“You.”
“Mmm.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his powerful frame, planting a kiss on her forehead.
He rubbed her back.
She closed her eyes and nuzzled his chin, enjoying his soothing touch, reveling in his scent, enhanced by his cologne. “One week left.” Shesighed. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” He bent his head and kissed her.
Maybe he could visit? Did he want to? She hoped he would offer, but Nick broke the sweet kiss, saying nothing, his gaze flicking to the clock on the nightstand.
He started to draw back, but Jannie reached up and pinched his nipple, twisting the way she’d learned he liked.
Nick grunted.
Unable to hold back anymore, she reached under the towel and gripped his already semi-erect length.
“Jannie …” His eyes darkened before drifting shut, his beautiful lips parting.
He swiftly hardened in her hand. “So long,” she murmured, thrilling at the thought of how deeply he could fill her. For a few moments, he let her touch him, slick and hot and beautifully hard as her thumb swirled over his tip.
A moment later, he reached to grasp her wrist and pull her hand away. “I have a time slot to make, woman.”
She gave him a wicked smile. “But you can’t go like this.”
“I can’t finish this, either.” He zeroed in on her mouth, his eyes glinting. “Unless …”
Nope. Absolutely not.
She gave him one last squeeze, then let him go and gently pushed on his chest, not missing the confused flicker of disappointment in his dark gaze.
Oh, well. She wasn’t into doingthat.
A scratch sounded at the door, and Rolf trotted in, plopping himself in the doorway, effectively ruining the already de-escalated mood.
Jannie sighed.
From the bed, the phone chimed with another text. She glared at it, preferring to watch Nick head toward the dresser, his superb ass on full display, shifting deliciously with each step.
Did she see nail marks on one cheek?
Apparently, she’d marked him again last night. Jannie couldn’t stop a satisfied smile.
He opened a drawer and reached for a pair of those tight red boxers he liked. “Don’t you think you’ve blown them off long enough? You know, the longer you let these things go, the harder it is to pick them up again.”
He was right, of course.Damn it.
Nick shoved an arm into a starched white uniform shirt. The epaulets, navy and white, thankfully differed from the black and gold ones her brothers wore, so it wasn’t weird to ogle and pant as he donned his pilot uniform.
Two loud tones sounded, followed by a robotic voice: “Wind shear … wind shear … wind shear!”
Nick’s head snapped around. “What’s that?”
“Ian’s ringtone.”
He started buttoning his shirt. “The wind shear alert?”
“Uh-huh.”
