Fighting for Flight by JB Salsbury

Author:JB Salsbury
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: tattoos, alpha male, mma fighting
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Raven

I shiver as cool air washes over my back all the way down to my thighs. Surfacing from my deep sleep, I reach for the blanket to ward off the cold when I feel something warm pleasantly teasing my hip. Little by little, the cold is chased away and a tingling heat moves through my body. I blink my eyes open, aware of the slight shifting of the bed and the soft touch that makes its way up my back. Jonah. Like last night, he’s kissing a trail along the path of my tattoo.

Last night! My eyes pop open as impassioned memories tear their way through my sleep. I lost my virginity. A giggle erupts from my throat.

He smiles against my shoulder. “Tickle?” His deep, gravelly voice against my skin raises goose bumps down my arm.

“Mmm, no. Feels good.”

“You’re laughing.”

Shaking my head, I refuse to divulge my schoolgirl thoughts.

“I didn’t think waking up to you in my bed could get any better. But waking up to you, with your hot little body, naked and pressed against mine?” He nibbles and licks at his spot on my neck. “The shit dreams are made of.” Groaning, he pushes himself up to my ear. “I hate to leave you like this, but I have a phone interview. Go back to sleep, baby. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Interview? But it’s still dark out.”

“Mm-hmm.” His face is buried in my neck and his fingers graze my breasts.

I moan and arch my back, pressing into him.

“Fuck.” The word rumbles against my skin. “Don’t move. I want to get right back to this when I’m finished.”

With one last kiss to my shoulder, I feel him get out of bed. I hear him slide on his drawstring pants. “Stupid fucking interview.” He shuts the bedroom door behind him.

One deep, contented sigh later, my eyes drift close.

~*~

Jonah

“This sucks,” I say under my breath as I drop down into my desk chair in my home office.

I check the clock. Five fifteen in the morning. I sip my coffee and curse my publicist for setting up these interviews.

I’m at my desk when I should be wrapped around Raven. My girl’s flawless bare body molded to mine, surrounded by her smell, it was nearly impossible to walk away.

I log into my email and open the one from my publicist. This is the absolute worst part of being a fighter, the publicity shit. Some guys get off on it, but most of us hate it. The radio station interviews are the lesser of the publicity evils. At least I get to do it from home in my flannel pants. If I had my cell I could do this from my bed with Raven in my arms. I shake my head and make a note to get myself a new phone first thing.

Scanning the email, looking for the number, I notice I’m fifteen minutes late. I shrug. Fuck ’em. I made love for the first time in my life to the girl of my dreams. They can wait.

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