Page 20 of The Pilot's Good Girl
Memories of last night come rushing back in vivid, electric waves. The way he touched me…looked at me…took me. It wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t just losing my virginity. It was like being rewritten from the inside out. Like he reached into places no one had ever been and made them his.
I turn slowly in his arms to face him, careful not to wake him. He’s still out cold, lips parted slightly, his scruffy jaw shadowed with morning stubble. His long lashes rest against his cheek, his dark hair ruffled from my hands digging into it.
God, he’s beautiful.
But it’s more than that. He makes me feel safe. Like I could fall apart in his arms and he’d catch every piece.
I let my fingers brush lightly across his chest, tracing the shape of the ink on his skin—the bird, the initials, the coordinates. The things that anchor him.
I remember what he told me yesterday, the guilt in his eyes when he told me about his friend who didn’t make it. Maybe that’s what draws me to him? I know what it feels like to carry the heavy burden of guilt…
Could that be what this is about? This strange…attraction? It all happened so fast, and I don’t know what it means.
I study his face again, biting my bottom lip as doubt starts to claw at my chest.
Is this just a one-time thing for him? Like a one-night stand…?
Or is this real?
He stirs, the arm around me tightening, and then his eyes flutter open—those gorgeous, storm-blue eyes still sleepy, but instantly softening when they land on me.
“Hey,” he murmurs, voice all rough and gravelly.
“Hi,” I whisper.
He smiles, a slow and lazy stretch of his mouth, and then he shifts onto his side so we’re nose to nose. “I could feel your eyes on me,” he says, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone.
I flush, dropping my gaze. “Maybe.”
“What’s on that pretty mind, baby?”
Before I can answer, he leans in and kisses me. Not deep. Just the softest press of his mouth to mine, like he’s tasting my lips. Then another one on my nose. My jaw. My collarbone.
I giggle, trying to squirm away. “Jake…”
“Hm?” He noses into my neck, kisses the hollow just below my ear. “You were thinking real hard about something.”
“I was trying to,” I say, my breath catching when he trails kisses across my shoulder. “You’re not exactly making it easy.”
“Good,” he mutters against my skin. “Thinking’s overrated.”
His mouth moves back to mine, and this time the kiss lingers, slow and toe-curlingly tender. I melt into it, into him, my heart fluttering stupidly in my chest.
His hand slips around to cup the back of my neck, thumb stroking gently just below my ear. Then he pulls back, and his eyes search mine for a long, heavy moment.
“Lie on your stomach,” he says quietly.
I obey instantly, my heart thrumming with anticipation. He starts to trail his fingers down my spine, slowly. I moan quietly, my body shivering in response.
“What were you thinking about?” he asks, his hands hovering on my spine, just above my butt cheeks.
My breath hitches, my skin tingling with anticipation. I can barely remember my own name right now.
“Uh, nothing…”
He palms my ass, spreading me just a little, and my stomach clenches with nerves.
“You’re such a pretty liar,” he murmurs with a low chuckle, his thumb tracing over the seam between my cheeks.
