Fly With Me Read Online Free

I’d first seen
Top Gun,
but it wasn’t a
thing
for me. I was more pirates than pilots. I dated nice guys, but I definitely had a bad boy fetish.
    I wasn’t sure where he fit in.
    The military career explained a lot, though. The fine state of his body, for one. The way he carried himself, the rugged air about him. The confidence. Okay, fine, maybe it was a little sexy.
    And by the cocky glint in his eyes as he announced his profession, he knew it. And just like that, the attraction I’d felt for him went electric.
    Cocky guys were sort of my crack. If you lined up all my exes in a row, the common thread would be that most possessed an overabundance of swagger. Confidence, even to the point of being arrogance, was a major turn-on for me. Not because I thought arrogance was sexy on its own, but because those were the guys you could play with.
    I liked a challenge, and there was nothing better than taking a guy who thought he was hot shit down a peg or two. And then reaping the rewards later.
    And just like that, I made the decision of whether or not I was going to sleep with him tonight.
    Game on, fighter boy.
    NOAH
    I played the fighter pilot card earlier than I normally did. Some guys like Easy led with it, because it typically led to an easy lay. I usually waited a bit before going in hot, butthis girl was a fucking fantasy, so I went with it. I wasn’t sure where this going, but I knew where I wanted it to go. Needed it to go.
    Her naked in bed. Against the wall. Bent over the couch. In the shower.
    Jordan blinked and then a smile spread across her face. It wasn’t the smile I expected, the one I usually got from women. The one that led to innuendo and confessions of uniform fantasies. No, her smile had an edge to it, like a cat that’d found a mouse to play with.
    She leaned forward again, and my mouth went dry at the sight of her perfect tits thrust forward in her little pink dress.
    Why was I starting to feel like the mouse?
    â€œLike
Top Gun
?”
    â€œThat’s Navy. We’re Air Force. We fly F-16s.”
    Everyone asked about
Top Gun
, so I’d expected that one. What I hadn’t expected was the way she asked the question. Her voice as interested as if I’d said,
I fill cavities all day.
    Where were the wide eyes? The shirtless volleyball fantasy? Sure, the reality didn’t exactly match the glossy, Hollywood image, but it worked. Usually.
    She jerked her head toward the end of the table. “Is that why he introduced himself as Easy?”
    Fucking Easy. I was definitely not the only one who’d noticed Jordan. Easy’s eyes had gleamed when I’d introduced them, but it had only taken one look for me to lock that shit down. There had been other times when we’d gone after the same girl; sometimes I didn’t care and let him swoop in.
    This was not one of those times.
    â€œYeah, that’s his call sign.”
    Call signs, also, usually a panty dropper.
    â€œWhat’s his real name?”
    â€œAlex.”
    â€œWhy does everyone call him . . .” Her voice trailed off as she watched Easy wrap his arms around a girl on each side. She smirked. “Right.”
    I laughed. “It’s also a flying thing. He’s really laid-back in the cockpit. But yeah, his—uh—way with the ladies might have come into play.”
    â€œWhat’s your call sign?”
    Now we were talking.
    â€œBurn.”
    I waited for her to say it was hot, or
something
, but all I got was another question.
    â€œSo why didn’t you tell me your call sign like he did?”
    â€œBecause I don’t need to lead with my call sign to get laid.” I let the promise in my words linger between us.
    Her eyes narrowed playfully, her voice silk. “Is that so?”
    I leaned in closer, my gaze locking with hers. “My skills speak for themselves.”
    I expected her to respond with innuendo of her own, but instead she laughed,