Bellann Summer

Today we visit The Pilot Soars With His Bad Boy (Rescue for Hire).

As the other two men shook hands, Flyer lost the thin thread of his control and backed away until his back hit the wall. Tom frowned, sending shivers coursing through Flyer’s body. Thank goodness the man didn’t comment. Flyer didn’t breathe again until the door closed behind Tom.

Roman may be a hard powerful man, but his gaze was gentle as he took in Flyer’s trembling form. “What was the trigger?”

“His hands, along with a similarity in looks.” Flyer shoved a shaking hand through his thick brown hair. He kept it very short at the sides and long enough on top for a few strands to cover his forehead.

“Take a deep breath, sit down, and try to relax,” Roman urged. “We have a few minutes until the next applicant.”

Flyer collapsed into his chair. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry.”

A large hand clasped Flyer’s shoulder, making him flinch. In dealing with the bubbling turmoil swirling through his body, Flyer hadn’t heard Roman move.

“Don’t be sorry.” Roman’s tone was calm and steady, just what Flyer needed right now. “You’ve already told me you were mixed up with the wrong guy in the past. When you’re ready to talk about it some more, just remember my door is always open.”

Flyer tilted his head until only his eyes were uncovered by his fingers. “Thanks.”

Roman smiled, but it didn’t reach his blue eyes. “Of course, you do realize that the only applicant that came close to what we are looking for is Tom.”

Flyer’s heart dropped into his guts. “Captain, I’m not sure—”

“Save it,” Roman interrupted. “Someone will come along that fits. We can wait.”

Before Flyer could let his body relax with relief, the office door opened. There was no knock, and it didn’t burst open. The doorknob firmly turned, and the door was opened in a confident and no-nonsense way.

Black leather boots with heavy silver chains across the tops moved into Flyer’s line of vision. Fascinated, he let his gaze travel up over the long expanse of jean-covered legs. Flyer lingered on thighs the size of tree trunks and wondered if his fingers would touch if he wrapped his hands around them. A long wallet chain attached to a front belt loop circled to the man’s back pocket. The chain drew one's eye to the man’s generous package, which was straining the material of the black jeans. Flyer had the urge to reach out and run his fingers over the bulge.

Tearing his gaze away from the man’s privates, Flyer found more delights to enjoy by way of a tight black T-shirt covering a flat belly and stretched tight around a thickly muscled chest. A black leather vest emphasized wide shoulders and concluded the bad boy’s biker outfit.

The man’s arms were ripped with muscles and heavy veins. Flyer wanted to touch and trace those veins, following them down to the man’s large hands and long fingers. Hands like those could make a guy feel secure, and bring him to ecstasy. In his mind, Flyer could feel the nerves of his asshole sizzling as two of those fingers scissored him open.

Flyer lifted his gaze higher, and it collided with dark eyes sparkling with humor. Flyer was mesmerized. He couldn’t look away. Never before had he wanted to sink into someone’s being upon first meeting them as he did now.

Roman cleared his throat and broke the moment. “You must be Styx Randall. Let’s sit down, and I’ll ask you a few questions before Flyer starts drooling.”

As the tall, dark-haired man nodded at Roman and sat, Flyer casually touched a finger to the corner of his mouth. When the tip came away wet, Flyer nonchalantly wiped it on his jeans. Roman never looked over, but Flyer was sure the smirk on his face was meant for him.

Roman glanced down at the open file on his desk. “I see, during your time as a Navy SEAL, you gained your certification in power plant and A&P mechanics. Very impressive. Your resume also states that you have a degree in vehicle engine repair.”

Styx nodded at Roman. Flyer was so busy admiring the man’s deep tan and the rough scruff of black stubble surrounding sexy lips and covering his jaw that at first, he didn’t notice that Styx hadn’t answered out loud.

Frowning, Flyer pushed aside the riot of desires strumming through his body and studied the man. Styx Randall was hot, with short, thick black hair that looked as though it would curl if left to grow a little longer. Flyer lost the battle with his raging desires, and his imagination starting wandering to thoughts of running his fingers through those soft black curls as lips, surrounded by prickly facial hair, wrapped around his dick.

Blinking back the images, Flyer dragged his mind back to the here and now. He was looking for a clue as to the reasons behind the muteness. The man had nice ears, not too big and set close to his head. Flyer wanted to take the gold hoop decorating one lobe into his mouth and suck on it.

Giving himself a mental shake away from the imagined taste of metal and skin, Flyer took in Styx’s thick, muscular neck. There it was. Marring the deeply tanned skin was a jagged, thin white line that started on one side and crossed over the front of Styx’s throat to the other.

“I see you also have a pilot’s license.” Roman sat back in his chair and studied Styx. “On paper, you have it all. And yet, I need to know more. All the applicants so far have only wanted to work on the land vehicles or the planes, not both, except for one, but Flyer wasn’t comfortable working with him. So tell me what you’re looking for.”

Flyer leaned forward and clasped his hands together in anticipation of hearing the big man speak. When he did, Flyer sat back in shock.

The voice that came out of Styx’s mouth was a low, hoarse whisper with a squeaky crack at the end of every sentence. “I like all engines and can fly anything. I refuse to work anywhere that employs homophobes. Rescue for Hire has a good reputation. I’m hoping the West branch will live up to the original’s standards.” Styx turned his head, and intense dark eyes looked into the depths of Flyer’s soul. “I think Flyer and I will get along just fine.”