High Octane (2 page)

 

I
T WAS
S
ATURDAY AFTERNOON
, a hot time at the Hotzone for Ryan “Cowboy” Walker, who sauntered behind the front desk to complete the day's log. He was outta here early today, taking off for the first time in a month, since their grand opening. He was heading out for an appointment with a real-estate agent to look at houses, though
he hadn't shared that little detail with anyone. He'd given himself a deadline for deciding if he was committed to the civilian life, and once he committed, he would be fully committed. Though secretly the idea of owning a home scared the crap out of him, far more than any of the many snake-infested jungles he'd seen in his time. The only home he'd ever been willing to claim was the Army, with his AK-14 as his front door.

Ryan believed you did things all the way or not at all. People who walked a line usually ended up dead or miserable. He didn't like either of those choices. Which was why he'd left the Army a month before and invested with several of his Crazy Aces in the Hotzone. At one time, he would have sworn he'd have been a life-timer. But soldiers followed orders without question, and he no longer could. Not when he'd come to realize there was an outside agency involved in their mission, of questionable ethics. Nothing had been what it seemed. And so here he was, about to house-hunt, forced into domestication like some sort of wild cat, but still committed.

He slammed the logbook shut, satisfied he was ready for Monday's jump class. He was going to show the new Special Forces recruits what had put the Crazy in the Aces—namely, him. They'd never jump out of a plane with anything but cool confidence when he was done scaring the hell out of them. Better they wet their training pants on his clock than on the enemies'.

Ryan was headed around the counter and toward the door when his gaze caught on the parking lot and the woman approaching the building; she gave
hot
a whole
new meaning. He stopped dead in his tracks and a low whistle escaped his lips.

With an all-consuming interest that made house-hunting a distant memory, he tracked the curvy brunette's path.

His gaze simmered on the confident stride of the woman headed his way, those long legs eating the distance between them. Oh, yeah. He was going to like this woman. Anticipation charged his nerve-endings with a fire he'd not known in far too long. His around-the-clock work schedule had left no time for dating or other pleasures. A dry spell that would soon be ending, he decided. His groin tightened at the sight of the sexy she-devil's snug black jeans and fitted black T-shirt, both of which hugged her with deliciously arousing perfection.

She reached for the door; her silky dark hair fluttered around petite shoulders and high breasts. He wanted that hair on his face, on his stomach. He wanted this woman.

She stepped inside the small office equipped with a couple of steel desks and not much more, shoving her sunglasses on top of her head as the door swung shut behind her. Light green eyes the color of new grass blinked him into focus and connected with his, the attraction between them instant, hot. No.
Damn
hot. Electricity charged the air, stroking his cock to full attention, the room so silent it was eerie.

“Hi,” she said in a rich-wine kind of voice that rippled along his nerve-endings and sent a rush of fire straight through his veins.

His gaze slid to the rise and fall of her ample breasts, and then lifted in time to see the alluring scrape of teeth along her full red bottom lip. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to taste all of her. Ryan tipped his cowboy hat, undisguised interest in the heated look he fixed in her direction.

Another silent, crackling moment followed before she announced, “I'm here to see Caleb.”

Ryan barely contained a curse. Caleb. She was here to see Caleb. His partner. His fellow Ace. His friend. Ryan ground his teeth at the off-limits territory he was treading on, an out-of-character possessiveness rising within him. He'd never taken anything from one of the Aces. They were family, his blood without blood. But Caleb had better stake his claim on this woman and stake it fast. Because Ryan wanted her in a bad way, and what Ryan Walker wanted, Ryan Walker went after, and blood was the only thing that could stop him.

R
YAN WAS LOCKED
on to the brunette beauty, not about to let her get past him without getting what he wanted, and that was a whole lot more than name, rank and serial number. That was, until she was intercepted.

“Sabrina!” Jennifer shouted, charging past him and into the path of his target. “You're late,” she accused, chiding the woman who'd become the center of his attention. “I thought you weren't coming.”

“You mean you thought I was a big ol' chicken,” replied the woman, Sabrina. She followed the response with a laugh. It was a sexy, smoky sound that did nothing to take the edge off Ryan's growing desire or the bulge beneath his zipper.

Jennifer's hands went to her hips, her back to Ryan, her body irritatingly blocking his view of Sabrina. “We both know your tardiness means you almost pulled a no-show.”

Jennifer stepped a bit to her right, her arms still planted on those hips, and Ryan could see the flush
spread across Sabrina's ivory-perfect skin before she asked, “Was there a specific time I was supposed to be here? I thought you said Saturday…as in anytime today.”

“Don't play coy with me,” Jennifer scolded instantly. “I said before two o'clock and you know it.”

Sabrina laughed, skipping any attempt at denial. “Okay, I almost talked myself out of coming,” she admitted. “I know I'm late.”

“Ah-huh,” Jennifer said. “That's what I thought. And you secretly hoped it would be too late to jump. Well, you got your wish. Caleb is booked all afternoon.”

Ryan leaned one elbow on the counter and crossed his dusty, booted feet. To hell with house-hunting. “I'll take her up,” he said in a lazy drawl that defied the outright molten heat charging through his body.

Sabrina glanced around Jennifer, her pale green eyes glinting like crystals as they slid down his body in a long, lingering inspection, before her gaze popped to his. “And you would be?” she inquired.

“A better choice than Caleb,” he assured her.

“Not for Sabrina,” Jennifer countered and gave him her back. “Ryan is a wild ride you don't want any part of. Trust me. You want Caleb.”

 

F
ROM WHAT SHE'D SEEN
of Ryan, Sabrina was pretty certain he was the man she wanted. But she also had a feeling this “wild ride” equaled a plate of poisoned food to a starving man—pleasure with a lethal endgame. Jumping out of a plane was enough of a dare, thank
you very much. She didn't need to add a hot cowboy with a rock-hard body and sultry, brown, bedroom eyes. Besides, it wasn't as if she was chomping at the bit to jump to her death anyway.

“I can wait for Caleb,” she said. “No rush, anyway. I can always come back next weekend.”

A slow smile filled Ryan's too-handsome face. “I'll be easy with you, darlin'. I promise.”

He promises. Said the cat to the mouse,
she thought cynically, but that didn't stop her imagination from conjuring an image of her strapped to a parachute, with his front attached to her…er…backside. Oh, yeah, he was dangerous. In all kinds of ways.

“No, Ryan,” Jennifer said urgently, and shifted her attention to Sabrina. “Caleb is calm and controlled. He'll be a pillar if you get scared.”

“I'm calm and controlled,” Ryan said.

Jennifer took a long glance at Ryan. “There is a reason you take up the experienced jumpers, and you know it.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Because I teach them that calm control doesn't have to be boring. I push them to the edge rather than pull them back. I show them how to expand their limits.”

The words resonated through Sabrina and spoke to her deep beneath the surface. She already knew how to be calm and controlled. She'd spent a lifetime living just that. What she didn't know how to do was be calm, controlled and daring at the same time. To live outside her safety zone. Ryan was more than the man
she wanted. Ryan was the man she needed. “I'll jump with Ryan.”

Jennifer started to object. “Sabrina—”

Sabrina gently touched her arm. “It's okay,” she said in a low voice. “Really. I'm here, and honestly, if I leave, I may never do this. And it's a good idea. It's a good thing.”

“You're sure?”

“Am I sure about jumping out of a plane?” Sabrina asked incredulously. “Of course not. But I can't go through hours of convincing myself to go through with this again. Now or never.”

Jennifer looked as if she might argue and then grabbed Sabrina's hand. “This way.”

Jennifer then tugged Sabrina toward the interior of the office. In her path stood Ryan, whom she passed with mere inches separating them. Ryan, who looked hotter and harder, upon closer inspection. And inspect she did, she lingered on his long, muscular thighs poured into tight denim that would no doubt be hugging her thighs in the very near future. Her mouth watered, and she jerked her attention upward, her gaze colliding with the only soft thing about Ryan—his brown eyes—the sizzle between them impossible to miss. She was, indeed, in for a wild ride, and amazingly, though she was scared, Sabrina realized something she couldn't ignore. She was excited. She felt alive for the first time in years. She was doing something she'd never have dreamed of doing a few months ago. She was changing her life, but also pushing herself to experience the world.

Unfortunately, the path to experiencing that world led—at least for the moment—away from Ryan and into what looked like a classroom. Sabrina soon found herself sitting at one of six steel folding tables, signing liability paperwork. Lots of it. Suddenly, she forgot long, hard Ryan and thought of the long, hard fall she might take if her chute didn't open.

“Okay,” Jennifer said, sitting next to her. “Last signature.” She pointed to the release form. “Sign here.” But then she pulled the paper away. “Or don't. You can still change your mind.”

Sabrina grabbed the paper and signed. “You are so not helping, Jennifer. Have you forgotten this was your idea?”

“It was my idea to send you up with Caleb,” she said. “Not Ryan. Yes, he's part owner, yes, but that's not the point.”

“Then what is?”

Jennifer let out a sigh and shifted in the steel chair. “I pushed you into this. I don't want you to have a bad experience. I want you to feel it was fun, and that it really did help you with the whole control-freak thing. And Caleb…he's sensitive, patient. He'll know if you've reached your limits. He'll know to pull you back. Ryan doesn't know limits. He'll push you. Especially if he knows why you're doing this.”

“I can handle Ryan,” Sabrina said. “And, truth be told, I have my reasons for choosing him.”

“Jenn,” came the deep, silky male voice, “call for you.”

Sabrina's gaze lifted to directly across from them where Ryan filled the doorway with all kinds of hot male goodness, his hat tipped back, his sultry bedroom eyes fixed on her.

“Good luck, honey,” Jennifer said. “You want him, he's all yours.” Ryan sauntered into the room, his dusty boots some how only adding to his appeal as he gave Jennifer space to pass. Only she didn't pass. She paused. “Behave.”

“Like a perfect angel,” he assured her.

Jennifer snorted and disappeared.

Ryan leaned on the table directly in front of Sabrina. “Any hope one of those reasons for choosing me is my hot body?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Sabrina knew how to talk the talk. She was a politician's daughter, after all. “Actually, yes,” she answered. “If you were out of shape and wheezing with every breath you drew, I can't say I'd be eager to jump out of a plane with you.”

“I got the impression you weren't so eager to jump out of a plane with anyone.”

“I'm sure a lot of people feel that way right about the time they sign their paperwork,” Sabrina said.

“Only the ones who're talked into coming by some one else,” he bantered. “But those people don't normally come alone. They come with a girlfriend, a boyfriend, a pal. That ‘someone' they are trying to please by pushing themselves. Who are you here to please, Sabrina?”

Her chin lifted, fingers lacing together in front of
her, as they rested on top of the forms. “Myself.”
For the first time in a very long time,
she added silently.

His eyes narrowed. “By pushing yourself to do something that scares you?”

“More like something I wouldn't normally do,” she countered, not giving him more than she had to. This was her private journey. He didn't need to understand it to be a part of it.

“I need more than that if I'm taking you up,” he said, rejecting her evasive answer.

“Why?” she snapped back instantly.

“Because I'm responsible for you up there,” he said quickly, and then hit her with another question. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“No.”

“Flying?”

“No.”

“Falling?”

“No.”

He studied her from under the ridge of his hat. “Dying?”

She considered that a moment. “No. No, I'm not afraid of dying. Once it's over, it's over. I think I'm okay with that. And do you ask these questions of everyone you take up for jumps?”

“No,” he said. “But Caleb does.”

“I didn't ask for Caleb,” she said. “I asked for you.”

“Why?”

Why. She'd walked right into that, but decided quickly she didn't care. Fine. He needed to know. He
could know. Maybe sharing what she felt was a part of letting go of control. “Because I want to be pushed when I'm on the edge, not pulled back,” she said, repeating what Jennifer had said when comparing the two men. “And because I know all about calm control, but I also know my limits are way too narrow.” In other words, she wanted what he had offered.

A bit of surprise flickered across his face, followed by full-blown interest. “You really think you can handle me, Sabrina?”

Truth be told, he scared the holy bejeezus out of her, but he also excited her in a wickedly wonderful way she would never have dared to explore before now.

“I can handle you, cowboy,” she assured him, with only a tiny white lie of uncertainty. “The question is…can you handle me?”

A slow smile slid onto his lips. “Sweetheart,” he said, “if I can't, I'll die trying. And I'll do so a happy man.”

He could have left out the
die,
considering they were about to jump out of a plane, but she managed to shove that aside, using the much-needed distraction of this hot man flirting with her.

Sabrina slid her paperwork forward. “I'm ready when you're ready.”

Keeping his gaze locked on her face, he said, “You have a decision to make.”

Wasn't jumping out of a plane with this man enough of a decision for one day? “Which is what?”

“First choice. You can take several hours of training
and jump on your own. That gives you the control, which appears to be important to you.”

“Jumping out of a plane with no one anywhere near to help me is not what I call control,” she said with no hesitation. In fact, she could feel her chest tightening, hear her heart pounding in her ears. “I thought I could jump with you? Can't I jump with you?” She pushed to her feet, and barely remembered doing it.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he said softly, holding up his hands and slowly lowering them. “Of course you can jump with me. But maybe we should go get a beer instead of jumping out of a plane. Give you some time to think this through.”

Suddenly, she realized how silly she must seem. My God. How had she become this scared little girl, too frightened to do what a million other people did without fear?

“No,” she said, knowing that if she gave herself time to think, she'd back out. “Let's go. I want to jump.”

Ryan stood up and walked around to her. Close. Towering over her. He extended his hand. “I'll make sure you enjoy every last minute.”