Fighting for Flight JB Salsbury (room on the broom read aloud .TXT) 📖

I picture myself in some ridiculous position which only antagonizes my nerves.

Think sexy. No giggling.

I breathe deep, and visions of Jonah quiet my thoughts. I welcome the sultry voice of Ella Fitzgerald and the smell of lightly scented candle wax to soothe my frazzled nerves.

I hear the click of the bedroom door as it opens then softly closes. Still on my stomach, my arms folded under my head, I turn to see him and almost choke.

Jonah’s in nothing but a pair of black pajama pants. They hang low on his hips exposing the v of his lower abdominal muscles, dusted with dark hair. Holy crud. His inky black hair is spiked with moisture. He must have taken a shower in the guest bathroom. Kaleidoscopic arms, bulging with muscle, tense at his sides, I gawk at his masculine body then settle on his smiling face. His hazel eyes move over me in a visual caress, causing a tremor of need to vibrate beneath my skin.

“Fuck. You look so sexy right now.” His deep voice and dirty talk have me trembling.

My eyes lock on his as he crosses the room to the bed.

“You take my breath away.” His penetrating gaze roams over every inch of my form. “Don’t move. Stay just like that.”

I obey, and he disappears to the foot of the bed. What’s he doing?

The mattress dips at my feet just before I feel the warmth of his hands cover my calves. Using them to guide him, he slowly climbs up my body until he straddles my hips. The fabric of his cotton pants brushes my exposed skin. I take a deep breath and relax as the tips of his fingers run along the edge of my panties at my back.

“These are my favorite.” His fingers trace from one hip to the other.

“I bought them just for you. I thought you’d like them.”

“I fuckin’ love ’em.” He flexes his hips into the space between my legs, his blatant arousal making me gasp. “Can’t you tell?”

“Um, yeah, I can.” Nervous giggles creep up from my chest and tickle my throat. Don’t giggle!

He traces the line of my tattoo from my hip to my shoulder. My skin tingles and goose bumps break out across my flesh. The bed dips by my head, and he nips at the shell of my ear. I inhale citrus and spice, swirling my senses and igniting a fire in my belly.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your tattoo?” His mouth travels along the side of my throat where he kisses at his spot.

My head tilts to the side to welcome his attention. His soft lips follow the line of birds, gently kissing and licking until he’s back at my hip. A pleasured moan rises from my chest.

“You like that, baby?” he asks against my skin.

I arch my back, lifting my bottom up and into his chest. He slides his hand beneath the lace and cups one cheek, squeezing and molding it in his hand while his mouth continues its torture.

“Jonah, I want to see you.” My words finish on a whimper.

“Not yet. I’m not finished playing with you.”

I’m so turned on already I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when he’s finished playing with me.

His large hands move back up to massage my shoulders with gentle pressure. Having never been touched this way before, my body responds in new and unfamiliar ways. I melt into the bed. A glorious tingling starts at my chest working its way through my veins and heating my blood.

His slow powerful strokes work down my back. I feel small and delicate under his expert touch. Hands, lips, tongue, and teeth, all stimulate my hunger. I’m panting and greedy. My moans combine with the soft music filling the room, creating an erotic symphony.

“Jonah, I can’t take much more.” I move to roll over, but Jonah presses his chest into my back, caging me to the bed with his weight. His arms rest close to my face and I barely hold back the desire to lean over and trace the tattoos on his biceps with my tongue.

“My girl’s eager.” He rocks his hips into me.

An embarrassing whine flies from my lips, and I grind back into him. Intimate parts of my body request, no, beg for his attention.

“You keep that up. This will be over before it begins.” He nips at my neck, soothing his tender bites with slow sweeps of his tongue. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get to that. First, we need to talk.”

My body freezes and I twist my neck to look at him.

“Talk? I don’t want to talk.” I sound like a child forced to eat her vegetables.

How sexy is that?

He bites his lip, fighting a smile. “We have to. I know you’re on the pill, so birth control is taken care of, right?”

My face falls into my folded arms to hide my pink cheeks.

“Yes. How did you . . .” Stupid question. He’s seen me take them. “Never mind.”

The only parental thing my mom ever did was take me to get put on the pill at sixteen. She probably thought I’d end up just like her. Gah! I don’t want to think about this now.

“Here’s the thing. I’ve never had sex without a condom. I’ve also never made love to a woman before. How would you feel about me not wearing one?”

“Ugh! Jonah, you’re seriously killing the moment here.” I speak my muffled complaint into the pillow.

“What? I’m being thorough. It’s your first time and I want it to be good for you. I think going bareback would be better. But I won’t do it without your permission.”

“Bareback?”

“Without a condom.”

I’ve had fantasies about what my first time with Jonah would be like. In all my versions of this moment, I never had a conversation that involved the word bareback. This reminder of Jonah’s sexual experience to my lack thereof is off-putting. But I love him and I believe he loves me. There’s no doubt in my