Fighting for Flight

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Authors: Jb Salsbury
Tags: alpha male, tattoos, mma fighting
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hit the gym, went for a run,
worked on the Impala, and nothing seemed to help. Needing to hear
her voice, I finally broke down and called her. She seemed nervous
on the phone, which was something I haven’t seen from her in a
while. In the garage, she works with the cool confidence of a
seasoned mechanic, but outside of the garage, she’s shy and
nervous. And both are hot as hell.
    Raven is nothing like the girls I’m used to. She’s
not arrogant or overly aggressive. She doesn’t try to mind-fuck you
into submission. With her, you get what you see. No twisted facades
or acts of desperation. She doesn’t expect anything from me. It’s
refreshing. And because of that, I’m completely at ease around
her.
    I’ve known her for a week, and I’m spilling my guts
about my dad like a pigtailed girl at a sleepover. The words I’d
been holding in for years just poured out, and rather than making
me feel weak for my admission, she gave right back.
    I miss her when she’s not around. I never miss
women. Hell, I go months without seeing my mom and sister. Never
bothers me. Raven’s been away from me for twenty-four hours, and
I’m going nuts, as if something valuable were missing.
    When she was here yesterday, I was shocked at how
quickly I gave in to the urge to touch her. We stood so close at
one point our eyes locked in a lusty stare down. I was ready to
explode. Then she had to go and lick her lips. I would have kissed
her if I thought I’d be able to stop there. The way I was feeling,
I would have taken her on the hood of the car. Mental images
assault my brain, eliciting a groan from deep in my chest. She’ll
be here soon, and here I’m mentally fucking her on my car.
    The doorbell rings, shaking me from my fantasy.
She’s here. I adjust my board shorts before I throw open the door
to the object of my obsession. My smile falls.
    Owen pushes past me with bags of what I assume is
food. “Good to see you too.”
    “Hey, Nik.” I kiss Owen’s wife on the cheek.
    “Jonah, how are you?” She gives me a quick hug.
“Owen baby, just throw that stuff in the kitchen.”
    Nikki is the resident chef at all our barbeques. She
knows her way around my kitchen, so I leave her to it.
    Owen drops the bags then walks straight to the
backyard bar. He angles his barstool to face the sixty-inch flat
screen and turns on Sportscenter .
    I join him outside, grab a beer, and settle in.
Halfway through my first beer, Caleb and Rex show up. The guys
argue whether the San Diego Padres will go to the World Series.
Owen says it’ll be the A’s. I’m sure it’ll be the Yankees, but I
stay out of the conversation. Nikki’s voice, along with a couple
other female voices, cuts through the conversation.
    “Jonah, your guests are here,” she calls from the
sliding glass door.
    Her announcement silences the baseball talk as
everyone turns to see who it is.
    Holy fucking shit.
    It’s Raven.
    And she’s wearing a dress.
    Thankful for my sunglasses, I let my eyes roam her
body freely. Her dark hair is braided to the side, the thick
chocolate rope lying against the swell of her breast. My gaze
lingers on her cleavage, the dress accentuating her already perfect
form. The flowing fabric ends well above her knees, exposing her
long, toned legs.
    I vaguely notice the blonde at her side. That must
be Eve.
    As they walk toward the bar, I can’t take my eyes
off Raven. She glides across the yard in that unconsciously sexy
way of hers. A deep moan from one of the guys at the bar has me
turning my head. They have their greedy fucking eyes locked on my
girl and her friend.
    My girl?
    Possession flares, having me step away from the bar
to meet them, effectively cutting the girls off from the ogling,
lecherous dicks behind me.
    “Is this a joke?”
    “Didn’t see this coming.”
    I hear the mumbled comments from the numb-nut
gallery, and ball my fists to keep from flipping them off.
    “Ladies, glad you could make it.” I’m impressed that
my

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