Chapter 42

42

DEAN

W e woke up in each other's arms, and if I had it my way, I would have stayed just like that all day. But life interrupted even the most perfect moments. The sun was already up, casting a warm glow over the tangled mass of our bodies under the crumpled sheets.

I watched her as she slept. The steady rhythm of her breath rising and falling made my heart swell with something more than just carnal desire. What the hell was I doing with this woman? I think she knew I pretty much organized this London trip just to get her alone. Back home, it was easy enough to write off as training, but we could train anywhere. There was no rhyme or reason for us to be in London.

Except I wanted to be. And I wanted to be here with her. It was hard to really be with her when there were thousands of eyes to witness us and hundreds of mouths ready to spread gossip.

Here in London, it was different. It was just the two of us, lost in a city where no one knew us, and we could live out our fantasies without worrying about wrecking our lives or upsetting her father.

I traced my fingers gently down her arm, careful not to wake her. She looked angelic in sleep, so peaceful and innocent. It was hard to reconcile this image with the passionate, fiery woman of last night. I could still feel her touches, taste her kisses on my lips.

This little angel in bed with me was very different than the little spitfire that walked around picking fights with men twice her age. This sweet creature that could handle a plane and make my toes curl. How was so much power packed into one tiny, little perfect body?

A contented sigh slipped past her parted lips as she unconsciously moved closer to me, snuggling into my chest. My heart clenched at how perfect this moment felt. I dropped a light kiss on her forehead. Her eyelashes fluttered. With a soft sigh, she opened her eyes and looked directly at me.

"Morning," she mumbled sleepily, nuzzling deeper into my chest. The sound of her voice sent a rush of heat coursing through me.

"Morning," I replied softly, my fingers running through her messy hair. "You look beautiful."

"I don't even want to know what I look like. And I'm sure my breath is equally horrible."

"Would I lie to you?" I grinned. "You're gorgeous."

She smiled back at me, her lips pouty and swollen from our passionate night. I couldn't resist leaning down and kissing her.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"I have no idea," I replied. "The time zone thing always messes with me. I haven't set my watch."

"Can we stay in bed?" she asked.

"Funny, that was exactly my thought."

"But really, can we?" She yawned.

"I have us scheduled for a flight," I reminded her. "Remember, we're supposed to be here training."

She groaned. "This is why I don't have a boyfriend."

"Excuse me?"

"This. You. This bed. This is why I haven't let myself have a boyfriend all these years."

"Why is that?" I asked.

She let out a long sigh, snuggling against me with her mouth in the crook of my neck. "Because right now, I'm thinking about being here in bed with you rather than flying. Never before have I ever had to consider whether I wanted to fly or hang out with a man."

"And now?"

"And now the idea of being in bed with you is so much more appealing." She groaned. "All of this hardness and sexiness in one body is just cruel."

I chuckled low in my throat at that, pulling her closer to me. "Well, I suppose I should be flattered that I've become a distraction to even the most serious pilots," I teased.

She laughed and pushed her fingers through my bed-tousled hair. "You're quite the distraction. That's not a good thing, so don't feel like it's a compliment. I'm really not happy about it. I don't want a distraction. I don't want to want to be in bed with you instead of ten-thousand feet above the ground."

My hands wandered down her back, tracing the curve of her spine and stopping at the dip of her waist. She shivered slightly and pushed herself even closer, if it was even possible. The feeling of our bodies smashed together was intoxicating, skin against skin, heartbeat against heartbeat.

"What does flying give you that I can't?" I asked in a sultry voice.

Her body stiffened for a moment, then relaxed again into my arms. She tilted her head back and looked at me, her eyes sparkling with something I'd never seen before. "Freedom," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Freedom?" I echoed.

"When I'm up in the air, nothing else matters," she explained. "It's just me and the plane, the endless blue sky, and the world below. There's a clarity there that's hard to find on the ground. It's like—" She paused, searching for the right words. "It's like the world turns silent, and everything else fades away, leaving only what truly matters."

I considered her words, completely understanding what she meant. My love of flying broke my marriage. I knew every feeling she was having. I chose my love of soaring through the air over the woman I proclaimed to love.

"And when you're with me?" I asked. I knew there was no way I could compete with the feeling of flying. I felt like I was pretty good at sex, but nothing really compared to a jet. Nothing I had found at least.

She turned to face me, her eyes soft with a vulnerability she often hid. I felt like I was pretty special because I got to see it. I knew for sure she didn't show it to anyone else.

"When I'm with you, it's different. There's a passion, an intensity, that I've never known before. It's like discovering a whole new kind of freedom. There's the freedom of flying and there's the freedom of being able to be honest in your personal life. Right now, I'm being honest with myself."

"But it's a distraction," I said, repeating her earlier sentiment.

"Yes," she confessed with a small smile. "But maybe it's not."

"You think I'm more than a distraction?" I asked.

She was silent for several seconds. "I don't know," she answered after several seconds.

I didn't want to ruin this by getting into the weeds about what we were or were not. I wanted to be in this moment with her. I wasn't looking for a commitment. I was good with things being exactly what they were.

"We should shower and get ready for the day," I said.

She groaned. "I really am liking this whole sleeping with you, and I don't mean just the sex. I mean sleeping and snuggling. It's weird."

I laughed. "Let's not analyze. Get your fine ass up and dressed. Flight suit today."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir."

We ordered room service and dressed in our flight suits. Our breakfast was light, given what we were about to do. Today wasn't going to be all smooth sailing. This was the kind of training that would test her limits. She was going to learn what it was like to encounter real danger.

We headed to the airstrip, ready to do what we came here to do.

Sarah's excitement was palpable, and I fed off her energy. This was what she lived for. Seeing her in her element was a privilege. I was lucky I got to be the guy that helped her get even better.

Once we were in the T6, I settled into the backseat and let Sarah take the lead. This was her show. I trusted her completely. She communicated effortlessly with ground control, her voice steady and confident. Every interaction was smooth. We took off, climbing into the skies like a bird spreading its wings. Her hands moved fluidly over the control panel, adjusting our path with precision.

"Okay," she said, her voice echoing through the radio in my headset. "Now for the real test."

"Don't get too cocky," I warned.

I heard a small snort, knowing she was getting a kick out of being in control. She skillfully started pushing the plane to its limits. She handled a sudden shift in weather with the ease of a seasoned pilot. A small mishap with her navigation system didn't faze her. She corrected course without breaking a sweat.

I was more than impressed. Watching her in action was a revelation. Her competence and poise were undeniably attractive. Sexy. Hot. I couldn't deny the growing admiration—and desire—I felt for her.

"Permission to request additional flight time," I called in, keeping my voice steady.

"Permission granted," came the reply.

"You think I need more practice?" she asked calmly.

"Let's try some of those maneuvers we talked about," I suggested.

"Roger that."

She pushed the T6 harder, diving and turning with a devil-may-care attitude that made my pulse race. Her control was impeccable. She handled the aircraft with a finesse that was breathtaking. My heart pounded, but it wasn't out of fear. I realized there wasn't a woman alive who could make my heart beat so erratically. Sarah made me feel alive, both in the cockpit and out of it. I was becoming addicted to her, and it scared me.

As we reached top speeds and Sarah unleashed the full power of the T6, reality closed in on me. My mind spun out of control, grappling with the truth. She was my close friend's daughter, and I was in way too deep. There was only one way this could end—badly. Either Sarah and I would break our own hearts by calling this off, or Mo would find out and implode, potentially taking her and me down with him.

After some wild flying, it was time to return to earth. We landed smoothly. Sarah handled the descent with her usual precision. As she taxied to the hangar, I couldn't shake the turmoil in my mind. Sarah glanced back at me, her eyes questioning.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sensing my unease.

"We need to talk," I said, my voice strained. "Somewhere private."

She agreed, a playful glint in her eyes. "Sure. A closet, maybe?" She giggled, thinking this was leading to another stolen moment.

But I couldn't laugh. This was serious. We walked away from the hangar, both of us maintaining a proper distance to avoid anyone noticing the fact we were too friendly. After all, I was her instructor. She was my student. There could be nothing between us. We found a secluded spot on the base, away from prying eyes. As soon as we were alone, she moved to kiss me, but I gently stopped her.

"No." I shook my head.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Did I make you sick? Are you a little green?"

She was teasing, something I had come to enjoy doing with her. But that had to end.

"We need to talk about this before we go back to Columbus," I said, my heart heavy.

"Talk about what?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Us," I replied, the weight of the word settling between us like a leaden anchor.

She looked at me, her expression shifting from confusion to concern. "What do you mean?"