The Flyboy's Temptation (6 page)

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need a minute to figure things out.”

“What's to figure out? Why overthink things?”

She faced him. “That's your problem, J.T. You don't stop to think about anything. You're impulsive and reckless, but I'm not. I think things through. I look before I leap. I make pros-and-cons lists for every major decision and this thing that just happened between us is not part of my carefully orchestrated plan.”

“Well, honey, sometimes life doesn't play out the way we want,” he said, glaring. “Sometimes being impulsive and reckless, as you put it, opens up our world to a whole new array of possibilities that we never would've seen if we hadn't been forced to look around.”

Hope didn't know why she was so out of sorts. It wasn't the first time she'd had sex with someone outside a relationship. Contrary to what was spilling from her mouth, she'd had one-night stands—not many, though—and walked away without an ounce of shame afterward.

But there was something about J.T. that put her off her game, sent her spiraling off-kilter, and it scared her.

It scared her more than the fact that someone was trying to steal her work and potentially threaten the entire human race.

Yeah, Hope. You've got your priorities straight.

She stomped her foot in agitation with herself, but glared at J.T. because she couldn't think of what else to do, and then slammed the bathroom door shut behind her.

Mature. Real mature.

Hope leaned against the bathroom door, embarrassed and unsure of how to handle herself.

So how were they supposed to sleep next to each other now?

6

J.T
.
LISTENED
TO
the sound of the shower on the other side of the thin door and tried not to fixate on the desire to join Hope.

Maybe in hindsight it wasn't a smart idea to sleep with your client.

He could just hear his brother lecturing him already.
For Christ's sake, keep your dick in your pants!
Or something along those lines.

And Teagan would be right, of course.

Because Teagan didn't make stupid decisions the way J.T. did on a regular basis.

Teagan didn't drop the ball and forget to file flight plans.

Teagan didn't spend his rent money on strippers and booze.

Teagan didn't risk everything on a gut feeling, willing to put everything on the line for a dream that refused to die.

Awww, hell, Teagan didn't need a screwup like him always making the wrong decision.

Speaking of...he had to find a phone so he could call his brother and let him know what'd happened.

By now Teagan would have discovered that the plane had gone down and he was probably organizing a search-and-rescue op with some of his military contacts.

Finding a phone was a welcome distraction from the thoughts hounding him, and when he finally managed to talk the lodge manager into letting him make a collect call, he was relieved to hear Teagan's voice on the line.

“Where the hell are you?” Teagan asked, his voice bordering on a shout. “I came back to the hangar and found it shot to hell and the plane was gone. What happened?”

“It's a long story, bro, and when I get back to the States, I promise I'll tell you everything, but for now I just wanted to let you know I was okay and not to worry.”

“Where are you?”

“Lacanjá, Mexico. The plane went down in the jungle. We barely survived.”

“The plane went down?”

“Yeah, it's totaled.”

Teagan swore under his breath, but what could he say that wouldn't make him sound as if he was being a total asshole in light of the fact that J.T. had almost died, right? “Look, go ahead and read me the riot act for screwing up again, but I thought this was going to be an easy enough job and it paid well enough to look past the obvious danger signs.”

“What kind of danger signs?”

“Like people shooting at us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, me and the client, a woman by the name of Dr. Hope Larsen. She's some top scientist with a pharm corp that I've never heard of. She's promising to buy us a new plane if I can just get her to South America.”

“A new plane?” Teagan repeated incredulously. “Did you get that in writing?”

“I think she's good for it. Hell, she's using a black American Express card for expenses.”

“That's a good sign,” Teagan allowed grudgingly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, banged up and bruised, but nothing a cold beer won't cure.”

A beat passed and Teagan said, “Hey, I'm glad you're all right. Screw the plane. Just come home safe.”

J.T. swallowed the lump that rose. In another life, he and his brother were Air Force pilots. Each time they went up in the air, they'd tell each other, “Just come home safe.”

It'd been a long time since his brother had said those words to him.

Owning a struggling business together had put a strain on their relationship, one he hated.

That was why he'd taken Hope's offer. The opportunity to save Blue Yonder had been too tempting to pass up.

“Yeah, you know me...always operating on a wing and a prayer,” he quipped, clearing his throat of the emotion choking him. “Look, I need a favor. We're heading to Comitán to pick up a new plane. Got any connections I can use to make that happen?”

“Hell, it's not exactly friendly territory,” Teagan groused. “How can I reach you?”

“I'll work on getting a phone down here. I'll contact you when I do.”

“I'll see what I can do about getting you a plane.”

“Thanks, bro. I owe you.”

“Just don't get yourself killed.”

He grinned and clicked off. Knowing that his brother was going to do what he could to help lessened the tightening band around his chest when he thought of what was to come.

But the one saving grace was that in this country...money could make miracles happen.

And money was something Hope had plenty of.

* * *

H
OPE
EMERGED
FROM
the shower feeling slightly better, but no less confused.

She was surprised to see a folded tank top and shorts awaiting her on the bed, but J.T. was nowhere to be found. Hope lifted the shirt and smiled quizzically at the obvious tourist fare, but was grateful for the chance to wear something clean and not ripped to shreds.

The only logical explanation was that J.T. had found the clothes and left them for her to change into.

Okay, admit it... That was very thoughtful.

“Yes,” she answered herself with a hint of exasperation. “It was very nice and I certainly don't deserve his thoughtfulness after the way I acted.”

Hope supposed she ought to apologize to J.T. for going psycho on him earlier. It wasn't his fault that she was confused by her feelings. It wasn't like her to get all emotional and immature, either. Egad, she despised women like that. If a hidden camera had caught that little display, she surely would've died of mortification.

“Who are you talking to?”

Hope whirled, clutching the towel to her body. “Oh!” she said, laughing nervously. “I didn't hear you come in.”

“I figured that when you were having a conversation with no one. Unless you failed to tell me you're the Psychic Scientist, who talks to ghosts.”

She cast him a dark look. “Not psychic. And yes, I was talking to myself. I do that sometimes. Helps me to reason things out when I'm otherwise stuck.”

“And what did you conclude from your little conversation?”

“Oh, c'mon, you know what I said,” she said, her cheeks burning. The smile on his lips was almost contagious. So was the hunger in his eyes. Which reminded her that she was still naked under her towel. She snatched up her clothes and said over her shoulder, “Thanks for the change of clothes!” before disappearing into the bathroom again.

The bathroom was rapidly becoming her safe place.

Stop running away from confrontation! Be an adult. Channel your inner strong, confident woman!

Right.

Hope dressed, took a minute to compose herself and then returned to the bedroom, where she found J.T. waiting—and looking sexy as ever in his newly procured board shorts and bare chest. Shouldn't there be a law against a man looking so sinfully hot?

Get back on point. And stop staring at the dark blond happy trail disappearing behind his waistband! Good grief, it was like an arrow straight to that lovely...

Dragging her gaze away from his groin, she drew a deep breath and decided to rip off the bandage, so to speak, by going straight to the point. “Look, I was inexcusably irrational after our...mutually satisfying sexual encounter and I hope we can get past my behavior and chalk it up to the stress of the last few days. I want to reassure you that I am not, under most circumstances, a shrill, immature woman.”

“Good to know.”

She nodded. “Yes. I mean, I don't know what came over me.” More nervous laughter ensued and she wondered if she sounded like an idiot. Hope wagged her finger at him like a schoolmarm, because, you know, the idiot ship had already sailed. “You are quite talented with your...well, everything. But I'm sure you know that already.”

“Thank you?” J.T.'s sensual smile lit up her insides like a Christmas parade.
Oh, dear.
How were they going to sleep side by side without screwing like bunnies until morning?

“Okay, as wonderful and fun as it was...we can't do that again,” she told him, affecting a stern position. “I meant what I said about keeping things professional and I think that aside from that momentary lapse in judgment, we should be able to stick to our guns and keep our hands to ourselves.”

“Sure.”

Why was he readily agreeing with everything she was saying? She eyed him with suspicion. “Are you just saying what I want to hear?”

“Yep.”

Frustration rolled through her. “J.T., you're not making this any easier. Don't you agree that continuing to sleep together is a bad idea?”

“If you're a cuddler, then we might have a problem. I sleep hot.”

I bet you do, you hot piece of ass!

Her cheeks flared and she was extremely grateful that J.T. was not privy to her private thoughts.

“Are you going to be deliberately difficult? Just agree with me that we shouldn't have sex again and I'll drop it. We can pretend it never happened.”

At that J.T. pushed away from the bedpost and came to her, invading her personal space with delicious deliberate abandon, and she found her breath in short supply again.

When he was close enough to sink into those luscious lips, he quirked a cocky grin and said, “Honey, if you can keep your hands to yourself, so can I. But if you keep that pot on high, something's gonna bubble over.”

Appropriate metaphor. She wanted to stay strong, to remember all the reasons why it was a bad idea to get cozy with J.T., but that man had superhuman sex powers and it really wasn't fair.

He laughed. “See? You're doing it again.”

Hope startled. Good gravy, were her thoughts transparent? She swallowed and lifted her chin. “And what exactly am I doing?”

“Eyeing me like you want to eat me alive.”

Oh, damn.

Just the thought of that cock sliding inside her, pounding, demanding, made her shudder delicately with growing need.

“See?” he said softly before kissing her thoroughly. “That's what I'm talking about. You make it hard to be good. Actually...you just make it hard. Period.”

“Oh?” And when her hand drifted, of its own accord, to the growing bulge in his shorts, she lost all reason as to why this was a bad idea.

Suddenly, the idea of round two sounded like the best idea ever.

7

H
E
WAS
HEARING
what Hope was putting down and a part of him agreed wholeheartedly that tangling with a client was bad business, but the part of him that was in charge was like,
Shut the hell up and get out of my way.

There was no cycling down at this point. All he could do was hang on for dear life and hope they didn't crash and burn on the way down.

But Hope had nailed it—he was reckless, but right about now, as he was peeling the clothes from her luscious body, he couldn't count that as a weakness.

Her breasts were perfect globes with delicate dusky pink tips that begged to be sucked and teased, and he was happy to oblige.

The hardened nipples pebbled under his tongue as Hope moaned beneath him, wrapping her legs around his torso, capturing him as surely as he'd captured her.

They rolled and she landed on top, casting a saucy grin as she teased his cock with the heat of her slick folds. He wanted to push up into her, impale her with his length, but she prevented him by moving just out of reach.

Her laughter was like sultry music, a beat guaranteed to make him want her forever.

“Not so fast,” she purred, sliding down his body to take him into her mouth.

J.T.'s eyes fluttered shut on the pleasure of her warm mouth sucking and teasing, moving up and down the shaft with sensual, deliberate movements that sent him into space. The air in his lungs seized and he saw stars as she tenderly cupped his balls, the warmth of her hand a sweet contrast to the wicked things she was doing to the head of his cock, drilling the hole at the top with that clever tongue.

And just as he was about to burst, she stopped and climbed his body, settling her sweet core right at his greedy mouth, and he was more than happy to kiss those fragrant lips.

He gripped her ass with both hands as she ground herself against his face. His muffled moans filled the room as she gasped, crying out as he toyed with the little pleasure nub as surely as she'd played with him.

J.T. wanted her to shatter beneath his tongue, wanted to lap up her juices as she shuddered and quaked to her completion, but Hope, the little she-devil, had other plans.

Right before she came, she lifted herself off, crying, “Not yet!” and shimmied down to sink down on his cock, taking every inch with a satisfied groan that he echoed.

Was this heaven? Hope riding his cock as though there were no tomorrow?

God, yes.

The view was spectacular, better than any erotic dream he'd ever had.

Hell, better than any late-night porn.

Hope, in the throes of passion, was better than anything he could've imagined.

And it was all he needed to blast off like a rocket.

“Holy f—!”
The words were choked off by the intense pleasure rolling through him, crashing like buildings under demo until there was nothing left of his ability to think but ash and rubble.

Hope found her release and collapsed on top of him, her weight a wonderful pressure on his chest as she rasped deep gasping breaths, his cock still buried in her hot, pulsating core.

With the last bit of strength he had, he gave her one final push, and she shuddered again as her entire body tensed and she came again.

“Good God,” she said weakly. “I'll never get enough of that.”

She spoke the simple truth for them both.

Even if it was the worst thing to do...even if there was absolutely no future in their hooking up, they both knew that they'd bang each other senseless for as long as it was possible.

After that?

Hell, who knew.

They had to survive the next forty-eight hours first.

* * *

H
OPE
EYED
THE
rusty older-model truck and then looked back at J.T.

“Are you sure?” she asked in a low voice so as not to offend the driver Juan had managed to find. “It doesn't look...safe.”

“Beggars can't be choosers,” J.T. reminded her in an equally private tone as he helped her into the back. They settled onto the faded pillows and blankets, and J.T. smiled at Juan. “Let's just get to the airfield and then we'll figure out the next step.”

Hope nodded and handed Juan a hefty tip for his services. The boy's face split into a happy grin and he ran off, clutching the money.

“You know that was probably the equivalent of his entire month's wage,” J.T. said as the truck lumbered onto the highway. “His family will eat good tonight.”

“It's easy to forget how blessed we are when we're locked away in our ivory towers,” Hope murmured, thinking of the contents of her pack and how they could level a village like this within days. Innocent lives were at stake. She glanced at J.T., struck by how easily he took everything in stride, even the crappiest situation, and wished she could be like that.

J.T. had procured some sunglasses and was enjoying the wind in his hair. Of course, he looked incredibly sexy, instantly reminding her of what they'd done to each other all night.

How was it that this man—her complete opposite—had the power to take her breath away?

She clutched her pack a little more tightly, wondering what J.T. would think of her if he knew what exactly she was transporting.

Would he hate her?

If she weren't such a coward, she'd just tell him and let the chips fall where they may, but there was no way in hell she was going to do that.

Not only because it was a huge security risk, but because she feared his reaction.

It was stupid, but she couldn't bear the thought of J.T. looking at her with disgust.

Would it matter that she'd never anticipated that her research would be perverted from its original purpose in this way?

Of course not. There was a part of her that'd worried about the potential implications if it fell into the wrong hands, but she'd been too excited about the breakthroughs to listen to that niggling voice of doubt.

Now she wished she'd scrapped the project.

Maybe her boss would still be alive.

A tear threatened to escape and she turned her face away from J.T. so he wouldn't see her cry.

So many things she'd do differently.

But none of it mattered if she couldn't get the package to the facility.

That was what she needed to focus on.

The rest... Well, the rest was just noise.

* * *

J.T.
MUST
'
VE
DOZED
, not surprising since he hadn't gotten much sleep last night, but when he woke up, they were heading into a dirty, cramped part of the city that looked stuck in the past.

Dogs ran in the streets along with scraggly children wearing rags, and it was hard not to see the abject poverty everywhere.

It was a different world than most Americans were accustomed to, but his time in the military had exposed him to cultures vastly different from their own.

However, Hope was a different story.

He could see the worry in her expression as she saw children of all ages on the streets when they should've been in school. He didn't have to tell her that most of the street kids would never see the inside of a classroom and the cycle of poverty would continue.

The truck rumbled to a stop outside a grimy strip mall that didn't look safe at all, but their ride was over.

“The airport is that way,” the driver said in a thick accent, pointing west. He waited pointedly, eyeing Hope's pack, and she hastily gave him some cash.

“Thank you,” she murmured, shooting an uncertain look at J.T. as the driver took off. “Please tell me we didn't just ride four hours in the back of a truck to be murdered outside this building.”

“We need to find a place where I can buy a phone,” he said, trying to keep her focused. They stuck out like a sore thumb, practically wearing signs on their backs that said “Rob Me”, and he wasn't about to take any chances.

Although his first thought was that the driver had screwed them, he quickly realized that he'd actually done them a favor. “Look, there's an electronics store. They ought to have a phone I can buy. My brother is working on getting us a plane, but I need to be able to contact him.”

“When did you call your brother?”

“When we first got into Lacanjá.”

“Did you tell him anything about me?” Her voice held an anxious edge and he sensed it had everything to do with that pack and not with their hooking up. He would've preferred her anxiety be due to the hooking up for some reason.

“No, I didn't say anything. Just that you were a client and we ran into some trouble.”

“Good. Please keep it that way,” she said, visibly relieved. “Let's go find you a phone.”

He wanted to say something about her relief, but he kept his mouth shut. They had bigger fish to fry.

They walked into the small store, and as luck would have it, there was a wall of pay-as-you-go phones with international calling capabilities. Hope threw down her American Express card and they were good to go.

“Is there a limit to that thing?” he asked, curious. Hope didn't answer, just gave him a short smile. “All right, I get it. Anything associated with your work, your employer, that damn pack on your back is off-limits.”

“It's just better that way.”

“Better for who?”

“For us both.”

Somehow he doubted that, but now was not the time to pick at that particular issue.

“You call your brother and I'll go get some more cash,” she said, cinching up her pack, then pointing to the small bank across the street.

“I'll go with you,” he said, uncomfortable with the idea of Hope traipsing around with wads of cash in this neighborhood.

“It's just across the street. I'll be fine.”

“Look around, Hope. This isn't exactly Middle America. Don't be dumb. Dumb pretty ladies get snatched off the street and sold into slavery and it's not a
Pretty Woman
type story.”

Hope paled and quickly nodded. “Okay, maybe you're right. Except about the dumb part.”

“You're right—you're not dumb,” he corrected himself. “But you're damn stubborn and in the wrong situations that can be just as dangerous.”

“You've made your point,” Hope said, glowering. “Can we just go get some cash?”

He pocketed the phone and they hustled across the street to the small bank. Within a relatively short time, Hope had managed to procure a sizable amount of cash, which she promptly stuffed in her pack, out of sight, but J.T. was a bit leery of having all the cash in one spot. All it would take was an industrious thief to swipe her pack and all of their resources would disappear.

Still, he knew it was pointless to try to convince her otherwise, particularly when she was so paranoid about that damn pack, so he didn't waste his breath.

Outside the bank, J.T. called Teagan.

“J.T.?” Teagan answered. When J.T. confirmed it was him, Teagan's relief was evident in his tone. “Man, I was starting to sweat.”

“We lucked out and managed to find a store where I could buy a phone. I called you as soon as I could. Did you find us a plane?”

“Yeah, it took some string pulling, but I found a plane you can charter. It'll cost you, but you said your client has enough green?”

“Yeah,” J.T. answered. “She says her company will pay whatever it takes to get her to the facility.”

“Have you found out exactly what you're transporting?” The worry in Teagan's voice mirrored J.T.'s own growing anxiety about Hope's package. “I mean, you know something feels off about this. Why the hell were you getting shot at?”

He couldn't answer his brother, because he still didn't know. And he certainly couldn't go into detail about the situation with Hope standing right there listening to his every word.

“Who's my contact?” J.T. asked, changing the subject.

Teagan took the hint. “Your contact is Alejandro Ruiz. You'll find him at a private hangar at Comitán. He's agreed to take you to South America.”

“Good work. Thanks, bro. I owe you one.”

“Don't worry about that. Just come home alive. I've got a bad feeling about this.”

“You and me both,” he agreed in a low tone. “I'll be in touch.”

He hung up and pocketed the phone. “We're good to go. Our contact is Alejandro Ruiz and he's waiting for us at Comitán.”

Relief spread across Hope's features. “Thank God.” Impulsively, she lifted on her toes and brushed a kiss across J.T.'s lips. The sudden action startled them both and she immediately started apologizing. “I'm so sorry. That was inappropriate. I was just so happy...”

He knew the smart thing was to agree with her, but he liked kissing her and he liked that her first impulse was to kiss him.

J.T. ignored the voice of reason in his head and reached for her. “If you're going to do it, might as well make it worth your while, right?” And then he sealed his mouth to hers, drinking in the feel of her soft lips pressed against his, the taste of her tongue in his mouth. When he finally released her, she looked thoroughly well kissed, and it was a good look on her. Sexy as hell. But then, Hope didn't need any help in that department. He grasped her hand, saying, “Let's go. Time's wasting,” before she regained her sense and started blathering on about rules and appropriate behavior.

Because, honestly, he didn't want to hear it.

She didn't want to be honest about what was in that damn pack and he didn't want to stop kissing her.

They both had problems.