Williams Wings of Honor

1. Auflage 2014
ISBN: 978-1-4835-1977-7
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 250 Seiten

A ruthless, crazed serial killer terrorizes North Carolina. He's not killing teenagers with a grotesque butcher knife, but instead shooting down unarmed, helpless small planes over the blue Carolina skies while flying a replica of the 'Red Baron's' triplane. If you want a fast-paced action/adventure novel about a battle between two men for the sake of honor, buy WINGS OF HONOR and buckle up your seat belt for an action-packed flight.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Williams, Jay

Leseproben

Chapter II Her skin was rather pale, more so than he thought normal considering the warm weather, but it was still pleasing to the touch. He ran his fingers gently over that skin, along her side, as she reached up to playfully run her fingers through his uncombed, red hair. He let his hands roam to her small, but firm breasts, and was surprised to discover that her heart was beating much faster. She closed her eyes and her breath became shorter and quicker as he kissed her nipples and softly kneaded her breasts. “So, I seem to be having an effect on you?” he said, slightly amused. She answered with a low moan and pulled him down on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist. As he began to slowly gyrate his hips, her moaning became more intense. She wrapped her arms around his back, pressing his chest against hers, and dug her fingernails into his skin. His breathing soon matched hers as she pulled him closer still, almost as if trying to pull him through her. He was now undulating his hips rapidly, with her body responding in perfect rhythm with each thrusting stroke. Finally, she let out a soft gasp and then rolled him over onto his back while remaining astride his hips. She kissed him tenderly, then looked into his green eyes. “Yes,” she said breathlessly, “quite an effect.” “A first, I believe.” “No, no. Last time too, but I was able to hide it.” He looked up at the petite body that rested so lightly on his waist, and let his hands glide over her tight stomach and bony hips. Not much makeup this week, he thought, as he looked at the alluring face that was surrounded by short, blond locks. Looks even younger without makeup. Nineteen or twenty. He gently rolled her onto her side and got up off the bed. He looked at his watch, then put his clothes on quickly. She lay back on the bed and watched him as he buttoned his shirt. “Not getting dressed?” he asked. “Think I’ll rest a bit. Don’t have ta get ta work ‘til later. Until night.” “Saying I wore you down?” “Sure, lover.” He laughed slightly, then slipped into a dark suit jacket. Lover? She hadn’t used that one before. Could be a problem. He pulled his wallet out and placed three twenties on the nightstand. She looked at the money, then coyly looked up to his unemotional green eyes. “Free, Paul, if you promise to take me to dinner some time.” Smiling, he bent down and kissed her forehead, then placed a ten-dollar bill with the other money. “See you next week. Same time.” Opening the door, he turned for one last look at that seductive, compact body. She gave him a pouting expression, but he just winked and walked out. It’ll be a tough ride back, he thought as he walked to his car, but then, it was always hard to go back to work after seeing her. There was a soft rumble and a shrill whistle coming from the west, and he looked up to see that about a mile away an F-4 Phantom was making its approach to the Raleigh-Durham Airport. The camouflaged jet was still 2,000 feet up he judged, but with those powerful engines it could be heard for miles. He smiled as the fighter continued its descent, but soon lost sight of it because of the trees behind the small motel. Jumping into his car, he fastened the shoulder harness and drove back to downtown Raleigh. The office was in an apparent state of transition. Most of the furniture was pushed into a corner, the walls were bare except for a few naked picture hooks, and books were stacked below empty shelves. There were still unpacked boxes in his office also, and he was slowly pulling folders out of one of them when his secretary knocked on the door. After she peeked her head in the door and announced a visitor, he stood up and solemnly walked to the door, where he met a heavyset man who wore a gray suit and an aura of extreme energy. “Paul O’Reilly? I’m Jack Hutchinson,” the man said in a thick Carolina accent. “We talked a few days ago, and I thought I’d jest drop by and meet y’all in the flesh,” he drawled. “Oh, yes. Come in, Mr. Hutchinson. I’m surprised to see you so soon, but it’s always good to meet new clients.” He looked back out the door at his secretary. “No disturbances please, Judy.” “Okay, Paul.” He motioned for the stocky man to take a seat, then sat down behind his cluttered desk. With slight annoyance, he moved several stacks of paper out of the way, then pulled a small folder out of the center desk drawer. “O’Reilly. Hmm. Isn’t that Irish?” Hutchinson asked, smiling. Paul looked sharply at Hutchinson, and seemed to get a little red-faced. “It’s an Irish name, but I’m not Irish,” he said evenly. “Full-blooded American, just like my folks.” “Sorry, sir, I wasn’t tryin’ to insult you. Just the name sounded so, uh, Gaelic.” “No insult taken. Now, although I only got to glance over your statistics briefly, it looks as if I will be able to help you.” “And the financin’?” “No problem.” “I heard tell that y’all were one of the best accountants around. It looks like you may be one of the better business managers too.” “Thanks. One point though,” Paul said raising a finger. “This deal must be confidential between us. Not that it’s illegal. Just for, oh, safety reasons, we need to keep this between you and me.” “I understand. No complaints. And your boss?” “He’ll be informed, but only after most of the deal is completed and going strong.” “Heh, heh. Guess that’s about all I need to know. Say, I thought I’d heard you’d lived here awhile. This looks like y’all just got here,” he said pointing to the boxes. “Oh, no. Been in Raleigh quite awhile. Just changed offices and positions. The man here couldn’t seem to stand the heat, so I moved up.” “Hmm. Definitely sounds like you’re the guy for my account. Well, I guess I better let y’all get back to unpackin’. Let me know when there’s movement.” “You’ll be the first to know.” Paul walked Hutchinson to the door and let him out, then returned the file back to the drawer and locked it. He pressed the button to the right of his desk and asked his secretary to come in. She walked in a few seconds later and stood in front of his desk. “So, what are you doing this Saturday?” Paul asked. “Waiting on your call.” Paul smiled and nodded his head. “Probably about ten. Sound okay?” “Perfect, but is that all you dragged me in for? Made me leave some life and death typing? Maybe you thought that I thought that with your step up you’d go looking for a step up in women. Well, think again if you think I’m going to let you get away from me that easy.” “Huh. I’m not sure what you said, but the only reason I moved up was to get a good secretary.” He gave her the best Cheshire Cat smile he could muster and winked. “By the way. Please don’t mention to Gene that Mr. Hutchinson was here.” “My lips are sealed.” “Until Saturday you mean.” he said, raising one eyebrow. She smiled coyly, then left the room as Paul began to unpack a box next to his desk. “Weather permitting of course,” he said quietly to himself. After putting the trashcan inside the garage, he pulled the large door down and locked it. He looked around the neighborhood and was amazed at the lack of activity. No kids playing ball in the street, no beer-bellied neighbor watering the front lawn. Pretty dead. All eating supper at the same time? He casually strolled to the front door, unlocked it and walked in. There was a strange odor to greet him at the door, and he stood in the doorway trying to guess what it was. Meatloaf and sauerkraut? He grimaced and wrinkled his nose at the thought. The sound of a few pans being shifted around came from the kitchen, and he closed the door and began walking in that direction. The mail was sitting on the table by the stairs and after picking up the two letters, he continued to the kitchen. “Hi, dear,” he said to a blonde who was busy scraping the contents of a pan into a bowl. “Hi, hon,” she said quickly. Paul leaned against the doorway and admired the blue-eyed cook. She was wearing a sweatshirt and some very tight blue jeans, and he was surprised how that shape still excited him after all these years. “Uh, no hello kiss?” he asked. “No time. I’m trying to salvage a supper that had to be delayed for someone who couldn’t get home on time.” He looked at the two letters. “Sorry.” “Sometimes I get the impression that this is only some small airport for you to refuel at,” she said while rinsing out the pan. He scanned the small letter he had opened, then turned the page over. “Now, Karen, you know that isn’t true. Hmm.” He looked a little closer at the letter and turned his back to his wife. She put the pan in the sink and walked to him, then reached around him, pulled him...