She hums against my mouth, then steps away, her cheeks nicely flushed. “You distract me like that and we’ll never fly.”

“Do your thing, captain.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “I’ll be good.”

“Debatable.” Stella has a clipboard and goes over the plane with the same intense inspection I give my guitars before a show. Yeah, I have a roadie take care of them during, and put them away after, but I tune my own equipment and it has to be exact.

Seeing Stella put the same care into something is a surprising turn-on. I never thought I’d want to jump a woman just from watching her check the flaps on a plane wing, but there you go; I’m hard and shifting my feet as she pulls out a small glass tube and fills it with gas from the wing.

“I had them fill the plane up before we came,” she tells me. “But you still have to check for sediments and make sure it’s the right type of gas.”

“Right type?”

“Yeah.” She moves closer to me, holding up the vial to the light. “There are different mixes. Kind of like the type of gas you pick at the station. We’re looking for a pale blue color. Not red or clear.”

Goddamn, she’s sexy. I barely resist pressing my nose into her hair and breathing her in.

By the time she finishes her exterior preflight inspection, which includes checking out the engine and asking me how much I weigh so she can factor the payload, I’m hard as oak and hot under my collar. But I don’t say a word. This is her show, and I’m going to let it play out the way she wants. No distractions.

Stella opens the door to the plane and tucks the clipboard away before facing me. “Okay, a few things. You might be wondering how a person who has issues with numbers can be a pilot.”

“It hadn’t occurred to me, actually.” A tiny flicker of self-preservation runs through me, and I glance at the plane. “I’m guessing you have it covered.”

She squints in the sunlight. “I’ve passed medical and have been certified. To counteract any possible mishaps, I write certain things down. I am hypervigilant. And I will never, ever put myself or my passengers in danger. If there’s even a hint I’m not feeling it, I land. Pride has no business being up there.”

Slowly, I nod. “I believe you.”

Her answering nod isn’t exactly easy, but her shoulders aren’t as stiff. “That leads me to the second thing. I know I should have asked long ago, but it would have ruined the surprise. Are you comfortable with me taking you up?”

“Are you shitting me? I can’t wait to see you fly.”

Pleasure lights her blue eyes but she doesn’t smile. “This isn’t going to be like a commercial flight. It’s going to be a bumpy ride. Do you get airsick? Tell the truth, because barfing in a small plane won’t be fun. No judgment.”

I snort but look her straight in the eye. “Teflon stomach, babe. Cross my heart.”

She lets out a relieved breath. “Just let me know if you’re feeling sick.”

“Believe me, I’m not into getting sick either. I’ll tell you.”

With that, Stella reaches into the tiny back and pulls out two thin packs with four-point harnesses.

“Flight parachutes,” Stella explains. “Pretty comfortable, all things considered.”

“Parachutes?” I can’t deny that I’m a little shocked and a wee bit unnerved. Because it’s just us. I certainly don’t want to skydive alone. “Are you expecting me to jump out of this plane?”

Her laugh is bright. “No. No jumping. I promise.”

“Then why the parachute? ’Cos I gotta admit, I’ve been in a small aircraft before, and I’ve never been asked to wear one of these. I trust you not to crash. Honestly.”

Stella grins wide, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, thank you, John. I’m relieved. We’re putting them on because it’s the law if I take a passenger up. Now, will you put on the parachute and stop asking questions?”

I’ve never heard of this law, but okay, I’ll humor her. Holding my tongue, I put the chute on, not even cracking a joke when she bends near my crotch to help me with the clasps.

Did I say Stella was sexy when she checked her plane over? That is nothing—nothing—compared to seeing her do her inside preflight check. Or when watching her taxi to the runway and talk to the tower to get the okay to take off. I swear I have stars in my eyes by the time she hits the throttle and we hurtle down the runway in this tiny-ass plane with a cockpit so small, my shoulder brushes hers.

And though I’ve been in a small plane before, the experience of lifting off with Stella, the ground simply falling away as we swoop up into the blue sky, is breathtaking.

She turns and gives me a grin when I laugh. “All good?” she asks, her voice crackling over our headsets.

“Beautiful.” The Atlantic stretches out wide and dark blue to my right. Manhattan is behind us, while below is the pale strip of the Long Island beaches.

We gain altitude before Stella speaks. “Okay. About the parachutes—”

“I swear to God, Stells, if you tell me we’re bailing, I will tie you down and find a way to fly this thing back myself.”

She laughs, the sound small in the headsets. “You never wanted to skydive?”

“Already done it.” She shoots me a surprised look, and I shrug. “It was during my thrill-seeking days.”

“Hmm … Well, at least I know you’re not going to freak out on me. But, no, that’s not what I’m talking about.” She turns the plane, the movement graceful and efficient. “Here’s the thing. I do aerobatics.”

“Like stunts?” And I’m getting hard again. “Are you shitting me?”

Her expression is careful, almost worried about my reaction. “Yeah. You up for some?”

Holy hell. My girl has taken me flying and wants to do stunts for me. I grin so wide, the headphones practically fall off. “Oh, fuck yes.”

Her answering grin is filled with giddy glee. “We’ll start off with a hammerhead. Then do a couple of rolls and a loop. Nothing too crazy.”

“Nothing too crazy, eh?”

The corners of her eyes crinkle. “I’m tempted to show you crazy but we’re not in the proper aircraft for advanced stuff. This plane is for the basics.”

I’ll take her word for it. No need to tell her I’m hard as a freaking plank, that I find her so fucking sexy right now, I’m having trouble concentrating. Why the hell did I tell her we’d take it slow?

A cool calm settles over Stella and it is a sight to see. With deft moves she takes us up into the sky; we’re totally vertical and climbing. It’s a strange sensation, gravity pressing me into the seat back, nothing but blue sky in my field of vision. Up we go until it feels like we’re slowing. Everything seems to stop—a moment of eerie stillness. The engine is clearly running hard but it’s as if we’ve stalled.

It’s kind of terrifying. Yet Stella’s concentration is complete, and I feel safe as houses.

Then suddenly the plane pitches to the left, a total ninety-degree drop-off. And we’re falling, diving straight down. I can’t help it, I whoop like I’m on a roller coaster. The ground is rushing toward us, and then it isn’t. We’re going back up, rolling, ground and sky a blur. My insides are being rearranged, the muscles on my neck strain, and my head feels like a bowling ball. It is fucking brilliant.