Jill Shalvis - Aussie Rules

And in that moment, it changed for her. Somehow she went from frantic to warm and fuzzy, soft. He was breathing hard, shaking, and she knew what to do. “It’s okay,” she whispered, stroking her hands up his chest, feeling his hot, damp muscles jerk beneath her touch. “Let me.”

“Let you what-”

She shoved hard and he fell off the couch, but she fell with him, rolling so that he landed on his back, with her straddling him.

“Jesus.”

“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly, running her hands up his arms. She’d dislodged him from inside her body but she could feel him, hot and silky hard pressing against her. “Did I hurt you?”

“You’re killing me.” He groaned when she slid down his body and wrapped her fingers around his hot and silky length. “Killing me.”

“Shh.” Smiling at how she’d finally shushed him, she leaned close, letting her hair fall and graze his belly, his thighs, eliciting another groan from deep in his throat, which turned into a strangled sound of immense pleasure when she took her tongue on a tour over him, from base to tip. “Mmm,” she said, and did it again.

The sound that escaped him was half-laugh, half a desperate plea. “Mel.”

She could hear his need, and lowered her head to fulfill it. It didn’t take long, he was hard and hot and primed to go, and watching him, listening to him surrender to his body’s need as he came, gave her far more pleasure than she could have imagined.

Afterward, the only sound as they lay flat on their backs was their ragged breathing.

“I don’t know whether to thank you or apologize,” he finally managed.

Sitting up, she smiled. She felt him eye her as she began to straighten her clothes. She still had one boot on. Leaning in, he helped her with the knot, then he stood, staggering for balance before he righted his own clothes and zipped up his jeans. “Before you kick me out, we were going to talk.”

Body still humming, she blinked. “Kick you out?”

“You tend to do that.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

He sat heavily on the couch and looked at her. “I’ve got more information. I’m going to tell you now, if you can handle it.”

“And if I can’t?”

“I’m going to tell you anyway.”

“Ah.” She nodded as her lingering pleasure faded away. “So the lease was, what, a peace offering? A way to loosen me up?”

“Maybe a little of both.”

“Nice.”

“I never pretended to be nice, Mel.”

No, but oddly enough, he was. Or at least he wasn’t quite as badass as he’d let her believe. “And what do you call what we just did?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, if you want the truth.” He pulled her down beside him. “How about a game of truth or dare without the dare? Truth: I came here to see Sally, but that’s never going to happen. Is it, Mel?”

She looked into his eyes and felt the foundation of her world crack.

“See, I’ve been researching Sally on the net,” he said. “Interesting thing. She’s vanished. And she vanished a long time ago.”

“Well…” Mel winced. “Sort of.”

He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes dark, reproachful. Hurt, damn it. “You let me think she was on a trip, that she’d be coming back.”

“I never actually said a trip.”

“Why don’t you actually say then?”

She paused, but knew she had to tell him everything. “I don’t know where she is.”

“So you’ve said. Now say more.”

“I planned on telling you,” she said. “I told Dimi I was going to tell you.”

“So tell already.”

“She used to call in every month or so. But it’s been awhile, and when I called her, she didn’t get back to me.” She grimaced. “And…”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “And…?”

“And now her cell phone has been disconnected.”

“So you’ve lost touch completely,” he said flatly. “That’s convenient.”

“But true.”

He sighed, and she knew he was frustrated as hell. “And you’re getting e-mails, vaguely threatening e-mails.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

Tension radiated off him in waves. “From Sally?”

“I don’t know.”

Disbelief flashed in those jade eyes. Disbelief that she’d allowed this, that he couldn’t do anything about it. “And you didn’t feel the need to mention any of this sooner why?”

Mel chewed on her lip.

“Mel.”

“Because I didn’t trust you.”

He stared at her. “Jesus.” He surged to his feet, shoved his fingers through his hair, and turned in a slow circle. “I have no idea why that hurts.” He swore softly, then shook his head. Turning, he headed toward the door.

She leapt to her feet. “Bo, wait.”

“Can’t,” he said curtly.

“But you said you’d found something else.”

He laughed a little harshly. “That I did. But I don’t think I’ll be sharing it.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not going to tell me?”

“Give the girl an A.”

“I want to hear it, Bo.”

“I bet you do. But it seems we were playing truth or dare all along, and I’ve just joined the game. I pick dare.”

“I wanted to tell you sooner,” she murmured. “But-”

“Too late.” When he looked at her, all of his hunger and desire was gone, replaced by the same mocking amusement she’d seen in the beginning. “I keep forgetting, I’m on my own.”

He shut the door quietly behind him.

Mel stared at the wood, her throat tight, her pulse points still randomly jumping from the amazing sex.

The most amazing sex in her entire life.

“Happy birthday to me,” she whispered, and the words echoed around her mockingly.

Bo stalked through the airport the next morning, cultivating what some might call a bad attitude. Yeah, he’d gotten off last night, and yeah, that should have mellowed him, but she’d been holding back on him, his Mel. Why that was surprising, he had no idea, but the opposite of mellow had happened. He was looking for trouble now and he knew it, but he’d wasted nearly two weeks doing what he’d said he wouldn’t.

Trusting.

His gut-and more computer research-told him Sally wasn’t coming back, that the money and plane were long gone, and if that was the case, then there was really nothing to be done except for taking over North Beach, fixing it up so that he could sell, and getting the hell out of Dodge.

He thought of how Mel would react to that, how hurt and destroyed she’d be, and he ruthlessly shoved it aside because he didn’t care. She had the lease he’d foolishly given her, she’d be fine. Everyone else, if they were good at their jobs, would be fine, too.

But from the far end of the lobby came Mel’s voice, and just like that, heat flooded through his body, pooling between his thighs, pissing him off because she’d gotten under his skin.

“I can assure the both of you,” she was saying, “that two pilots are not needed for this flight.”

Bo came around the corner to see her facing a man and a woman, both dressed like a million bucks, looking out at a Lear Jet on the tarmac. “I’ve flown from here to San Francisco hundreds of times,” Mel said to them. “It’s a simple, pleasurable trip.”

The couple was already shaking their heads. They were in their fifties, and judging from the sheer brilliance of the woman’s bling alone, they were big money. New money.

“Our usual jet has two pilots,” the woman said. “Plus a flight attendant to see to our needs.”

Mel stood there in her leather bomber jacket and black pilot pants that showed off her long, lean, tough length, pride warring with tact. “I understand your usual charter service is down, which is what brought you here. But Anderson Air doesn’t provide the same sort of service as Diamond Skies, and as a result, we’re far more affordable. Now if I could just board you-”