Grave Intentions (20 page)

Read Grave Intentions Online

Authors: Lori Sjoberg

She’d unleashed her inner hussy and thrown herself at David, and he’d turned her down cold. The rejection was a harsh slap to her ego, a blow to her self-esteem that left her with a deep need to soothe her wounded pride.
Comfort came in the form of mint chocolate chip ice cream topped with whipped cream and chocolate syrup. She tossed a handful of M&M’s on top for good measure.
Calories be damned
, she thought as she dug into the bowl. No, it wouldn’t solve her problems, but for now she’d settle for a good old-fashioned sugar high.
She was debating the merits of a bottle of wine versus a hot bubble bath when she heard a brisk knock at the door. She peered through the peephole and, much to her surprise, saw David.
“What do you want?” she asked through the closed door.
“We need to talk.”
“Talk?” She jerked the door open, prepared to give him a piece of her mind. “Why, so you can humiliate me some more? Thanks, but no thanks, I’ve had enough rejection for one night.”
He answered by pulling her into his arms and kissing her.
No, kissing was too light a word.
Devour
. Yeah, there’s a much better description for the way David claimed her mouth, tasting, taking, making every thought in her head evaporate in the wake of pure pleasure.
He nudged her into the foyer, pushing the door shut with his foot.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked when she pulled back for air. Her heart raced, her body burning with need. She caught his gaze, felt light-headed and dizzy when she found smoldering heat in those striking pale eyes.
“Putting an end to our friendship.”
“But you said you didn’t—”
He cut her off with another kiss, putting an end to any further attempts at conversation.
My God, she tasted even better than he remembered.
Finesse would have to come later. And yes, there would definitely be a later. Tonight was about passion, and desire, and satisfying hungers long restrained.
They left a trail of clothes on their way to Sarah’s bedroom, tumbling to the bed in a tangle of limbs.
She laughed, and then gasped when his mouth found her breast, her eyes drifting shut as her head fell back against the pillow. Her fingers combed through his hair, urging him to take more, take all.
And take he would. Before the night was over he planned on learning every inch of her body through taste and touch, discovering every one of the secret places that made her tremble and moan and make all those wonderful feminine noises he’d yet to discover.
She shifted beneath him, each movement setting little fires in their wake.
It was a wonder, the way she drove him crazy. So warm and soft and inviting beneath him, she awakened emotions he’d thought banished forever.
Together they stoked the fires, burning hotter and brighter until at last she whispered an urgent, “Now, David.”
Her hand slid down, guiding him to the slickness between her legs. She was hot, and wet, and more than ready, and when he entered her warmth they both let out a groan of pleasure.
His mouth found hers, hot and hungry as he began to move inside her. He wanted to take things slow and easy, to savor the moment for as long as possible. But then she dug her nails into his back and moaned, “More,” and he lost all sense of control, his strokes coming harder, faster, his skin slick with sweat as she matched him stroke for stroke.
Back arching, she suddenly went still, her nails digging deeper, her teeth clamped down on his shoulder. She let out a soft, muffled cry as her climax reached its peak, her face a mask of carnal satisfaction.
It made a man proud, knowing he could do that to a woman.
Giving in to primal instincts, he lost himself in the heat of her embrace until his world shattered around him, swamping him with mindless euphoria.
“Jesus,” he said once he could breathe again, his face buried in her hair.
Slowly, her arms wrapped around him, loose and languid with postcoital bliss. “That was . . . damn,” she said, her voice a throaty purr.
“Yeah. My sentiments exactly.” Not wanting to crush her, he rolled to his side, nestling her close. She cuddled against him, a soft sigh escaping her lips as he kissed the top of her head. Already he wanted to take her again, to look into her eyes this time when she came. Would it always be like this? God, he hoped so.
He wondered, just how long did he have to wait before initiating round two? Things had changed so much over the years he wasn’t sure what was acceptable anymore. Would she even be up for another go? He had no idea, but he hoped the answer was a resounding yes. She seemed pretty relaxed at the moment; maybe she’d want to go to sleep for a little while—
“David?” Sarah peered up at him, her brown eyes heavy-lidded and dreamy. She stretched against him and he felt a fresh rush of desire.
“Hmm?”
She smiled at him with a look so wanton it took his breath away. “Want to do it again?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
 
David barely slept that night. How could he with Sarah lying by his side, curled up against him with her arm draped across his chest? Every nerve in his body was awake and alert, basking in the wonders of his newly resurrected sex life while clamoring for another round of erotic acrobatics.
He’d spent hours watching her sleep, taking in the peaceful expression, the steady breathing that came with total relaxation. She felt so perfect, all soft and warm and pressed up close like she’d always belonged there.
No, he refused to regret this. He’d denied himself the simple pleasures for far too long and he’d be damned if he felt guilty about enjoying the sins of the flesh with a willing woman.
He glanced down at said willing woman, memorizing each swell and curve, wishing the sheets weren’t covering the lower half of her body. He was a man, after all, and all men appreciated the breathtaking magnificence of a woman in all her glory.
Damn, she was beautiful. What on earth did she see in him? Try as he might, he’d never figure it out in a million years. But for now he’d take what he could get and thank his lucky stars.
Sarah stirred in her sleep, a contented moan escaping her lips as she nuzzled against his body, her cheek resting against his chest. She mumbled something unintelligible before settling back into sleep, a hint of a smile on her face that was both sweet and sensual at the same time.
Outside, the sun was breaking over the horizon, signaling the start of a brand-new day. Birds chirped, and if he listened closely he could hear the squirrels scampering across the roof of the apartment, using the building as a shortcut between the two large oaks on either side.
Twenty minutes later, Sarah’s eyes cracked open. She let out a yawn before her gaze tracked up to meet David’s.
“Morning,” she said, her voice soft and sleepy.
“Morning, Sunshine,” David replied, smiling. He dipped his head to give her a kiss.
Her hair was a mess and her makeup had worn off hours ago, but she still looked sexier than any woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He ran his hand down her spine and she stretched against him like a cat, making him harder than he already was.
“Mmm, that feels good,” she said, her fingers toying with the hair on his chest. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and stiffened. “Oh crap, I’m late for work.”
She tried to roll out of bed but David hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his body.
“No you’re not.”
“Of course I am,” she said, panic growing in her voice. “I’m supposed to be at work by seven, and I still have to take a shower and get dressed and eat breakfast, and—”
“No, you don’t.”
Sarah shot him a look of exasperation. “Why not?”
“It’s Saturday.”
She stilled, a faint blush rising in her cheeks. “Oh. I forgot.” Then her expression shifted as she gave him a brazen smile. Her hand slipped beneath the sheets, and he let out a low groan when her fingers curled around his cock. “Well then, how do you propose we spend the morning?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
David rolled her over, taking her mouth until they were both mindless and breathless and burning with need. With Adam and Martin handling the morning appointment, he had nothing on the schedule until later that evening. The day was at his disposal, to do as he wanted. And what he wanted right now was to lose himself in the woman beneath him.
“I was thinking breakfast,” he said when he came up for air. “For lunch.”
chapter 16
Sunday’s drive to the coast was blissfully uneventful. Traffic on the eastbound toll road was quiet for that time of the morning, probably due to the overcast skies. Clouds meant rain, which served as a major deterrent for anyone planning a trip to the beach.
But David and Adam weren’t beachbound. No, they had other plans on tap for the day, and none of them included sand and surf.
David’s gaze cut right for a moment, to the crumpled mass in the front seat, otherwise known as Adam. The kid was asleep with his head against the passenger side window, snoring loudly enough to be heard over the radio. When he’d staggered home a little past four-thirty in the morning, he’d eaten almost everything in the fridge, walked the dog, thrown up, and passed out. Not necessarily in that order. Even in sleep, the kid looked a little green around the gills.
Once they got back in town, David planned on having a serious talk with the others about playing nice with the newbies. The kid wasn’t much good to him if he was too hung over to function.
Ten miles later, David took the north exit onto Atlantic Boulevard and followed the directions to Space Coast Drive. The traffic got heavier as they drew closer to their destination, eventually slowing to a near crawl. He took the opportunity to lean over and give Adam a good shake.
“Wake up, Newbie. We’re almost there.”
Adam mumbled something incoherent and slumped forward in his seat, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Where the fuck are we?”
“Titusville,” David said. He turned right, following the long line of cars entering the empty field that doubled as a temporary parking lot. He gave the attendant a five, tossed the parking pass on the dashboard, and kept going.
“What the hell are we doing in Titusville?”
“Getting ready for our twelve-fifteen.” He took a spot at the far end of the lot, near the side exit. After cutting the engine, he reached under the seat and pulled out a battered Dolphins cap. “Come on, let’s roll.”
With a groan, Adam stumbled out of the car. He cursed under his breath but fell in line beside David, heading toward the main entrance.
“Why are we here so early?” Adam asked, clearly annoyed. He glanced down to check the time on his phone. “Shit, it’s only a little after ten. I could have gotten a couple extra hours sleep.”
“That’s your fault for staying out so damn late getting drunk as a skunk.”
“What does that have to do with being two hours early for a job?”
“Nothing.”
As they approached the gates, David took in the sights and sounds of the TICO AirShow.
The Space Coast Airport was closed to commercial air traffic for the day, allowing for the display of dozens of aircraft from almost every era in modern aviation history, from World War II to present. Vendors sold food, drinks, and souvenirs while country music blared in the distance, reminding everyone how proud they were to be an American.
David pulled out his wallet and paid for two tickets, handing one to Adam. Once inside, he took pity on his trainee and bought him a Coke, hoping the infusion of caffeine would kick his ass into gear.
“Thanks,” Adam said, downing half the can in one gulp. “You never did say why we got here so early.”
“Maybe I happen to like air shows,” David replied, leading Adam toward the first plane on display.
Actually, he’d come early so he could scope out the area. Crowded scenes like this were a major pain in the ass. Not only did crowds make it more difficult to track the mark, but it was damn near impossible to collect the soul without some idiot sticking his nose in your business. The more familiar you were with the area, the quicker you could get in and out without drawing unnecessary attention.
But still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t take a little time to appreciate the modern wonders of aeronautical engineering.
David stopped a few yards shy of an A-10 Thunderbolt, appreciating the brilliance of a finely constructed piece of machinery. Designed to provide low altitude air support, the twin-engine jet was heavily armored and equipped with a rotary cannon capable of taking out enemy tanks. A member of the flight crew stood near the nose, talking with folks as they stopped to ask questions.
“Look at this baby. They call her the Warthog because she’s so damn ugly, but she’s one of the toughest planes in the Air Force. We could have used some of these in Korea.”
“You’re kidding me,” Adam said, glaring at David through bloodshot eyes. “You dragged my ass out of bed early so you could ogle planes?”
David shot Adam a dirty look. Arriving early to an appointment wouldn’t normally bother the kid . . . if he were sober. He recognized the problem for what it was and kicked himself for not doing something about it earlier.
Oh well, no time like the present.
“You’ve got to watch the drinking, kid. I don’t mind you blowing off a little steam now and then, but I need you functional.”
“I am functional.”
“You’re barely coherent.” To prove his point David poked Adam in the chest, watching him weave a little before catching his balance.
“Okay, so maybe I had a little too much to drink last night. I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can. You’re going to prove it to me by going dry for the next week. Starting now.”
Adam’s jaw dropped. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“I shit you not.” A family of four walked past, forcing David to hold his tongue until they were safely out of earshot. “Until you’re fully trained you’re on my watch. I won’t have you getting hammered every night.”
“Okay, Dad,” Adam said, his voice a sarcastic drawl.
They made their way down the field, taking in the assortment of vintage and modern aircraft, loosely grouped by era. It was amazing, the advances in technology. Jets capable of breaking the speed barrier. Helicopters equipped with reinforced armor, yet nimble enough for urban street combat. Unmanned drones used to search for terrorists in the most desolate parts of Iraq and Afghanistan.
“You know, you never did tell me where you went off to Friday night,” Adam said as they approached the next cluster of aircraft. He gave David an expectant look, as if waiting for an answer. When David remained silent, he asked, “Well? Where were you?”
“Out,” David replied as he read the placard for an F-8 Crusader.
“No shit. Seriously, where were you?”
“None of your fucking business.”
Adam grinned, unfazed by the warning in David’s voice. “Were you out getting some action?” When David didn’t answer, he let out a bark of laughter. “I knew it! No wonder you were in such a hurry to get me out the door.”
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t late,” David said, which was partially true. He’d also wanted Adam out the door before Sarah came over. “Dmitri’s big on punctuality.”
Adam rolled his eyes, clearly not buying David’s line of bullshit. “Whatever. So who’s the lucky lady? Anyone I know?”
Sure, but he wasn’t about to admit it. The kid would find out soon enough—probably had a good idea already—but until then he’d rather keep his personal life private. “I told you, it’s none of your business.”
“Oh come on, throw me a bone. I told you all about what happened between me and Ruby.”
“And I told you I didn’t want to know. It took me the better part of a week to get those images out of my brain.”
Adam laughed. “All right, I’ll let it go . . . for now. But I’m going to get it out of you sooner or later.”
“Good luck.”
The air show opened about an hour later with a demonstration by the U.S. Army parachute team, the Golden Knights. The twelve-member team jumped out of the plane, creating several geometric formations before pulling their chutes and gliding to a safe landing at the end of the field.
The Golden Knights were followed by a pair of biplanes. Decorated to look like World War I aircraft, the planes performed a series of carefully choreographed aerial maneuvers, simulating a dogfight. At one point the Allied plane went into a death drop, plummeting toward earth at a breathtaking speed. The pilot pulled out of the dive at the last possible second, skimming dangerously close to the runway as the crowd erupted with cheers and applause.
David glanced down at his watch. 11:55. Twenty minutes to go. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the low-grade vibration haunting the air. It was originating from the far end of the runway, near a densely wooded area. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. On the plus side, there wouldn’t be much in the way of crowds to deal with. But on the other hand, he’d have to find a way past security without being noticed.
“This way,” he told Adam, motioning toward the north end of the exhibit.
Six Navy jets soared overhead in tight formation, much to the delight of the spectators below. The planes pulled into a sharp incline before splitting off in different directions. The two groups looped around and streaked toward each other, their paths crossing so closely it was a wonder they didn’t collide.
David came to an abrupt stop at the end of the exhibit, causing Adam to almost bang into him.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, his eyes searching the crowd.
David didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at the F-86 Sabre before him, remembering the last time he’d seen one up close and personal.
“They used to fly these in Korea,” David said. The years peeled away and he remembered another lifetime, when he was young and mortal and only cared about getting home to his family in time for Christmas.
Fast and maneuverable, the compact jets gave the Soviet MiGs a run for the money back in the day. They were a familiar presence on the front lines, safeguarding the skies from enemy attack. He’d always felt a little bit safer whenever he spotted one overhead.
For a moment he wished he’d brought Sarah along, so he could share this rare slice of nostalgia, to show her a part of who he used to be. Maybe he’d take her next year, if he didn’t have any appointments.
“Ain’t she a beauty?”
David blinked, pulling himself back to the here and now. The elderly man speaking to him was decked out in full flight gear circa 1950, complete with the insignia of the Air Force 4
th
Fighter-Interceptor Wing. For a man his age he looked amazingly spry, standing tall and proud beside the vintage plane.
“She flew over a hundred fifty missions during the Korean War,” the man continued, his voice filled with pride. “Her pilot was credited with taking down twenty-four MiGs.”
“Impressive.” David ran a hand over the tip of the wing. Even though he’d seen the planes take to the sky countless times, this was the first time he’d actually seen one up close. “I . . . my grandfather served in Korea.”
“Oh really? What branch?”
“Army.”
“Which unit?”
“I forget,” David said, not wanting to get sucked into a prolonged conversation about the past. Too much talk led to nothing but bad memories, ones he didn’t feel like rehashing with a complete stranger. “He passed away a long time ago.”
Their discussion was cut short by the deafening roar overhead as the Navy Blue Angels made another pass over the airfield. They skillfully merged into a diamond formation, with two of the jets flipping into an inverted position.
David didn’t need to rely on death’s signal to know something bad was about to happen. His body tensed, filled with the apprehension of knowing a life was approaching its expiration.
Adam noticed it, too, his body going rigid while his eyes focused skyward.
The F/A-18 Hornets split off into two groups again, peeling away from the main runway in preparation for their next maneuver. What happened next was anybody’s guess. Maybe the wind shifted, or one of the pilots made a tactical error. No matter the cause, the wing of the number two jet clipped the number four, sending both planes spinning out of control. The number four pilot ejected seconds before impact, his parachute opening almost immediately, ensuring his escape from certain death. His jet slammed into the runway below, a fiery explosion of red and yellow.
Meanwhile, the other pilot fought to regain control of his jet, a battle he was destined to lose. To his credit, he somehow managed to keep the plane from crashing into the crowd. The jet veered wide right, crashing into the forest at an ungodly speed.
“Holy shit,” Adam said, eyes wide and mouth dropped open.
The wail of sirens pierced the air as emergency vehicles raced toward the wreckage on the runway. The crowd watched in stunned silence as firefighters quickly formed a perimeter around the downed jet, battling the fire with flame-retardant foam. The ejected pilot landed in a field about a hundred yards away, some of the crowd applauding when his feet touched ground. “Let’s go,” David said, using the distraction to slip into the forest undetected.
Already, thick black smoke was billowing through the canopy of cypress trees, the stench of jet fuel thick in the air. It would take time for rescue crews to cut a wide enough path through the dense brush to reach the wreckage. With luck, David and Adam would be long gone before they arrived.

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