the roar of the C-130 engines faded, Chance could hear the thwap-thwap of the helicopter rotors churning to life. The first bird lifted slowly into the air and hovered for a brief moment, silhouetted against the night sky before accelerating forward, directly above the spot where they sat.
Chance lay flat on his back and drew Jenna down beside him, turning his head to watch her as five Black Hawks thundered above them, the downward wash from their rotors stirring the grass and blowing Jenna’s hair around her face.
“Oh, man, I love that sound!” She shifted on the blanket to look at him, laughing, and Chance felt his breath catch.
Setting his cup of wine aside, he rose up on one elbow and used his free hand to tug a strand of hair loose from the corner of her mouth, where it had caught.
“Did you enjoy that?” he asked, when the racket of the helicopters had faded.
She gazed up at him, still smiling. “Oh, yeah.”
Her eyes were mysterious in the dim light, her mouth soft and lush. Her dark hair fanned out on the blanket beneath her head and Chance twined a silky lock of it around his finger. Beneath her blouse, her breasts rose and fell in an agitated way, betraying the fact that she wasn’t nearly as relaxed as she pretended to be.
“So what made you go to Shooters tonight?” he asked, idly rubbing the strand of hair between his fingers.
She made a small, shrugging motion. “I went with a friend, more out of boredom than anything else.”
He fastened his gaze on her mouth. “And are you bored now?”
“Getting there,” she said huskily, and moistened her lips. “You might have to do something about that. Any ideas?”
“Well, for starters, I really want to kiss you,” he confessed in a husky voice, studying her face.
“Thank God,” she breathed. Reaching up, she slid a hand to the back of his head and drew him down to her.
CHASE RAWLINS CLEARLY knew how to kiss, and enjoyed doing it. He leaned over her, cupping her face in his palm as his mouth leisurely explored hers. His lips were warm and firm and he tormented her with soft, lingering kisses as his thumb caressed her cheek.
Jenna really had gone too long without sex. What other reason could there be for the way her blood hummed through her veins, or the way his touch did crazy things to her already heightened senses? She was acutely conscious of how warm and solid he felt against her body. He tasted faintly of wine, and she breathed in the intoxicating blend of his aftershave, the warm, fusty odor of the woolen blanket and the crisp scent of the crushed grass beneath them. She wanted to devour him, but he kept his kisses frustratingly sweet, teasing her, but not giving her what she craved.
“Open your mouth,” she breathed against his lips, desperate to taste him.
He made a noise, something between a groan and sigh, and then his tongue was in her mouth, sliding against hers and ratcheting up her need. The hot, moist kiss triggered an answering rush of dampness between her thighs. She wanted to throw a leg across his hips and press herself against him. Instead, she squeezed her knees together and told herself to slow down. But when he deepened the kiss, Jenna couldn’t prevent sliding her arms around his broad shoulders and arching against him, telling him without words that she wanted more.
He grunted softly in approval, and before she knew what he intended, he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him until she lay sprawled across his chest, her legs tangled with his. Gasping, she eased away enough to look down into his face. In the indistinct light, his eyes seemed to glow in his tanned face, and his breathing came in hard pants.
“I’m too heavy for you,” Jenna protested. But when she would have pushed away, he restrained her.
“Are you kidding?” He sounded astonished. “You feel great.”
As if to emphasize his words, he thrust his fingers into her hair where it hung loose around her face and drew her back down, covering her mouth with his own. Jenna resisted for about a fraction of a second before the heat of his kiss caused her to melt against him. When he wedged a hard thigh between her legs, she instinctively rode it, savoring the friction against her center, where she pulsed hotly. He speared her tongue with his, in concert with the rocking of her hips against his leg. The sensation was amazing, but she wanted more.
Pulling back, Jenna straddled him. He shifted beneath her, until she was pressed fully against the hard ridge of his arousal.
“Oh, man, you feel good,” she said, bracing her hands on his chest and moving reflexively back and forth. The intimate contact created a fresh flood of moisture to saturate her panties, and her nipples felt tight and achy.
As if he knew what she needed, he reached up and covered her breasts with his hands. All the air escaped from her lungs in a soft rush of pleasure. Her back arched as his thumbs stroked across the distended nipples.
She was glad now that while he’d been in the store buying the wine, she’d slipped her dog tags off and pushed them into the pocket of her jeans. There was no doubt in her mind that this was going to get very intimate, very quickly. She could almost guess how he might respond if he saw the telltale evidence of her military service, and she didn’t need to have him ruin the moment by asking questions. She’d learned from experience that most men found her job as threatening as her height, so she avoided talking about it whenever possible.
Only her father seemed less than impressed with her chosen career. Part of the reason she’d opted to become an army helicopter pilot was to make him proud, although she’d never admit to him how much his opinion mattered, or how everything she did and even how she felt about other pilots could be traced right back to him. She could barely admit it to herself. She was a more than competent pilot, she knew that, yet she couldn’t seem to shake the sense that, no matter how good she was, she’d never be quite good enough. She’d worked twice as hard as any of the guys in her unit, and had achieved just as much, so why did she feel as if she was a disappointment to her father? And why did it matter so much? Aside from teaching her how to fly helicopters, he’d hardly taken any notice of her. She didn’t owe him anything.
“Tell me what you want,” he rasped. His face was taut as he watched her. “What you like.”
The small part of Jenna’s brain that still functioned knew she should stop, but the sensations coursing through her body were too intense. She needed more of the delicious contact. Covering his hands with her own, she encouraged his caresses even as she angled her hips for optimum friction.
“I like this,” she assured him. Her voice sounded husky and unfamiliar, even to herself. “But I want more.”
When her hands moved to the buckle of his belt, he made a sound like a helpless groan and caught her wrists.
“Wait.”
Jenna’s hands stilled. His features were all hard angles in the dim light and she silently berated herself for having moved too fast. When would she learn that not all men appreciated women who took the initiative? “What is it?”
“I want you to know that I didn’t bring you out here for this. I mean, I’d hoped, of course—” He gave her a lopsided grin. “But it wasn’t something I’d planned on. I just wanted you to know.”
Jenna felt a smile tug at her mouth. She hadn’t expected him to be so considerate,
