Follow the adventures of Max 'Ripper' Cutter and Maggie 'Magpie' Harper, two ace pilots at the top of their game. Whether it's surviving Hell Week, exploring uncharted space, or dealing with a unique family situation, Cutter and Maggie rise to the challenge.
Book One of Top Dog Pilots
Surviving the Trap
Available on Amazon
Groggily, Max glanced at the clock wondering why Maggie didn't just look for herself. "Twenty-two minutes." Yawning, he sat up, blinking and trying to focus. "Why?" Something seemed off with her, but he couldn't pin it down, so damned tired his brain rebelled against anything taxing.
Maggie grabbed his arm, tugging him out of his seat. "Come on." She led him out of the ready room, not giving him time to ask questions. Questions she wouldn't answer anyway if she didn't want to. "Come with me." Not letting go, she made her way down the corridor and across a passageway.
Max tried to play catch-up. By the second day of madness, he'd learned real, honest rest would not be an option and trained his body to go on half-alert when not in the cockpit, sort of like being on standby. He figured it the only way he could catch some sleep. Maggie had effectively interrupted his schedule of a catnap and bracing shower followed by hauling ass back to the hangar deck to run pre-flight checks. The routine played like a mantra in his head. Nap, shower, checks.
So, right. Running a little behind here. Max didn't know what Maggie wanted, but she seemed determined to drag him as far away from the ready room as possible. "Maggie, where are we going?" And how the hell did she even have the energy to walk right now. She almost crackled with vigor.
Maggie slowed down, but didn't let go of his arm. "Cutter, just shut up and come with me." Without another word, she rounded the next corner to duck through an open hatch, quickly pulling Max in behind her.
He stumbled a bit, barely clearing the raised threshold before she dogged the hatch. They were in an empty causeway. One used if a fire broke out on the ship. It was supposed to remain empty unless the fire signal had been activated. Clearly, the lack of sleep had Maggie unhinged.
Reaching to undo the hatch, he muttered. "You know we can't be here, Mags." Next thing he knew, Maggie had him backed up against the bulkhead, her lips sucking on his neck sending him into a state of shocked arousal. "What the hell?" He shook his head, wondering if he'd maybe fallen asleep somewhere back on the flight deck. "Mags?"
Book Two of Top Dog Pilots
Available on Amazon
Max and Maggie survive Hell Week and start a relationship that works. Tragedy strikes Max's wingman and when Maggie shows up as the replacement, she discovers a very different Max. Not a good thing when he lives to fly… and can't.
Max hauled Maggie to him, clamped his mouth over hers and welcomed the heat. He lifted her, leaving the tangle of clothing behind and relished the feel of her skin against his.
Dropping down to the edge of the bunk, Maggie straddling his lap, he whispered in between kisses. "Missed you."
Her fingers dug into his shoulders. "Missed you, too." She met his lips again and he lost himself in the kiss, content to let Maggie set the pace.
She smoothed one hand down his back and braced the other one on the smooth surface of the bunk enclosure. Her back arched to expose her breasts to his lips, teeth, and tongue. He took advantage of the access and let her responses guide him. The flat of his tongue swiped over a taut peak and her growling moan spurred him to continue.
His hands grasped her hips, urging them up and then forward to sink down over his rigid length. He groaned, mouth ghosting over her skin raising goose bumps along the way. A contrast to the warmth that enveloped and surrounded him when her ass settled back on his thighs.
Maggie let go of him, reached up and grabbed hold of the bar that held the curtains for the berth areas. She pressed down and rocked her hips back and forth, using the slow grind that always kicked up the heat between them.
Her head tilted back and Cutter took advantage, burning a trail of kisses along her throat, over her chin until his lips met with hers. He wanted more, but Maggie had other ideas. She pulled back from the kiss and gave him a shove. Cutter went back without protest and let Maggie have her way.
After all, she wanted his indulgence.
She smiled and planted her hands on his chest. God, watching her, listening to her… so hot. He loved it—her expressive face, the little catch in her throat when her clit bumped against his groin in exactly the right spot. He loved everything about it.
Especially when she wanted to speed things up.
Her fingers curled into her palms and she pressed down harder. "Do you want faster, Cutter?" She added a little twist to her rocking motion, changing things up a bit.
Cutter shook his head back and forth. "No. I want this to last forever." His fingers dug into her thighs as a shudder tore through her.
Book Three of Top Dog Pilots
Dress for Dinner
Available on Amazon
Max and Maggie are training up and coming pilots and life is great. But when Maggie's uncle, a retired admiral, brings his new and much younger bride to the ship for their honeymoon, Maggie takes one look at the woman and sees disaster. An emergency makes her miss the full dress dinner, leaving Max alone to deal with the hot simpering mess.
Maggie observed her new auntie in action. Her fingers lingered too long on the sleeves of the male officers. Her eyes flashed promises at each and every one. She thrived on suggestive words and innuendo. And she had a throaty laugh that seemed to be a mating call. Maggie would bet the woman had claws when crossed.
She aimed to find out.
Working her way through the throng of men packed around the vivacious redhead, Maggie smiled sweetly. "Uncle Artie suggested I show you to the head… sorry, the facilities, so you can freshen up a bit." She turned to the disappointed masses. "Sorry, boys. She'll be back later." Maggie didn't wait for Celine to respond. She grabbed the woman's arm above the elbow and dragged her down the corridor.
Celine stumbled along beside her, the heels of her fuck-me shoes skittering on the nubby surface of the deck. Maggie shoved open the hatch and tugged Celine inside.
The other woman whirled around to face her. "What. The hell?" She tossed her head and straightened her shoulders.
Maggie smirked. "I'm sorry? You weren't done holding court?" She turned the water on and rinsed her hands. "I'm sure the guys will understand. None of them want to piss off a retired admiral."
Celine rolled her eyes and snorted. "Please. I've got Arthur wrapped. He finds it amusing when all those young bucks fawn all over me." She moved to stand in front of a mirror, adjusting the bodice of her dress.
Any lower and her tits would fall out.
Maggie shook her head back and forth. "You know, Celine. The thing about manipulative creatures like you is… you always think you're smarter than anyone else."
Celine's lips curved up in a nasty smile. "I usually am, darling."
Maggie shrugged. "Maybe. But the other thing about your type…" She moved to stand behind the other woman, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "And this is the best part, so pay attention." Celine narrowed her eyes, but said nothing. "You always trip yourself up. You can't help it." Maggie backed away, giving Celine room to refresh her lipstick. "Believe your own hype and eventually, it'll bite you on the ass."