Page 21 of Flying High


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“Practically,” Kyle says with a roll of his eyes. “Except that you’ve never actually flown a helicopter, correct?”

Devon drops his eyes, looking abashed. “Correct. But I could if I had the chance.”

I look up at Jack and give him a smile of gratitude for putting up with my coworkers like this. It’s our last night in Hawaii and I had a work dinner planned tonight that I couldn’t miss (even though I really wanted to), but I couldn’t spend it without Jack.

He’s been great. He got us reservations on the most exclusive (and expensive) restaurant on the island and we have the best seat in the house. It’s a gorgeous table on the grass in front of a stunning beach. Palm trees are swaying over our heads and the gentle sound of the waves lapping the shore mixes with the live band playing Hawaiian music. The sun is just beginning to set and the waiters are lighting the tiki torches.

Devon has been trying to impress Jack all night with his helicopter knowledge and Jack has nodded politely at all of the ridiculous things he’s said. I’m very appreciative.

He slides his hand onto my thigh under the table and I grip it, giving it a little squeeze to show him how grateful I am that he’s here.

I’ve never felt a feeling of pride before, walking into a public place on a man’s arm. I definitely felt that tonight.

Every woman’s head in the restaurant turned to look at Jack when we walked in, but I swear, he never took his hungry eyes off me. He makes me feel like a supermodel. I’m going to miss that feeling. I still can’t believe that it’s our last night together. I push that horrible thought out of my head before it makes me start to cry and try to be happy, enjoying our last night together.

Susan leans in when Devon asks Jack a technical question. “Be careful of that man,” she warns in a whisper.

Even after two glasses of wine, this woman hasn’t relaxed. She’s a frazzled ball of nerves as usual.

“Why do you say that?” I ask.

“He has tattoos,” she says in a deathly serious tone. “He could be a serial killer. Men with tattoos almost always are.”

I’m trying to see if she’s joking, but she’s not.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

She grumbles something to herself as she grabs another bread roll.

I love his tattoos. They’re so sexy.

His palm slides up my thigh as I lean in closer to him and inhale his musky cologne. Having his hand inch up my leg is getting me going all over again. I squirm in my seat, feeling a hot wetness seep between my legs. This feeling is getting all too familiar…

Jack leans into my ear when Devon starts talking to Kyle. “I don’t like sharing you,” he whispers in a raspy voice. “It makes me crazy with all these mens’ eyes on you.”

I look around shyly. There aren’t any men looking at me, are there?

“I want you all to myself. You’re breathtaking in this dress and I want it to be just for me.”

“It is just for you,” I whisper back as I slide my hand up his thick forearm. His jacket is on the back of his chair and his shirt sleeves are rolled up his sexy tattooed arms. I drag my fingertips up it, loving the way I can tease goosebumps out of him. “And I’m not wearing any panties. Just for you.”

His palm slides up my thigh and I have to swallow a gasp when I feel his fingertip grazing my sex, testing to see if I’m telling the truth.

“Mmmmm,” he moans low enough for only me to hear. There’s a lustful glaze over his eyes and I know we better get the check soon before this caveman kicks everyone out and takes me on the table. Unfortunately, we haven’t even got our main course yet.

“Right, Jack?” Devon says, jerking us out of our heavenly daze.

“What?” Jack says, turning to him with a snarl. He looks like a wolf who’s been interrupted mid-meal. I’ve never seen that feral look in his eyes before, but I like it. I want to see more of it.

“I was just saying that the Robinson R2 is the best helicopter around,” Devon says proudly. “Don’t you agree?”

“Sure,” Jack grunts. He turns back to me and is gripping my hand as he explodes out of his chair. “I want to show you something.”

“Careful,” Susan says as she grips my other hand. “Make sure he leaves the steak knife on the table.”

“I’ll be okay,” I whisper with a wink.

She’s shaking her head, not buying it at all.

Jack practically drags me through the outdoor restaurant. I try to keep up, but it’s hard walking in these heels on the grass.

I can feel the intense primal need radiating off him. I knew he was the type of man who gets whatever he wants, and right now, this man wants me. Desperately.

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