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Before I even realized what was happening, I was fucking her all over again.
And when we finally stopped over an hour later, she’d come four times, me three, and I was exhausted.
“Marry me,” I whispered into her hair.
Her eyes, wide open and focused on me, were electric.
“After this op, you bet your ass I’ll become yours.”
CHAPTER 13
If I say ‘I could eat’ you have about thirteen minutes before I become a different person.
-Beckham to Trouper
BECKHAM
I wasn’t sure that I could find Trouper any sexier.
Honest to God, I didn’t think it was possible.
But then I saw him in flight gear.
Easton urged me to the fence where we were watching the take-offs and the landings through—I wasn’t sure we were actually supposed to be doing this—and we watched as Trouper stood beside a massive plane with his hands on his hips.
After a few more head nods, brought the helmet in his hands, and slowly fitted it in place on his head.
He stopped midway when someone said something to him.
His head jerked around, and the moment that our eyes locked, he grinned wickedly.
He winked, then turned back around to continue his conversation.
“God, he looks good in that,” I found myself saying to his brother.
He bumped me with his hip, then threw his arm around me.
“Not even married for an hour, and you’re already looking at other men. I mean, he’s my brother, darling dear. How could you do this to me?” Easton teased.
I shrugged his arm off of my shoulder and went back to ogling my man.
“That doesn’t happen until tomorrow,” I grumbled. “Or maybe even the next day. At least around town. Up here, some of them know that I’m FBI.”
Easton sighed. “We also don’t know if this guy is military or not. So, we should play the part.”
I tightened my hands on the chain-link fence, knowing he was right.
But that was my Trouper out there looking all sexy in his flight suit!
“Whatever,” I grumbled, slightly upset.
Okay, if I was being honest with myself, it was more than ‘slightly.’
It was a lot.
One final op, and I was done.
One final op, and Trouper and I would be free to spend our lives together.
One. Final. Op.
“There he goes,” Easton said as Trouper made his way to the plane he was standing beside.
Everyone went nuts for about half a minute as they situated themselves, then two men pulled off from the group and made their way toward us.
Toot and Kansas.
I grinned at them.
“Hey, boys.” I smiled. “How are y’all doing today?”
“We’re doing good,” Toot said as he leaned against the chain-link fence nearest me.
Kansas took up the spot next to Easton.
“You ever seen him fly?” Kansas asked the two of us.
“Nope,” we both answered at once.
“You’re in for a treat,” Toot said.
I looked over at him.
“How did you get the call sign ‘Toot?’” I asked.
Kansas started to laugh hysterically.
Toot’s face reddened.
“Okay, so you realize that when we’re in those things, there’s a lot of G-forces going on, right?” Toot asked.
I tilted my head slightly to the left.
“I guess,” I answered.
“Well,” he hesitated. “So my first time doing some Gs, I might or might not have let a little toot slip out. And others might or might not have heard it.”
“It was a big fart, not just a little one,” Kansas corrected him. “And it’s not just that one time. It’s almost every time he goes up there.”
“It’s a tradition now,” Toot disagreed. “And yeah, so that’s how I got my name.” He paused. “Your stupid man was the one to give it to me.”
My lips were already tipping up at the corner at that knowledge.
“Hey, she’s mine. I’m her man.” Easton once again threw his arm around me.
Kansas snorted. “State already told us. He knew we would be curious about it after what happened last night.”
Easton turned to me. “What happened last night?”
I felt my face heat.
“Ol’ State decided to throw down in front of the entire bar,” Toot answered. “All over little old her.”
“Some guy thought it would be a great idea to try to touch my hair,” I grumbled under my breath.
“Fuck.” Easton sighed. “What is it with him and your hair?”
I agreed.
The very first fight Trouper ever got in when it came to me was when someone had tried to put his hand in my hair. Sure, the hand had manure in it, but still, it wasn’t the manure that had set him off. It was the fact that someone thought they could touch my hair and get away with it.
Easton started to tell them that very story, but my eyes were all for the man that was now climbing into the cockpit of the scary looking plane.
“How fast does one of those fly?” I found myself asking.
“Top speed? About fifteen hundred miles an hour,” Kansas answered.
The breath sucked into my lungs so fast that I started to cough.
