Love Under Two Flyboys [The Lusty, Texas Collection] Cara Covington (short story to read txt) 📖

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, asshole?”

“Saving your life.” Morgan levered himself up so he could get a good look at his captive. Short, reddish-brown hair in a soft-looking cap surrounded a pixie-like face. Her flashing hazel eyes snapped with fury and intelligence. Full, kissable lips called to him, a siren’s song of temptation. All of that was contained in a small, curvy feminine frame that felt lushly warm and scintillatingly sexy beneath him.

“Here’s a news flash for you, hot shot. I already saved my own damn life the moment I got the plane on the ground safely.”

The reality of having her under him hardened his cock. He narrowed his eyes as he considered her.

“You wouldn’t happen to know Kate Benedict, would you?” He glanced up at the sky from which this enticing female package had just fallen. He recalled the woman’s question to him when he’d told her that he and Henry could find their own mate. Damn it, Kate, what did you do, put a hex on us?

“Look, I don’t care if I remind you of this Kate Benedict or the big-breasted bimbo who broke your heart in high school. Get. Off. Of. Me. Now.”

Morgan realized there really was no reason to keep the woman pinned to the ground, despite the fact that laying on her felt pretty damn good. He began to lift himself off her at the same moment she tried to buck him off. The combined momentum resulted in their changing positions, with her ending up sprawled on top of him.

She scrambled, trying to get up, but ended up straddling him perfectly, with her crotch nestled snugly against his hardening erection. It was all Morgan could do not to groan out in pure pleasure.

He had to give her credit. She didn’t blush or stammer. What she did was push her hips down to let him know she felt his cock. Then she sent him a smirk.

“Just like a man, always thinking with the wrong head.”

Morgan opened his mouth to comment, but stopped when his brother came to stand next to them.

“Good news. I don’t think the engine is going to explode, after all.”

“Thank you for that update,” Morgan said. “I appreciate your assistance.”

Henry grinned at him. “You’re welcome.” Then he reached down and plucked the woman off him, holding her by the waist with her feet dangling several inches off the ground. “Why, you’re just an itty-bitty little thing, aren’t you, darlin’?”

“Aw, hell,” she said, “I’ve traveled back in time to the Stone Age. I never realized Neanderthals spoke English.”

Morgan gained his feet. “Not Neanderthals, sweetheart. Texans. There’s a world of difference.”

“Not from my point of view, and not at the moment,” she said.

Henry put the woman down. She didn’t run away, just turned, put her hands on her hips, and glared at them.

“Seems to me there’s a law here in Texas that says if something falls out of the sky and lands on your property, it’s yours,” Henry said.

“Pretty sure there is,” Morgan agreed.

The woman took one step forward, invading Morgan’s space. How astute of her to know that I’m the bigger threat. Her scowl turned fierce. The adage, small but mighty, popped into Morgan’s head.

“I don’t fucking think so.”

Damned if he didn’t really like her fire. It made him wonder how hot she’d burn, naked and between them. He flicked a glance at Henry and knew his brother was just as enthralled with her.

“We can debate the finer points of the law later. I’m Morgan Kendall, and this is my brother Henry. It’s our airfield you’ve landed on, Itty-Bitty.” Not completely true, as the field actually belonged to the Town Trust. But it would do for now.

“It’s not fair to make fun of people who are vertically challenged.” Her tone, all prim and proper, let him know her height, or rather her lack of it, was a sore point with her.

“Fine, then, I’ll call you Red.”

“I’m sticking with Itty-Bitty,” Henry said to him. “Kind of like the way it rolls off my tongue.”

The woman sighed and stepped back. “Tamara Jones. And trust me, landing on your airfield was not my first plan for the day.”

“Oh? What was?” Henry asked.

“Ferrying this piece of crap airplane from Abilene home to San Marcos. My uncle bought it from a friend of his. We’re going to open a crop-dusting business.”

“That’s a coincidence. Henry and I are starting a business, too.”

“You’re pilots? What do you fly?”

“Until recently, an F-16 Falcon,” Henry said.

“Air Force? You look too young to be jet jockeys,” Tamara said.

“Ha. Shows what you know, Red. We’re retired jet jockeys,” Morgan said.

“Awfully young to be retired, too.”

He couldn’t read the look she gave him then. So instead, he said, “Well, Ms. Jones, why don’t we have a look at this plane of yours? See if we can’t figure out what’s wrong with it. Then we can get you on your way.”

“You’re pilots and mechanics?”

“Trust me,” Henry said. “There’s absolutely no end to our talents, darlin’.”

“Trust you? I don’t even know you.”

Morgan gave her as heated a look as he could manage. “You’re going to know us both pretty damn well before too long. But for now, let’s have a look at that Piper.”

And then he walked toward the plane, leaving the woman, and his brother, to follow.

Chapter 2

I’m Texas born and bred, and still the arrogance of our men irks me.

Tamara would have thought she’d be used to it by now. Hell, how many noses had she been forced to bloody in high school before the good-old-boys there had backed off and kept their hands off her breasts and her ass?

She very nearly laughed thinking of it. The school sure hadn’t gotten the desired result when they’d told Uncle Goodwin about her “aggressive behavior.” He told them if they couldn’t control their randy young bucks, he could see no reason why his niece shouldn’t do it for them.

Tamara snapped back to the present and watched Morgan