Fighting for Flight (13 page)

Fan-freaking-tastic. That’s the only way to describe
riding on the back of a Harley Blackline with my super-hot, badass
boyfriend. The words tumble around in my head, making my stomach
flutter, or maybe it’s the adrenaline from the ride. My guess is a
combination of both.

The sun is shining, and there’s a comfortable breeze
from the speed of the bike. Jonah’s massive body commands the
incredible piece of machinery as we twist and turn through the Las
Vegas streets. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to
drive it myself. I make a mental note to ask Jonah if he would
teach me.

He takes the long way to my place, making sure to
hit some of the most beautiful parts of town. On a particularly
long stretch of road, I loosen my hold on his waist and tighten my
knees at his hips. With a quick prayer, I throw my arms over my
head, completely free, and howl like a wild dog. Jonah’s body
shakes with what I assume is laughter, but I can’t hear over the
roar of the bike. A little embarrassed by my blissful liberation, I
wrap my arms around his body and hug him to me.

We pull up to Guy’s Garage, and Jonah parks the
Harley right next to my Nova. I swing my leg over the bike and
dismount while he holds it steady. Pulling my helmet off, I smooth
the tussled ends of my hair. Kickstand down, I admire him as he
comes off the bike. He exudes confidence and stability, like a man
well aware of his body and its capabilities. His red t-shirt hugs
his torso, and his jeans are baggy but tight in all the right
places. He removes his helmet and walks around my car checking it
out. He’s seen it plenty of times from a distance, but never
close-up.

I study the look of concentration on his face.
“Well, what do you think?”

His gaze snaps to mine. “What do I think? I think
it’s amazing.” He bends at the waist with his hands on his hips to
look in the driver’s side window. “Original interior, stock
shifter, steering wheel . . . Raven, baby, you did this?”

I’m back to perma-grin status. My chest swells with
pride at the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, it took me two years saving money for parts
and working on it in my free time.”

He closes the space between us and wraps his arms
around my waist, placing his hands on my bottom. Just like in his
kitchen, the simple touch ignites my blood and I feel something I
don’t feel often. Sexy.

“I’m so proud of you, babe. This,” he gestures to
the car with a nod, “is incredible.
You
are incredible.”

His words penetrate deep into my soul, shaking the
useless rubble of the protective wall he destroyed just last
night.

Pushing up to my toes, I place my hands on his chest
and slowly brush my lips against his. His grip flexes against my
bottom. I make another pass at his lips, and another, then open my
mouth and allow the tip of my tongue to drag against his full lower
lip. He reaches into my hair and tugs gently, angling me to him and
taking no prisoners. His lips cover mine, tongue thrusting into my
mouth. A groan rumbles against my palms, sending my blood soaring.
His kiss is possessive and dominant, and I moan into his eager
mouth. Without warning, I feel the sunbaked metal of my car against
my back as Jonah pins me there. He grinds his hips into my belly
and my legs go weak. Time passes, minutes or hours I’m not sure, as
I lose myself in his kiss.

“We need to slow down before we get arrested for
indecent exposure.” His wicked grin and hungry eyes have me
thinking it’s worth the risk.

He holds me firmly against the car until my
breathing calms and I regain the use of my legs.

“You okay?” he asks, a wolfish smile tugging at his
lips.

“I’m good.”

With two steps back, he releases me from his hold,
but grabs my hand.

He shrugs one shoulder. “Show me your place.”

I head for my apartment in a Jonah-induced fog. Will
I ever get used to being with him? Or will I be stumbling over my
feet every time we’re together.

“Ray!”

Just steps from the alley, I hear the unmistakable
call. Guy is standing in the bay, his glare so tight I can’t see
the color of his eyes.

“Um, I’ll be right back.” I let go of Jonah’s hand
only to feel him hold on tighter.

“No. I’m coming with you.” His expression is
relaxed, but determined.

This should be interesting. Guy has never seen me
with a man before, mainly because I’ve never dated one. And now
here I am, walking hand in hand with The Las Vegas Casanova.

“Hey, what’s up?” My unusually high voice has Guy’s
scowl narrowing.

He looks back and forth between Jonah and me, his
eyes darting from our joined hands to our faces. “What’s going on
here?”

“Oh, uh . . . well, we just—”

“Raven and I are dating, sir.”

Guy’s face goes from pinched and small to wide and
slack. “Dating.”

“Yes, sir.” Jonah pulls me to his side, letting go
of my hand and throwing his arm over my shoulder.

I smile up at Guy, who’s back to glaring. This time,
it’s aimed directly at Jonah.

“Didn’t know you were the dating type, son.”

My heart races at Guy’s blunt confrontation of
Jonah’s reputation.

“Never was. I am now.” Jonah’s answer is accompanied
by a firm squeeze.

I want to jump up and down at the certainty that
laces Jonah’s words. Instead, I wrap my arm around his waist and
hug him to me, smiling huge at Guy.

His face relaxes, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Right then.” He points in Jonah’s face, putting on his best
fatherly expression. “Behave yourself.”

Now it’s Jonah who’s fighting a grin. “Yes,
sir.”

With a curt nod, Guy walks back into the garage. I
exhale the breath I was holding and lead Jonah to the alley. That
went well, but if I know Guy, we’ll be talking about it later.

We take the stairs to my door, and I watch the
playful humor slide from his face. I grab my keys and open the
door.

“This is it.” I motion for him to enter.

He glowers around the 500 square feet. “It’s . . .
cute.”

I’d be embarrassed if I thought his distaste was due
to my poverty, but it’s clear in the way he checks out the street
lights and the locks on my door that he’s concerned for my safety.
My heart beats a little faster.

“Make yourself at home. I’m going to change and grab
a few things.”

Thankful that I hit the laundromat a couple days
ago, I pull a black lace bra and panty set, my favorite jeans, and
a black tank top into my arms. I step into the bathroom and slide
the curtain closed. Changing quickly so that Jonah doesn’t have to
wait, I brush on some mascara and swipe on lip gloss. I grab my
toiletries and walk back out into my room.

On the way to my backpack, I freeze and bite back my
smile. Seeing a UFL Heavyweight on my tiny twin bed makes it look
like a Twinkie. I lose the battle and a laugh shoots from my
throat. He looks at me like he knows what I’m laughing about and
totally agrees.

“Can you imagine both of us in this bed? Or hell,
just me?” He looks perplexed while he studies the bed from top to
bottom, which sends me into full-fledged hilarity.

“If we stay here, you’ll have to sleep on the
floor.” I manage to say through my giggles.

His hazel eyes darken, his amusement replaced by
something tangible and consuming. “Not sleepin’ on the floor, babe.
I’m starting to think of a few different ways we could fit.”

I suck in a breath and try not to fidget as
electricity vibrates between us.

Breaking the moment before we set something on fire,
I shove things into my backpack. Jonah gets up from the bed and
goes to the small bookshelf in the corner of the room. I do a quick
mental inventory of what’s there, hoping he doesn’t find anything
embarrassing. Thank God, I got rid of the Kama Sutra book Eve gave
me on my last birthday as a gag. Other than a Bible, some romance
novels, and a few pictures, there’s nothing much to see.

“That’s insane,” he says with wonder in his
voice.

He picks up a small framed picture that I know is of
my mom. It’s the only picture I have of her. I took it before I
moved out, wanting to keep something of her, even if she wanted
nothing to do with me. I remember catching her on the couch after
she worked late. She had taken a long, hot shower, as she always
did after work. She had on a pink, cotton, floor-length nightgown.
She was listening to The Temptations, staring out the window at the
distant lights of Las Vegas Boulevard with a lost look on her face.
I’ll never forget how her beauty clashed dramatically with the
ugliness she held in her eyes. I grabbed my throw away camera and
snapped the shot. She was in such a daze she didn’t even flinch.
That was two years ago. I haven’t seen her since.

“Raven, you look just like her. She’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah, she is.”

My chest burns with heartbreak like it does every
time I think about my mom. I absently rub my chest in an attempt to
push back the pain. I can’t do this right now, going from the
extreme high of the last twelve hours with Jonah to this extreme
low.

Anyone up for a ride on the bi-polar coaster?

He puts the picture back and turns toward me. There
is a kindness in his eyes that makes me feel vulnerable. I look
away.

Grabbing my stuff, I remember the can of cat food
and head for the door. “Ready?”

He’s standing in the same place, his hands shoved
into his pockets. I watch as something works behind his eyes, like
he wants to say something but he can’t sort it out.

With a long breath, he nods and smiles. “Yeah.”

***

Walking up to the UFL Training Center doors, my
stomach flutters with nerves. The idea of being inside a room
filled with guys just like Jonah is daunting and intimidating as
heck. He holds my hand as we push through the entrance and I grip
him tighter.

Air conditioning and heavy metal hum through the
lobby. Bright red couches and sleek side tables line the dark gray
walls. At the far wall sits a desk with a striking strawberry blond
woman sitting behind it.

Jonah tosses the lovely lady a quick chin lift. Her
perky smile fades as her eyes hit me. I give her a small wave of my
fingers and suppress the urge to throw her my middle one. I chalk
up my aggressive attitude to all the testosterone that drips down
the walls like honey.

We make our way down a hallway lined with doors. As
we near the end, I hear the vibration of male voices. They get
louder and louder until we emerge from the hallway into a massive
room.

Clean sweat and the unmistakable smell of man fill
the room along with the called-out directions of trainers and
grunts of fighters. I slow my pace until a tug on my hand has me
moving. He leads me towards the center of the gym where roughly a
dozen men are grouped off in various forms of fighting. Some are
fighting on a mat while others are punching and kicking bags. A few
are taking a break, soaked in sweat and sucking down water, some
are on the floor stretching. There is a large octagon in the middle
of the room where two men are boxing. The combinations of voices
and metal music bounce off the concrete walls and high ceilings,
putting a palpable energy in the air.

“Give me your backpack. I’ll put it in my locker.” I
hand it to him without looking away from the activity on the
floor.

Slowly, the action stops and the room goes quiet.
It’s then that I notice all eyes are on me.
Crud.
I look for
Jonah but catch his back as he passes through the locker room
door.

Facing the room, I lift a hand to wave, my
expression probably as awkward as I feel.

“Who are you?” a handsome, older man calls out to
me.

I clear my throat. “I’m Raven.” I try unsuccessfully
to control the shake in my voice.

“That’s Jonah’s girl. She’s cool.”

I exhale in relief at the sound of Blake’s
voice.

He makes his way over to me, and the rest of the
guys stare for a minute longer before they resume their
training.

“Hey, baby girl. Where’s Jonah?”

His shirt is off and his skin glistens with sweat.
Yesterday at Jonah’s party, he never took his shirt off. I stand
staring at the military tattoo that takes up one whole side of his
chest, but avert my eyes to his face before I can make out what it
says. He’s smiling at me in his usual charming way.

“He went to put some stuff in his locker.” I chew
the inside of my cheek. “Is it okay that I’m here? I wouldn’t want
to disrupt or cause any problems.”

“Are you kidding?” He looks at the guys over his
shoulder and back to me. “You just gave these butt holes a reason
to show off. They’ll probably have the best session of their lives
with you here to put up for.”

My lips twitch, fighting my smile.

“You laugh even when I’m not trying to be funny.
What’d I say?”

I cover my mouth to muffle my giggles. “You said
butt holes.”

He shakes his head, looks to the floor then back at
me. “You ever cuss, Raven?”

My laughter dies as I contemplate his question.
Of course I cuss.
What adult doesn’t cuss? Ugh. Who am I
kidding? I totally don’t. It’s not as if I haven’t tried. It just
always sounds so stupid coming from my mouth.

“Of course I cuss,” I lie.

He glares at me with a playful glint in his eye.
“Really?”

“Psht. Yes.” My palms sweat, and I wonder what it is
about this guy that makes me so nervous.

“All right, fine. Hit me with one right now. Give me
your nastiest curse.”

Rocking back on his heels, he crosses his bulging
arms over his muscular chest waiting.

My mouth falls open at the ridiculousness. I snap my
mouth shut and square my shoulders.

“Okay, I will.” I race through my mind pulling up
some of the least offensive curse words I can think of, all of them
sounding lame even in my head. “It’s just I’m not mad right now and
I never cuss unless I’m mad.” I hold my head high and pray like
crazy that he’ll be intimidated by my integrity and leave it
alone.