Superb and Sexy (Sky High Air Book 3) Read online

  Pulling free, Maddie rolled to her back to stare at the ceiling, ignoring the slight twinge of regret at the horror in his voice. No, they weren’t eloping. They weren’t even particularly getting along, unless it was in bed.

  Where they somehow managed to get along pretty damn fine.

  “I already promised to call you if we need you,” he said. “Now go take a flight or a breath or something.” He shut the phone.

  She could feel him looking at her, now on the far side of the bed.

  And looking.

  He wanted to talk. She did not. She lay there, very still, thinking if she only waited, he’d fall asleep again. Because hey, that’s what guys did after wild monkey sex—they slept.

  After a moment, she slowly turned her head in his direction, and damn, didn’t he look mighty fine all rumpled, sleepy-eyed, and naked.

  And very awake.

  The sheet had slipped, affording her a very nice view from his Adam’s apple to his belly, which she wanted to lick like a lollipop.

  And lower, too.

  Being with him had been every bit as good as she had imagined. Fast, searing…perfect. When she’d come, she’d released all that terrible pent up tension. Now maybe she could use any lingering energy for something else entirely…

  Like saving her sister’s ass.

  “You’re going to fall off the bed,” he noted.

  “I’m good.” She needed distance.

  Lots of distance.

  He was still just watching her with those mesmerizing eyes, scratching his jaw as if considering a particularly vexing puzzle, his fingers rasping against the growth of his unshaved jaw. Then he crooked a finger at her.

  Come here.

  No. No, no, no, that would be a bad idea.

  Very bad.

  But her brain apparently wasn’t in charge because her body obeyed, scooting close, and then his arms pulled her in, and then, oh, God, he pressed his face into her hair and inhaled deeply. “You smell good, Mad. You always smell good.”

  “Stop.” Her voice was shockingly weak. Fall back to sleep.

  He dipped his head down, pressing his mouth to her throat so that she could feel his lips move against her skin. “So damn good.”

  “Seriously.” Why wasn’t he sleeping? Maybe the bigger question was, why wasn’t she shoving him away? Instead, she arched her neck to give him better access, loving how big and hard and warm he felt. After arriving here, she’d been cold, icy cold, but that had vanished lying next to him.

  His hands swept down her body, urging her closer, then closer still so that she could feel that he was not sleepy, not even close. “We’re not doing it again.”

  “Okay.” One hand squeezed her bottom, then slipped between her legs, and she realized.

  They were doing it again. “Brody—”

  She’d have sworn she had nothing left in the tank, and yet when his fingers stroked her, she shivered in need and let her legs fall open. “I mean it. We’re not—”

  Another stroke, unerring and sure.

  The man had talented fingers, and after yet another stroke, she admitted the truth.

  She was going down with the ship. “Okay, maybe just one more time,” she whispered, breathless as he worked his magic. Her fingers dug into his biceps as she clung to him, her world spinning, the pinnacle centering between her legs. “But only once.”

  He scraped his teeth over her shoulder, and she shuddered as his dark head made its way toward a breast.

  “And it’s going to be my way this time,” she managed. “Fast.” She tried to tug him over her, where she would have pulled him deep inside and had a go at round two, but he resisted.

  “Not fast. We just did fast. We’re going to take our time.” He punctured every few words with a kiss as he began to move down her body. Her neck, her shoulder, the scar where the bullet had shattered her collarbone. He spent a long moment there, then just below, where the curve of her breast began…“I want to taste you, Maddie. Every single inch of you.”

  Oh, no. No way. If they weren’t going to jump each other’s bones and knock it out in a timely fashion, then—

  He sucked a nipple into his hot, wet mouth, and she nearly arched right off the bed. In spite of herself, her body was responding. Her nipples were pebbled tight, and she was getting wet. Again. “Damn it, Brody.”

  He let her nipple pop out of his mouth and went for her other one.

  “Brody Allen West.”

  “You’re middle naming me?” Sounding amused but undeterred, he began kissing his way down her belly, his mouth hot and wet, not moving fast at all, nothing so easy as that.

  She fisted her hands in the sheets at her sides. “Yes, and I’ll do it again if you’re going to drag this out.”

  Lifting his head, he smiled, pure wickedness in his gaze and voice. “My way,” he repeated firmly.

  Her stomach quivered at all the wicked, naughty promise in his eyes. But she couldn’t go there emotionally. Couldn’t. She was tapped out. Fast was all she had, so she pushed him aside and then climbed on top.

  From flat on his back, he grinned up in pleasure at her and cupped her breasts.

  She lifted up her hips to draw his most impressive erection inside her, but he pulled back and shook his head. “I’m not ready yet.”

  Arching a brow, she looked down at what was currently filling both hands. Impressive and quite ready.

  “Yeah, that’s because with you, I’m always hard as a damn rock.” Then, just as she had, he rolled her beneath him and held her there.

  “Okay, listen.” She tried a smile. “Maybe we should just go to sleep. I’m going to need to get a few hours before I stop Leena—”

  “From what exactly?” He slid a finger into her, groaned at the heat and slickness he found, and licked her nipple. “That meeting, yes. But what’s on Stone Cay?”

  “The compound—” Her impending orgasm, the one barreling down on her like a freight train without brakes, was currently curling her toes and evidently, also loosening her damn tongue.

  Not that Brody seemed to notice. He simply worked his unhurried way to her other breast, his fingers still driving her directly to bliss without passing Go.

  “Compound?” he murmured against her skin, making his way south, leaving a hot, wet trail over her torso with his tongue. “Like a family compound?”

  “Yes. Sort of. Brody—”

  “So this Rick is…”

  God, his fingers. He was in charge, controlling her like a puppet, and desperate to gain some of that control back, she gave as good as she got, stroking him, eliciting a rough, husky breath from him. In the interest of speeding this along, she did it again.

  “Rick,” he managed with what sounded like some difficulty. “He’s…”

  “Our uncle.”

  “A real asshole?”

  “A real asshole,” she agreed, arching up into his touch. His mouth was gentle, so damn gentle, as he ran it over her body.

  “Did he ever hurt you?”

  “No, he never dirties his hands himself.”

  He kissed a rib, and then another. “What does that mean?”

  “He has his men do everything for him.”

  “I have to tell you, Mad. I don’t think I’m going to like your family.”

  That tore a laugh out of her. “No. You won’t. Now are you taking this somewhere or what?”

  “Or what.” He kissed her belly, then lifted his head and looked at her a long moment, his gaze softening. “Why would Rick threaten your safety?”

  “It’s complicated. Brody, we’re in the middle of something here. In case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I haven’t.” His fingers proved that by dragging another soft gasp from her. “So what’s your plan for after you get Leena?”

  “Brody—”

  “I know. I’m multitasking. Humor me.” He settled a big, warm hand on her inner thigh and nudged it over as if she wasn’t opened enough to him already. “God, look at you,” he