy retort, but then he hit that spot again, and a moan escaped instead.

His head came down, his lips brushing against mine as he whispered, “Definitely going to come again.”

He wasn’t wrong.



NOAH

I woke early, a week of being on the day train with early brief times catching up with me.

Part of our job was dealing with the sheer unpredictability of our schedules. Some days I showed up at 3 a.m. and came home at 4 p.m. Other days I was in at noon and home at 2 a.m. It made getting on a consistent sleep schedule challenging, to say the least. So even though I’d barely slept all night, my hands, mouth, and cock full of Jordan, I was up now, lying on my side, my arm draped around her waist, watching her sleep. Watching her sleep and trying to get my shit together.

I figured it was the combination of tits, ass, and attitude that had me hooked. Not to mention the hair. And the laugh. She had a great f*cking laugh, one that reverberated all the way to my dick. She felt tailor-made for me, my type to a T. My type in a way I hadn’t found before. So yeah, I was definitely not letting her walk away without seeing how this would play out.

She stirred, her body stretching out, a lazy yawn spreading her lips.

“Morning.”

Her eyes fluttered open, giving me a sleepy smile. “Good morning.”

I reached out, my finger trailing down the curve of her cheek, her skin silk beneath my touch.

“I like waking up to you,” I whispered, my voice tight as I gave her more than I’d anticipated.

The knot in my throat only got bigger as I watched the pretty pink spread across her cheeks. It had been a long time since I’d woken up with a girl in my bed, since I’d had a night like last night—hell, I wasn’t sure I’d ever had a night like last night. And yeah, maybe I was more than a little lonely. Or maybe it was just how good she felt beside me.

My last girlfriend, Heather, and I had been together for a year, only to break up when she’d wanted four little words and a ring, and I’d given her four very different little words—I’m going to Afghanistan.

Maybe she would have handled the short-notice deployment better if a diamond had accompanied it, but even as I’d thought about it, I couldn’t make myself pull the trigger. It hadn’t been a commitment thing; it had been the feeling that we were interchangeable to each other. I’d liked her a lot, but that was a pretty shitty basis for a marriage, especially one that would be tested as much as a military marriage would be. And considering she lived in the same town where I was stationed and had already been through her fair share of fighter pilots, I was pretty sure I was little more than a patch and a pair of wings.

Nothing about the girl next to me felt remotely interchangeable.

“Me, too,” Jordan mumbled, her voice a little sad.

She sat up, staring over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was just after 10 a.m. I’d been watching her sleep for two hours, which was one hour and fifty-five minutes longer than I was comfortable with. I wasn’t a player by any stretch of the imagination, but I also wasn’t the kind of guy who watched girls sleep. But it had taken that long for me to figure out where I wanted this to go, to plan my next steps with the same level of attention I gave to a mission.