Fighting for Flight (10 page)

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first day I met
you.”

Bending forward, he brings his lips just a breath
away from mine. I lean in and close my eyes, expecting to feel the
warmth of his mouth. He uses his hold to tip my chin down and kiss
my forehead. I sigh and melt into the tenderness of his touch.

Gently, he runs his nose down my hairline to my ear.
“Mmm, you smell so good.”

My fingers flex against his firm chest at the husky
sound in his voice. A second chill races through my body. Heat
floods my system. I welcome every new feeling, every fragile
emotion that courses through me.

He makes a fist in my hair and tilts my head. The
soft heat of his lips brushes against my earlobe then my neck,
trailing kisses to my shoulder. He lingers there, licking and
nipping with his teeth. The abrasive stubble of his chin against my
collarbone electrifies my body. I press my aching breasts into him
as my bones liquefy beneath his touch. His hard, strong body
accepts my weight, and a moan tumbles from my throat.

I feel him smile against my skin. “You like that,
baby?”

He called me baby!
I’m thankful he can’t see
my eyes as they stare at the ceiling, wide in shock.

The silky moisture from his open-mouth kisses at my
neck have my eyelids falling shut. “Sweet, just like I knew you’d
be.” His breath tickles my skin.

Something coils deep inside, a damn on the verge of
collapsing. “Jonah . . .” My mind scrambles with how to communicate
everything I want from him right now. His lips on mine, the weight
of his body, his hands . . .

He places a final kiss against my neck and pulls his
head up. My eyelids, suddenly heavy, fight to stay open. My body
trembles with a raw need I’ve never felt before. And our lips
haven’t even touched.

“I want to take you inside,” he whispers, through a
dark, sexy smile.

“Okay.”

“Send Eve home. You’re staying with me tonight.”

His proposition douses the fire raging in my
body.

“You want me to spend the night?” Panic creeps
in.

His lips curve at the ends. “Yeah, you can borrow
something to sleep in.”

I try to think of something logical, some reason why
I can’t spend the night, but with his hands running up and down my
back, it’s hard to concentrate. How can I say no? Jonah Slade asks
for a sleepover, the answer is always yes. It’s in the female
handbook. She says no, she gets her membership revoked, right? If
not, she should.

“Okay.”

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Raven, you gotta
give me something besides okay.”

Here he just confessed to having feelings for me and
asked me to spend the night, and he want’s something besides okay?
My brain is on overload, not to mention the other parts of my body
that have just woken up for the first time in . . . well, forever.
They may even short circuit if he gets anywhere near them with that
skilled mouth of his. I laugh inwardly at the thought of Jonah’s
vast experience with women compared to my complete lack of
experience with men.

Oh, no.

“I can’t have sex with you.” I blurt out the words,
my hand covering my mouth too late.

I’m an idiot.

His eyes light up, dancing with laughter, making my
idiocy totally worth it.

“That’s all right. I’m not asking you to stay over
so I can have sex with you.” He lifts one eyebrow and gives me a
one-dimpled grin. “Can we make out?”

Heat bursts against my cheeks and floods down my
neck. I bury my face against his chest to hide my embarrassment.
“Okay.”

He throws his head back and laughs while holding me
to him. Instantly, his touch calms my nerves and my lungs take in a
full breath. His warm skin smells like coconut sunblock mixed with
his usual masculine spice. I relax deeper into his hold.

“Jonah?’

“Hmm?”

“I like you too.”

He pulls back just enough to see my face,
determination flashing in his eyes. He leans down and, knowing what
he’s after, I lift up on my toes. Our lips touch for the first time
in a soft caress. I’ve wondered what it would be like to kiss
Jonah, and even my best fantasies weren’t this good.

His full, strong lips mold to mine. A slow sweep of
his tongue has me opening to him. What started off teasing turns
hot and urgent as he pulls my lower lip with his teeth, coaxing my
tongue to explore. His hands grab at my hair and mine wrap around
his biceps.

The kiss turns demanding as he possesses my mouth.
His muscles flex against my palms. I struggle to keep myself on my
toes, his expert mouth making my legs completely useless. I slide
back down on flat feet, dragging my breasts down his chest as I go.
He releases his hold on my hair and cups my bottom with his hands,
pulling me against him.

My gosh, that feels good.

With what seems like great effort, he ends the kiss,
gently nibbling and tasting my lower lip. His hands give me a
squeeze before sliding up and resting on my lower back. He bends
down and presses one last kiss on my neck before looking into my
eyes.

Amazing.
In this moment, after that kiss,
he’s no longer Jonah “The Assassin” Slade, celebrity bad-boy.
Looking at him now, he’s just Jonah.

“Don’t worry about tonight.” His words are said in a
way that makes me feel like I might be more to him than a hook up.
“I’d never push you further than you’re willing to go.”

My stomach twists with anxiety. He has no idea.

Jonah

After my talk with Raven in the bathroom, I have one
objective—get these people out of my house. Pronto. With the taste
of her still on my lips, I let the guys know that the party is
over.

It’s just past ten as I wave off the last of my
friends. I watch from the front porch as Raven says good-bye to
Eve. The patio light illuminates her face as she laughs hard at
something Eve must have said.

Damn, she’s gorgeous.
I always knew she was
beautiful, but getting her alone in that bathroom, her body
trembling in my arms, her breathy moans, and flushed cheeks.
Perfect.

And that kiss. I’m not big on kissing, never have
been. But Raven’s sweet lips, so tentative at first, only to turn
greedy and demanding—a few more minutes of that and I’d probably
bust in my shorts like a teenage boy.

She walks toward me, her backpack slung over one
shoulder, Eve’s taillights disappearing down the driveway.

“Come here.” I brush her hair aside and lean in.
Before I’m there, she tilts her head, offering her throat to me.
Fucking perfect.
I hone in on my spot: the blackbird’s wing
that peeks at the base of her neck. First, a quick press of my
lips, then I part my mouth to taste her tender flesh. She hums low
in her throat and leans into me.

“I like your tattoo.” My voice against her neck
makes her to shiver.

“I like yours too.”

I force myself back a step. “Everything okay with
your girl?”

“Yes, she’s happy I’m staying here. She hates my
place, thinks it’s not safe.” She picks at the frayed strap of her
backpack.

“Why is your place not safe?”

She looks up at me and rolls her eyes. “I live in a
studio apartment.”

Okay. That doesn’t sound so bad.

“Where?”

She blows out a long, defeated-sounding breath.
“Right by the garage.”

She shifts on her feet, and I know she’s holding
something back. I tilt my head and wait. Her eyes grow a fraction.
That’s right, sweetheart. I’m on to you.

“Well, actually . . .”

“I’m listening.”

“I live above the garage.” She’s back to picking at
her backpack strap.

Nope. I must’ve heard that wrong. “You live above
Guy’s Garage?”

She nods.

A wave of anxiety floods my body. “Raven, there’s
nothing over there but warehouses and vagrants. There’s not a
decent human being within a ten-mile radius after business
hours.”

Thinking of her all alone at night in that part of
town makes my muscles tense. My mind imagines all the things that
could happen to an innocent girl in that part of town after hours.
The alley behind the garage is a festering crime spot. There’s
probably all manner of piece-of-shit lowlifes lurking in the
shadows. I’ll never be able to sleep knowing she’s over there
alone. No.

“From now on, you stay here with me,” I blurt.

Her eyes flash in shock and her lips part.

I just took this too far.

“What did you say?” Her voice is barely a
whisper.

I run my hands through my hair, trying to figure out
what the hell is going on in my head. I’m having a hard time
believing my own words. Did I just ask her to move in with me? I
want this girl, more than I’ve wanted any other girl. There’s no
denying that. The protective instinct stirs in my chest, something
I’ve never felt for any woman outside of my mom and sister.

“You heard me.”

“Jonah, I’m not staying with you every night. That’s
absurd. You barely know me. I mean . . .” She studies me, and I
can’t help but think how her confused and shocked expression adds a
cuteness to her already gorgeous face.

“I just want to keep you safe, and I can’t do that
if you aren’t with me.” I take a deep, steadying breath. That felt
okay. Not awkward, like I thought it would. “Besides, you work on
the Impala most mornings. It’ll save on gas money.” It’s a stretch,
but I’m desperate—also a new feeling for me.

“That’s really sweet of you, b-but I can’t.” Her
expression relaxes, and she puts her hands on her hips. “I have to
feed Dog.”

This is interesting. I can’t think of a single girl,
not one, who would argue with me at my offer to have them sleep in
my bed. And did she say she has a dog?

“Dog?”

“Yes. Dog.” Her shoulders square off and she lifts
her chin.

She thinks something like having to feed her dog is
going discourage me? She needs to get to know me better, which is
exactly what I plan on doing once this conversation is over.

“Bring your dog.” I shrug.

“Bring my . . . but . . . I don’t have a dog.” Her
forehead pinches between her eyebrows, and I fight the desire to
kiss the skin smooth.

Damn, she is really cute.

“You said you had to feed your dog.”

“Right, Dog. My cat. Well, not
my
cat. The
cat that lives in the alley.”

I roll my lips between my teeth to keep from
laughing. “Let me get this straight. You feed an alley cat that
you’ve named Dog, and that’s why you can’t stay with me.”

“Exactly.” She throws her hands out like she’s just
made the point of the century.

I lose the battle against my laughter and nearly
double over with it. “You’re, without a doubt, the most amusing
girl I’ve ever met, Raven . . . uh . . .” I’m not going through
this again. “What’s your last name?”

Her expression falls and her face goes pale.
What
did I say?
She rolls her bottom lip into her mouth, raking it
across her teeth. My laughter dies and instinctively I pull her
into my arms.

“Baby? You okay?”

She exhales and wraps her hands around my waist.
“I’m fine. You just caught me off guard.” Her arms grow tight as
she hugs me to her. “I guess you’ll find out sooner or later.”

What the hell?
What could possibly be so bad
about her last name? I guess it could be Manson or Bundy.

“Morretti. My full name is Raven Morretti.” Her
words are dull and lifeless.

Morretti? I look past her, squinting into the
darkness. Why does that name—
Holy shit!

Dominick Morretti. Las Vegas’s most infamous pimp.
And her mom’s a prostitute. It all makes sense.

Not only have I seen his mug all over the news but
I’ve actually met the scumbag. I’ve seen him at all our fights,
working his girls. He tried to get us to throw down some cash for a
night with a Morretti girl.

Raven looks nothing like him with her dark hair and
olive skin, but those eyes. It’s amazing I didn’t make the
connection before. The color is so unique, but, where hers are cool
pools of Caribbean water, his are death by drowning. My mom always
said, “The eyes are the windows to your soul,” and looking into
Dominick Morretti’s eyes, it’s pretty clear he ain’t got one.

“Jonah?” Her arms grow impossibly tighter around my
waist.

She’s got to know I know who her father is. Everyone
in town knows who her father is. He not only runs the biggest
prostitution ring in the state, allegedly, but he also owns half
the real estate in town.
And she lives in a studio above a
garage?

“Yeah, baby. Let’s get you inside.”

I grab her hand and lead her into the house. Not
letting go, I lock the door and take her to the couch. I sit down
and pull her onto my lap. She stiffens and avoids my eyes.

“Your dad is Dominick Morretti.”

Dropping her forehead, she simply nods.

I take a deep breath and look to the ceiling. “I
know him, Raven. I know your dad—”

“He’s not my dad.” Her harsh glare locks on mine
before her expression softens. “I mean he’s my biological father,
but he’s not my dad. I don’t have a dad.”

I pull her to me, and she nestles into my chest, her
arms wrap around my waist.

“Well, whatever he is to you, he’s no good. I don’t
want you around him.”

She laughs humorlessly. “You don’t have to worry
about that. He hasn’t wanted anything to do with me in twenty
years. I doubt he ever will. I’m pretty sure whatever happened
between him and my mom was a mistake . . . you know, me.” Her final
words are barely audible as her voice is muffled in my chest.

Anger pushes its way through my concern for her. I
place my hand under chin and force her eyes to mine. “I can’t see
your life ever being considered a mistake.”

Her sad smile rips through me.