Jagger's Moves(4)

As Tyler teased her with his tongue, nibbled on her lips, and in general, did everything to make her knees shake and her pussy clench, Lexa was ready to rip this man's baggy clothes off and put herself on…him.

Just as she reached the waist of his shorts, Tyler pulled back, his breath heaving as his muscle-ripped chest rose and fell at a fast rate. He pressed his damp lips to her forehead while his rough palms stroked up and down her spine in a soothing rhythm.

"Shit, goddess…" His voice wasn't even as his breath tickled the tip of her ear. "We're in an airport." He gave a whole body shudder before slowly releasing his hold on her and stepping back.

"No shit, Jagger," the other man who'd been standing with him spoke up. "Get your mind out of your pants and focus. You do have other plans, remember?"

The emphasis the cowboy put on the last word let Lexa know another woman had to be involved. Only when two or more women came into the equation did men get that nervous oh shit look.

The edgy happiness barely formed fizzled at the words. And her plans to keep Tyler busy in bed died just as quickly. Sure, it had seemed like one of her story plots come to life when she spied Tyler just as she needed a quick rescue. What were the chances of seeing her childhood buddy and teenage pen pal in an airport so far from home?

Drawing on years of experience dealing and speaking in public, Lexa curved her lips in a vacuous smile. Taking a few steps back, she lifted her right arm and gave both men a casual wave. "It's been great seeing you again, Ty. Thanks for the rescue."

A quick look around assured her Herr Asshole had disappeared into the crowd while she'd been busy with Ty. She gave a quick prayer of thanks, shot Tyler and his buddy another smile, then turned on her heels.

Really, it was for the best, she tried to convince herself as she attempted to blend in with the other passengers, but since the airport was so small, Lexa stood out among the floral print, camera-draped tourists. What did she have in common with a gorgeous war hero decorated for his valor and courage? It looked like her investment in batteries would remain. Heaven knew she would be putting her favorite vibe through the paces tonight, thanks to Tyler and his amazing lips.

"Hey!"

Lexa ignored the irritated male growl and quickened her pace. Four inch heels were not made for airport dashing, especially not when being chased by two hunks in T-shirts, cargo shorts, and combat boots.

Spotting a women's restroom up ahead, Lexa put on a burst of speed and ducked through to the small four-room stall. Leaning against the wall by the sinks, she closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. How the hell had her day turned out like this?

"Goddess, it's going to take more than a cartoon lady in a dress to scare us off." The seductive voice stroked her sensitive nerves even as she jumped and squeaked like a timid mouse.

"You can't be in here," she whispered as she pressed a hand over her heart. The organ raced beneath her palm and she prayed her doctor was honest at her last physical. He'd promised her good health and that included a warranty on her heart. Or at least, that's the way Lexa chose to interpret his clean bill of health speech.

And what the hell was she doing standing here like a brain-damaged debutante while two very big and overwhelming males towered over her in a small-enclosed space?

The cowboy friend looked around carefully. "Looks like we can." He punched Tyler in the arm before pointing to the far side of the room. "Hey, Jagger, they've got a vending machine in here. I knew chicks did more than drop trou in here. Why else would they always go in pairs and take so long?" He looked around the relatively clean room, complete with loveseat, floor lamp, and wicker wastebasket. "Shit, Jagger, it's like a little salon in here."

Tyler—she couldn’t think of him by his military nickname, not after knowing him as Tyler all her life—turned back to her, arms crossed over his wide chest. "Are all girls' bathrooms like this?" Ugh, she wanted to slam her head against the pretty pastel colored walls. Tyler or Jagger or whatever name he went by drove her nuts.

"Why? You have a bathroom fetish? The tidy-bowl man turn you on?" The words slipped out faster than her hand could move to cover her mouth.

Cowboy snickered then used two fingers to push the brim of his straw hat up. Husky blue eyes stared straight back at her and made the breath catch in her lungs. Holy snow cones in hell, this man was gorgeous with a capital G. No wonder he wore the hat tipped down. If hetero women caught sight of his angel/sinner face, the man would be mobbed and molested anytime he set foot in public. Sadly, while she could and did appreciate his stunning good looks, only one man made her panties damp and it wasn’t the hottie cowboy.