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

grips my hip then slides his hand down to where I need it most. I groan and roll my hips into his hand.

He stills. I smile.

“All night?” His voice is dark and hungry.

“Yes, all night.” My answer is spoken through the satisfied smile that pulls at my lips.

His eyes lock on mine, wide and fascinated.

“What? You didn’t expect me to wear panties with this dress, did you? It’s too low cut in the back. I had to go commando.” Who knew something as simple as not wearing panties could give me so much power? And power over someone as strong and commanding as Jonah is a potent aphrodisiac.

“That would have saved us a whole lot of trouble tonight. If I had known you were naked under that dress, I can guarantee you wouldn’t have seen Camille or your mom. Hell, you wouldn’t have seen much outside of my sheets.”

I place a soft kiss against his lips and stand. His eyebrows drop low as he watches me with rapt attention. I turn my back to him, but peek over my shoulder and wink. He stares at me, a helpless look on his face.

Yes!

I slip a strap off my shoulder, making sure to keep my eyes locked on his. He licks his lips. I turn and glance over my other shoulder before sliding that strap down. His fists flex against his massive thighs. Inch by inch, I drop the dress lower in a lazy striptease. His eyes glaze over beneath heavy lids as I reveal the backside of my naked body in painstakingly slow steps.

Finally, with the dress pooling around my feet, I step out of the silken fabric. I’m left standing in my high heels. And nothing else.

Jonah rises to his feet. Still with my back to him, I’m attacked by a moment of self-consciousness and cup my breasts to hide them from his view.

He steps behind me. I can feel the heat from his body and smell the spice of his cologne, but he’s not touching me.

“Turn around,” he demands gently.

My head swivels his way, followed by my body. The clicking of my shoes against the marble floor is the only sound in the room next to my quickened breath.

His eyes take me in from hair to heels. With a feather light touch, he removes my hands from my breasts. “No hiding.”

He runs his fingers from my hand, to my shoulder. They continue their journey down my spine to my bottom. I suck in a breath as he traces the line down between my legs and back up leaving a trail of heat that pools in my belly. He walks in a slow circle around me, never breaking his fingers contact with my flesh, skating around to my stomach, my hip, and back while he walks.

His gaze is dark and predatory as he stalks me. Gorgeously sculpted muscles painted in brilliant colors catch and reflect the light. I stare at him unabashed, watching his reflection in the mirror when his circle is complete and he’s stopped behind me. His silence speaks volumes while he takes in my form.

“Leave the shoes on.” The jagged edge to his voice sends a delicious tremble up my spine.

I turn toward him and grab the waist of his slacks. The evidence of his arousal is pressing against his fly, pushing the fabric past capacity. I run my fingers along his length, feeling steel beneath wool. His hips flex into my touch.

“Jonah—”

“Step back, baby.”

I move back until the cold granite presses against my backside. His hands grip my waist and lift, setting me on the countertop. The heat from his kiss and warm hands at my breasts erase the chill of the icy rock against my bare skin.

He presses himself between my legs, gripping my hips with impatience. I fumble with his belt and zipper, his breath escaping on a hiss when I finally release him. I gasp as he slides a hand between my legs, forcing a tremble of need to slither down my spine.

“Jonah, the bed. Now.” His barely-there touch and gentle coaxing has me begging for his possession.

A flash of his one-dimple smile and heavy eyelids almost push me to the edge. He works between my legs with magical fingers. With my hands braced behind me, I press against his hand.

“Not going to the bed, baby. I want to watch us.”

His words are confusing, but I’m too lost in the sensations to ask for explanation. My heart races; pleasure coils deep in my belly. A moan falls from my lips. He moves his hand, and I miss it for a second before I feel his heat press against me.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He buries himself deep and captures my mouth. With one thrust, my vision explodes in Technicolor sparks. Tingling shards of ecstasy flood my body. I call out his name, rolling my hips and riding out my release. He covers my neck and shoulder in wet kisses. Caught up in my free fall, I wrap my legs around his waist and rock against him, greedy for more.

“So fucking pretty.” He runs his hands from my hips to my knees and behind him to my calves. “Love your shoes, baby. I want to feel them digging into my back. Wrap me tight.”

A sagging puppet at his mercy, I lock my ankles behind his back. He braces his hands on the counter’s edge, putting distance between our torsos. I watch in fascination as his eyes lower to our connection. I turn to our reflection in the mirror at the end of the double-sink countertop.

The visual of our bodies loving each other in an erotic rhythm has me memorized. His multi-colored biceps contract. Abdominal muscles ripple with every flex of his hips. My body sways in time with each delicious thrust, back and forth in waves.

For the first time, I see myself the way Jonah sees me: sexy, alluring, and even tempting. My long legs, tipped with stilettos, are wrapped tightly around his waist. Our eyes meet