Fighting for Flight by JB Salsbury (easy readers TXT) 📕

be intimidated by my integrity and leave it alone.

His eyes narrow, and his smile grows by the second. “You can’t do it, can you?”

Apparently, my integrity doesn’t intimidate; it instigates.

“Yes, I can.” I say in a high voice that doesn’t even sound like me. What is my problem? Why can’t I just friggin’ cuss? I am not going to let him get the best of me. No way.

“Go for it, baby girl. I’m waiting.”

Girding my proverbial loins, I go for it.

“Shitass!” I blurt then quickly cover my mouth with my hand. My face feels like a Molotov cocktail as the blush takes over my cheeks and neck.

Blake’s face is stoic for two beats before he throws his head back in a booming laugh that gets the attention of every guy in the room. This, of course, does not help my situation. It’s possible, I discover, to have a full-body blush.

“That was fuckin’ awesome.” He bends over, sucking in breath.

“What’s going on over here, Blake?” Jonah’s voice demands as he marches up to us. “Why does my girl look like you just flashed her?”

“Dude, she said, ‘shitass.’ I’ve never heard a sweet curse word before.”

He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to his side. “Of course, it’s sweet. She isn’t capable of anything less.”

My body melts into him, and my blush recedes at the safety of his touch.

“Right. You ready to warm up?” Blake says, a whisper of amusement still lighting his face.

“Yeah, let me get Raven set up and I’ll be right there.”

“Cool.” Blake’s eyes move from Jonah to me. He shakes his head. “You’re something else, baby girl.” Walking away, I hear him mumble something that sounds like lucky bastard.

Jonah’s body tenses at my side, drawing my eyes to him. He looks down at me, and I watch the tension leave his face. “You all right?”

“Of course.” Thanks to him.

“Blake’s not so funny anymore, is he?”

I shrug, slide my arms around Jonah’s middle and rest my cheek against his chest. “No, he’s still funny.”

He chuckles and tugs me to move. “Come on. Let’s find you somewhere to sit.”

We walk to a row of chairs, and he tells me to take a seat. A firm kiss on the lips, then one to the side of my neck, and he moves to meet Blake and Owen in the octagon.

Taking in my surroundings, I notice gigantic posters on the walls, each depicting a different fighter. I make my way past each one, studying the fighters I recognize until I land on Jonah’s.

His poster is by far the most enticing. The photo was taken at an angle, his head turned to face the camera. His eyebrows are dropped low making his eyes look black, and I’m transfixed by the fierceness of his face. No dimples or sexy grin, just pure focus. His lethal arms, posed in punching position, look huge as the vibrant colors of his tattoos intensify the cuts of his muscles. A shiver runs through my body and I turn away to find my seat.

I take a chair up close and set my attention to Jonah in the octagon. It doesn’t take long before I’m gasping for air with my hand covering my mouth to keep from crying out. Watching Jonah in action is terrifyingly beautiful. He moves like a predator, graceful yet powerful. His punches and kicks are controlled as he commands his body. On the mat, as he rolls in a tangle of arms and legs, there’s no doubt he was born for this.

“Baby! Come here.” Jonah’s command is terse with loss of breath.

I look up in horror and point to my chest. Who me?

He smiles, nods, and waves me over.

“This is going to be embarrassing,” I say to no one in particular as I push myself up and head his way.

“I’m going to teach you an arm bar.”

Owen leaves the octagon, giving me a sweet smile. “Good luck, princess.”

My eyes find Blake who is covering his mouth, but his eyes give away his amusement. Oh, real nice.

Jonah and Blake demonstrate a few times, both of them explaining each step in detail with the clarity of professional fighters. I hang on every word, determined to get it right and not make a complete idiot out of myself.

Their instruction complete, they call me over to try. Lying with my back to the mat, I do exactly what I’m shown. After a few minor adjustments, I have Jonah’s forearm in my hands. His arm runs the length of my body down through my legs. His shoulder rests between my thighs and my calves are locked around his torso. I thrust my hips forward.

“Fuck.” He makes a pained grunt, but I continue to hold him in place. “You got it.”

“I did it!” I could break the arm of a man at least twice my size by a thrust of my hips.

Power surges through me and I’m suddenly flipped. Jonah has his huge body wrapped around me like a boa constrictor, his mouth at my ear.

“Yeah, baby. You did it. I’m proud of you.” He whispers before nuzzling my neck and dropping lingering kisses on my earlobe.

I shiver.

“That’s my girl.” He releases me and pulls me to my feet.

Blake is off to the side of the mat. “This,” he indicates by waving his hand back and forth between me and Jonah, “is freaking me the hell out.” He waves us off then stalks away.

I shrug my shoulders and look to Jonah who has both dimples out in full force.

“You’re not the only one,” he mumbles.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Eleven

Jonah

“Still with the same girl. Gotta say, brother, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Owen and I are in the kitchen at the training center, shooting the shit and powering down protein shakes.

“I wasn’t sure I had it in me either, but here I am, one full week.” Pride warms my chest every time I think about the longest and only relationship I’ve ever had. It isn’t at all like I thought it’d be. She