CHAPTER EIGHT
LIAM
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Fuck. Fucking fuck.
That was going well until I slid my fingers around Jessie’s neck and the desire to kiss her almost stole all my self-control. I’m talking split fucking seconds.
I’m still not sure if I want to shoot Perez or buy him a car. I’m leaning heavily towards the bullet.
Thanks, buddy.
Why did that bother me so much? I am her friend. A friend who just saw her naked this morning. Who craves to bury my head between her legs and watch as she arches when I thrust my fingers inside her...
Stop.
Anyway, as far as I know, she doesn’t have any friends in California, so did she lie to me? The less time we spend together alone, the better, but I promised Jayden I’d keep her out of trouble, and that vision of her on Venice Beach is front and center.
I’m a man, Jess. I can see who you are as a woman. You’re fucking gorgeous.
Shouldn’t have said that.
If you weren’t Jayden’s little sister...
Shouldn’t have said that either. At least some of my brain cells started working and stopped me talking. Then I touched her and that was worse.
Jessie felt the same chemistry flare to life as I did. I know she did. I saw it as her lips parted and her tongue swept out, readying for what should have come next.
My kiss.
I need a lock on my bedroom door to keep me inside. One that doesn’t open until seven the next morning. Make that seven-forty-five, and I’ll start having breakfast at the BHS offices.
She better be wearing panties today.
“Jesus, I’m fucked,” I curse, then drive over to the new Warner Bros site.
When I arrive, Marshall is there with his sleeves rolled up carrying two large boxes.
“Hey.” I do a quick jog to catch up to him. “What ya got there?”
“Cameras. Couple of panels for the office. You doing the drone shots today?” He glances at the device in my hand.
“Yup.” I glance around and slow when he stops at the newly built security office. “Man, I thought this place was ready to go in a few weeks.”
He laughs.
“Just wait. It will be unrecognizable in a week. These guys have money, and money means speed.” Marshall unlocks the door and we walk into the small space.
I survey the current setup and see why we’re upgrading it. BHS didn’t originally have the contract, but after the break-in, which reportedly cost them upwards of three big ones, Josh got the contract.
“Can’t believe Jake is marrying Cole’s sister.” Marshal says, dumping the boxes on the desk.
I lean against the open door.
“He’s a good guy,” I tell Marshall. He knows I worked with Jake on the last assignment. “You know they dated once before.”
“Nope.”
“See, you go away on a honeymoon and miss all the gossip.”
“I heard Cole decked him in the gym.”
Smirking, I rub my forehead. “Yeah, that wasn’t pretty.”
“Brave guy. Not sure I’d mess with someone’s sister.”
Ouch.
It’s the reminder I need to stop letting Jessie get under my skin. She’s like that damn red apple.
The forbidden temptation.
I doubt she understands how men feel about their sisters, no matter how old they are. Or the bond between friends. I might not have siblings, but if I had a sister and knew my buddy craved her body the way I do Jessie’s, I’d kill him.
As boys, we spend a stupid amount of time talking about tits and pussy. Knowing that same kid is thinking about your sister...yeah, no.
I can understand why Jayden doesn’t want me near her. I do. He’s a loyal friend and made it clear when we were young what the rules were.
I could have chosen her.
But I haven’t.
I know how much it hurts her. Unrequited love, or at least lust. I’ve never desired a woman as I do her, and if it’s equally reciprocal, it must be killing her.
You know it is.
While there’s only four years between Jessie and I, she needs to understand we are now worlds apart. Not those two kids growing up in Fort Worth together.
I’ve traveled the world.
I’ve seen people die in battle.
I’ve killed.
This is the first time she’s left Texas.
I don’t care about fashion or the Hollywood scene, handbags or any of that crap.
At best, we would enjoy a steaming hot night of sex. It would be fucking amazing, but not worth throwing away a friendship.
That’s not all there is, and you fucking know it.
“Never a good idea,” I agree with Marshall, shaking off the thoughts that have plagued me for years.
He starts to unpack the boxes.
“Well, I better get this bird in the air.”
“You miss the fighter jets?” he asks, starting to unplug cables, shooting me a look as he leans behind a monitor.
Do I?
I rub the back of my neck with my free hand, straightening.
“Yeah, some days. Nothing compares to those G’s.” My gaze lifts to the sky.
The first time I hit my first nine G-force in an F16 fighter jet, I swear I had an orgasm. It was the best feeling of my life.
To put it into perspective, a resting human experiences one G-force normally as they walk around. Gravity, essentially, otherwise we’d be floating bits in space. On a commercial flight, the maximum allowed is 2.5Gs during takeoff. A rollercoaster can get up to 5Gs.
Marshall plugs something in, and it beeps, lights coming alive on the machine.
“Those F15s can go up to 12Gs, I heard. Fuck, man. Imagine.”
I smile.
“Motherfucker, you’ve been in one.” He straightens, planting his free hand on his hip and looking like a kid in a candy store.
“Flown one, my friend.” I grin widely. He knows I was a captain, so shouldn’t be surprised, but then again, not everyone gets in one of those eagles.
I was lucky, and it’s something I’ll never forget.
All that power.
The feeling of being free and in control, yet at the mercy of fate.
“They’re capable of going higher, but it’d have to be an emergency situation to get approval,” I tell him.
And no pilot wants to do that without cause.
While flying at such enormous speeds is thrilling, it is very dangerous and the impact on your body is real.
We are trained to push the air out of our lungs while closing off our vocal cords, while simultaneously contracting our muscles in our calves, thighs, and shoulders.
Yeah, it takes practice.
And hurts like a motherfucker until you get it right.
“Should’ve joined the Air Force.” Marshall smirks.
“Dude, you were a Green Beret,” I laugh.
“Yeah, but we didn’t have kickass fighter jets to play with.”
They are not toys, and he knows it.
But yeah, they fucking are.
Still, as a pilot, you don’t spend all your time in the air flying around like a metal-wrapped Superman. Non-flying tasks are drummed into us when you join the United States Air Force.
“You are officers first and pilots second,” the commanding officer said on day one.
Jayden and I had grinned at one another. We didn’t care; we just wanted to get into the jets. That’s before reality set in and you started to shit yourself.
In truth, we were well-trained and prepared when we did.
“There’s a lot more desk work than people think,” I tell Marshall after a chuckle. When he gives me a questioning look, I switch the drone to my other hand. “The paperwork is a killer, and it’s the pilot who has to do it. Not our commanding officers.”
“Yeah, fuck. That would take the fun out of it.” I can see his eyes semi-gaze as he recalls some of his missions. “It’s important, though.”
As a member of the special force’s elite, I expected nothing less from the guy. Accountability is essential, but during a high-risk mission, you need to trust those you are with.
Pilots are trained in the ‘five Cs’: confess, climb, conserve, communicate, and comply.
If things start going wrong, you’ve got to trust your co-pilot, the crew on the ground and those in command.
Communication, in my opinion, is the most important, especially when providing effective air support during a mission and avoiding enemy fire...or friendly fire.
Both are a threat.
Black Hawk Down is the most well-known scenario of a craft being hit and teams in the air and on the ground working together.
It’s not all Ray Bans and whatever people imagine from the movie Top Gun. Staying in physical condition is also key. Some flights can be long, and the G-forces along with intense focus and stress can take their toll.
“The blonde I saw you with on the weekend. That your new girl?” Marshall asks, switching gears.
Shit.
“Ah, no. That’s Jayden’s sister. Jess. Jessie. Jessica.”
His eyes flick to mine.
“She’s visiting, and he’s gone to Atlanta for a conference, so he asked me to look after her.”
He opens his mouth, and I hold up a hand. “You don’t need to say it. I’m well aware she’s not a kid.”
He chuckles loudly.
“I did notice. Everyone—married guys include—noticed.”
“Yeah,”
“Be careful,” he warns.
“Trust me. I am. Have been for over ten years.”
“Better you than me, brother.”
Marshall gets back to work, and I step out of the office and start setting up the drone, wondering what Jessie is doing. Wondering if she’s thinking about what I said.
If she hates me right now.
If she’ll return to Fort Worth. It would be the best thing for her to do.
So why don’t I want her to leave?