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Authors: Jillian Burns

Let It Ride (12 page)

BOOK: Let It Ride
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She scrunched up her nose and stuck her tongue out at him. “Only to my budget.”

The sight of that little pink tongue darting out between her lips sent his pulse racing. “Stick that thing out again.” He lowered his head, filing away the information about her budget, but intent on kissing her.

She raised her chin and closed her eyes. Mmm, those lips.

“You ready?” Snake's gruff voice interrupted Cole's plan.

“Yes, sir.” He strode over to the chair and took off his shirt before sitting down, explaining to Snake where he wanted the tattoo placed on his left arm.

Snake examined what was left of the hawk on his right arm. “That an Air Force insignia? You want it the same on the left?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You get that in Iraq?” Snake asked, gesturing to Cole's scarred torso.

“Yep.”

Snake was quiet for a moment, then said, “No charge.” He turned away to gather his instruments.

Cole started to object. He appreciated the sentiment, but he refused to let his scars make him a charity case. Then he had a thought. “Can I pay for mine and get the lady's for free?”

As if he'd expected the request, Snake nodded. “Sure.”

He looked over at Jordan, who was watching him
with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I don't know…I shouldn't, but…” She shrugged. “I can't let you think I'm boring.”

He nearly choked. “Jordan. One thing you are not,” he said, his gaze roaming down her curvaceous body, “is boring. I think you'd always manage to surprise me no matter how long I knew you.”

She pursed her lips and folded her arms. “Tonight is an aberration, believe me. Normally, I'm very level-headed. I don't usually let myself take foolish risks.”

“Taking risks makes life exciting.”

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Says the adrenaline junkie. Life is all about foolish risks for you, but some people have responsibilities.”

The words cut him like a shaving nick, although he knew what she said was true. “So—” he gave her a mock-serious look “—you made a level-headed decision to go with me that night out into the desert?”

Her gaze concentrated on him, her eyes narrowed and one brow strategically raised. “Okay, maybe not. But at least I didn't choose you from across a crowded casino on a bet.”

“Ouch!” He grabbed his chest and pulled out the invisible blade. “Touché.” He grinned down at her and she chuckled. “I love the sound of your laugh,” he told her.

Her grin got smaller as she gazed at him, but a smile still played around her lips. “Thank you. That was a nice thing to say.”

“I wasn't being nice.” He stared into her amazing eyes, refusing to look away first.

Finally, she broke eye contact. “Can I squeeze your hand when it's my turn?”

He smiled. “As hard as you want.”

As the tattooist worked on his arm, Cole sat stoically, afraid that the smallest wince might make Jordan change her mind. And he wanted her to have that spider on her tailbone. The thought of it, of knowing she was doing something wild, something just for her, really got to him. He couldn't take his eyes from hers. She sat and watched him with a small smile of encouragement. Once, she reached up to push long blond strands of her hair away from her face and he longed to touch her. To kiss her. But it was more than just a physical yearning. Something deeper was happening to him. Something he didn't even want to explore. If he did, it might change everything. And he'd had enough change in his life already.

When it was her turn, she didn't hesitate and he admired her even more because he could sense her fear. She had to climb onto a table, on her stomach, and slide her jeans down just a bit while Snake tucked thick paper towels around her waistband.

At her first grimace, she reached out and Cole took her hand. She needed him. And it felt…not bad to be needed. “So, tell me all about growing up in Iowa. Must've been cool to live in one place your whole life.”

Resting her chin on her arm, she closed her eyes. “Cedar Falls is a whole other world away from Vegas. Slower-paced. Friendly people. In school, kids could be cruel sometimes—I, um, developed early—but I had a
few good friends.” She squeezed his hand hard as the needle buzzed, and he almost wished he hadn't encouraged her. He didn't like knowing she was in pain.

“It was just Mom and me, but she made sure we had permanence in our lives. There's security in that. I can't imagine moving around all the time.”

He shrugged. “That's the life of an Air Force brat. Went to six schools in ten years. My mom was great about the moving, though. Her dad was Air Force, too, so she knew what she was getting into. She always made friends with other officers' wives and had her bowling nights out. Poor Dad, stuck with all five of us kids every week.”

“You think he felt stuck? Was he…resentful?”

At on time, Cole would have said yes, but since his recent conversation with his father…Now, he searched his memory for those nights he and his brothers and sisters were left alone with his dad and all he could remember were fun times around the kitchen table learning to play poker. “No, now that you mention it. I guess that was just my take on it.”

“Must have been how my dad felt,” she said quietly. “He didn't want to get stuck with me. So he took off before I was born.”

Cole brought his other hand up to smooth her hair down the back of her head. “I'm sorry.”

“It's funny.” Her brows drew together. “I don't think I realized until just now, but I don't really miss having a dad. You can't miss something you never had. Sure, I'd look at other girls, my friends, with their dads and wonder.
Mostly, I think I felt the absence for my mom. She tried not to show it, but I think she was lonely pretty often.”

Lonely. Yeah. Cole pictured himself in San Antonio. Alone.

But wasn't that the way he liked it?

She opened her eyes and looked at him strangely. “It's funny how our lives never turn out the way we think they will when we're kids.”

“Yeah, I always thought I'd be the first man on Mars. Now I'd settle for piloting a space shuttle.”

“I bet you will someday.” She smiled at him with lips tightened.

A familiar spasm rose up from his chest to form a lump in his throat. He swallowed past it, forced it back down to the deepest part of his soul. Space was a dream he had to let go of.

“How does it look?” she asked, interrupting his thought.

Cole leaned over to look, focusing more on the soft skin of her back and delicate line of her spine than the sore and bloody spot at her tailbone. “Great.” His hand was completely numb from her squeezing it so tightly, but he didn't mind.

After Snake announced he was done, she hopped down and tried to look in a mirror, but it was still so swollen and red, the spider was barely recognizable.

She grinned even as her eyes sparkled with tears, and whatever had shifted inside him when he first learned about her mother moved another notch.

“Thank you.” She thrust out her right hand to Snake
and shook hands with him, then, after Cole paid and they were on the sidewalk again, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him. “Thank you, too.”

“You're welcome.” His voice had turned hoarse. He held her tightly against him and kissed the pulse at her temple, aching to be with her, in her. But first he would tell her everything. He cleared his throat. “You asked me last night if I was anxious to return to Iraq.”

She pulled back to look at him. “Yes?”

“I won't be returning to combat. I want to. But I can't. I can't fly anymore.” Now that he'd said the words out loud, it felt as if a noose had been loosened from his neck.

Her eyes widened. “Why not?”

“The explosion burst my right eardrum. I'm deaf in that ear, and my equilibrium is shit.” He stopped in his tracks, the core of his fear spilling out. “And if I'm not a fighter pilot, what the hell am I?”

She reached out to him, and her delicate hand touching his arm steadied him. “I don't know what you'll end up doing, but there's more to you than being a fighter pilot. I believe when bad things happen to us, we can choose to see it as an opportunity to make something good come from it. If you search hard enough, you'll find what you were meant to do.”

Her words slammed into him, burning their way deep into his soul. He tugged her into his arms and swept his mouth over hers. Letting go of despair. Giving her, without words, a part of that soul. When he held Jordan, his life didn't seem so empty. Hope was a living thing.
He wanted this night with her. Wanted to wake in the morning in her arms. He trailed hot kisses along her jaw. “Jordan, don't go home,” he begged in her ear. He needed her. He needed her soft body in his arms, her luscious flesh filling his hands. “Stay with me tonight.” Unsure, he stepped away to gauge her reaction.

Her eyes were dark with passion and her lips curved in a half smile. “I already asked Mrs. S to spend the night with my mom,” she whispered.

11

A
LEX WAS
in a nasty mood as she answered her apartment doorbell. Whoever the hell was bothering her at this time of night better be warning her of flood or fire.

She swung open the door growling, and then blinked in shock. “Mitch?” Oh, damn. She never called him by his first name. What was he doing here?

“Hey, Hughes.” Mitch shoved past her and dropped his duffel beside her couch. “Jackson texted me a while ago. He's having company over, said to make myself scarce.”

“At four o'clock in the morning? Why didn't he just get a room?”

“Uh, I don't know.” He headed for her kitchen, yanked open the fridge and started rummaging around. “Maybe cause she works at a hotel. You got any pickles?” He pulled out lunch meat and bread and sliced cheese and set the items on the counter.

“It's Jordan?” She stood behind him in the kitchen.

“Yeah, that Keno girl. You want a sandwich?”

Alex couldn't believe it. She knew Jackson had come back to town, but she'd thought the woman was too smart to see him again.

He grabbed a plate from her cabinet and started building a Dagwood sandwich. “Yeah, I guess that's her name. So, anyway. I can't be around women right now, therefore, I figured I'd crash here tonight.”

Alex ground her teeth. Hot fury rose up from her core and her body shook. That was twice now he'd insinuated she wasn't a woman. What was she, some sort of genderless humanoid life form?

She pictured herself shoving him to the tile floor, ripping off her shorts and tank top and showing him just how genderless she was
not
. Once she had him at her mercy, she'd unbuckle his belt, yank off his T-shirt and jeans and kiss him senseless. Push her fingers through his sandy-blond hair, run her palms over his hard chest—oh, jeez. Had she really just been thinking of her best bud in that way?

Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths; she'd soaked her panties. She snapped to attention, finding Mitch munching away on her food, oblivious.

“Hey, tomorrow's Sunday. You want to head out to Hoover and catch some white water?” He leaned a hip against her counter and wiped his mouth on her one and only kitchen towel.

Alex growled. How could she have a lustful fantasy about this Neanderthal? “I have plans.”

He stopped chewing. “What plans?”

She snorted. “Do you think I sit around waiting to see if you want to go do something?”

His face scrunched up in confusion. “What's your problem lately?”

“I am not at your beck and call, McCabe. My life does not revolve around you.” Alex folded her arms.

“O-okay.” He swallowed and looked down at his sandwich. “Are you sure you don't have any pickles?”

Arrgh! Now Alex's fantasy involved her hands around his neck, crushing the air out of him until he apologized. She shook it off and drew in a cleansing breath. The clueless jerk wasn't worth the effort. “Just clean up your mess when you're done.” She forced herself to turn and head back for her bedroom. Like she'd get any more sleep tonight with him out there on her couch.

Because Captain Mitchell McCabe always slept butt-naked.

 

J
ORDAN HESITATED
at the entry to McCabe's apartment as Cole unlocked the door and led her inside. The place was so obviously set for seduction. The home of a player.

There was a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket next to two wineglasses on the bar, and mood lighting had been left on, along with some soft music. She should feel weird that this was McCabe's bachelor lair, or insulted that Cole had been so sure of her.

But she wasn't.

She wanted this night. This last time with him. She'd had the cab ride back to The Grand and the long motorcycle ride to this apartment complex to think about everything.

Cole had given her a gift he didn't even realize. Being with him she'd learned to let go of fear and
embrace the joy life can sometimes bring. And most importantly, she'd forgiven herself for a youthful impulsive decision.

“I'm going to kill McCabe,” Cole growled as he grabbed a remote off the entry table, turned off the music and turned up the lights. “I didn't tell him to do this.” He looked back at her, his expression hardened.

“Don't worry about it.” She moved close and slid her arms around his neck. “Just kiss me.” She rose on her toes and brought her mouth to his. For a split second she felt him freeze beneath her, but then he swept her into his arms and moved his lips over hers, barely restrained. He fumbled to untie the back of her blouse, but she caught his hand. “I want to undress you first this time.”

His eyes flared but he dropped his hands to his sides and waited.

Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt, placing kisses at each new area of skin revealed. Once his shirt hung open, she trailed her lips down his abdomen and his stomach twitched. When she glanced up, she noticed the little muscle in his jaw tense. Her hands moved down to unbuckle his belt and she followed her finger's path with her lips.

She'd come this far in the role of aggressor, might as well go all the way. Slowly, she unzipped his jeans, then slid her hands under his briefs, and pushed both down. His erection popped free, jutting from a nest of black curls. His hands clenched at his sides.

Her job required her to tolerate a certain amount of objectification, but now the tables were turned. She was
still fully dressed while he was exposed. A feeling of power surged inside her.

He'd pursued her so aggressively, she didn't think he was normally the kind of guy to let a woman take the lead. Yet he waited patiently as she decided on her next move.

Just one finger at first, gliding over the slick head, then her palm cupped his balls and her other hand gripped the hot, pulsing shaft.

With a tortured growl, he grabbed her wrist. “I won't last if you do that,” he warned.

But she wasn't in a cautious mood. “Let's see how long you can take it.” She held his gaze as she sank to her knees and licked just the swollen tip, tasting him. Wanting more, she took him fully in her mouth and swirled her tongue around as she sucked and slid him back out and in again.

He groaned and cursed.

She glanced up. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back. His chest rose and fell and his stomach muscles jerked as her tongue worked along the shaft, teasing him. When she took him deep again, he gripped her head and let out a muffled grunt.

His fingers tangled in her hair, lifting her face to take her mouth in a powerful, bruising kiss. Then he straightened and stared at her. “Where did you come from?”

“Iowa,” she answered blithely.

He grabbed her under the arms, lifted her to her feet, and covered her mouth with his. His kiss was rough, demanding, as he plunged his tongue deep inside. Then he pulled back and stared at her, a question in his eyes. But
all he said was “Jordan.” His fingers played with the soft shell of her ear as he kissed her gently this time, nipping at her lips.

Over and over he uttered her name like a prayer as he kissed down the line of her jaw and into the hollow of her neck. Sweeping her blouse off her shoulder, his hand slipped beneath her bodice to cup her breast over her lacy bra and rub his thumb over the nipple.

She gripped his thick black hair as he reached around, untied her top, and pulled it over her head along with her bra. With exquisite tenderness, he cupped her breasts in his palms and squeezed. It was her turn to moan as he took a nipple in his mouth and suckled.

“So sweet,” he mumbled. He drew her nipple in, tickled it with his tongue and then moved to the other one.

She rocked her pelvis forward at the sudden sharp ache at her core.

As he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, she encircled his erection and pumped him with a slow steady pull. With a guttural moan he yanked her jeans down her legs, and off, then clutched her bottom and lifted her against him. With long strides he carried her down a hall into a bedroom, laid her on the bed and followed her down.

While he produced a shiny packet from his wallet, tore it open and rolled on protection, she pulled off her panties. Their gazes locked as he clasped her under the knees, fitted himself to her and pushed in with a low groan.

The bed shook as he began a rhythmic thrust, pushing forcefully into her, and Jordan locked her ankles around
his waist. He angled his hips to stroke her G-spot while one hand slid between them to find her clit. She moaned and squirmed her hips beneath his steady, determined technique. He played her body with delicate precision, exactly what she'd expect of a man accustomed to performing dangerous maneuvers at supersonic speeds.

Colored lights exploded behind her closed eyes, and she cried out as powerful contractions spiraled up and consumed her. “Cole!”

Overwhelmed. Amazed at the surge of emotion each time they came together. She clung to him as her body wound down from a sensual explosion of heart-squeezing pleasure.

All her muscles trembling, Jordan held him as he made that sound that was half gasp, half grunt and rocked against her one last time. Her love for him expanded as she lay in his arms, at the sound of his moan, and the way he said her name when he came.

His breathing was so harsh she felt each warm puff of air on her neck as he nuzzled beneath her ear. One of his hands still clutched her butt. The other one played with her hair, making her shiver. “I couldn't stop thinking about you in Phoenix. I had to see you again.”

Jordan gripped his shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut. He was still hard inside her. They were still one. “How long will you be in San Antonio?”

“I don't know. A couple of years, maybe. If these job interviews don't pan out, would you consider job-hunting in Texas?”

She stilled. Was he asking what she thought he was?
Mr. I-could-never-see-myself-with-a-mortgage? “I…I'd have to think about it.”

“Fair enough.” Before he withdrew, he took her mouth once more, kissing her with a desperate heat that she returned. Then he slid off the bed and padded to the bathroom.

Jordan rolled to her side and hugged a wayward pillow, watching him as he came back and climbed in beside her, folding her in his arms.

“Cole. I know we only have now. And that's okay.”

 

S
INKING DOWN
,
skin to skin with Jordan, Cole tightened his hold. She was his oasis in the midst of a barren desert. And he wasn't ready to let her go. “I'm not sure it's okay with me. This can't be the last time I ever see you.”

“Well, maybe you can visit me sometime.” He had a leg thrown over one of hers and her free foot rubbed his calf as she stared into his eyes.

He shook his head and cupped her face. “I think I want more.”

“Already?” The smile she gave him didn't reach her eyes.

Cole frowned. How could she even try to joke about this? “I'm serious, Jordan.”

Her false smile faded. “I know. But I don't think there's any solution right now. Let's enjoy every moment tonight. Kiss me, Cole.”

He wasn't ready to drop the subject. Perhaps he'd have better luck discussing it if he pleasured her senseless.

Ducking his head, he began pressing open-mouthed
kisses down her body. His hands caressed where his lips touched. The firm plumpness of her breasts, the little mole beneath her right nipple. The dimple of her belly button, the solid plane of her pelvic bone. She was firm yet curvy in all the right places. Her skin was like the finest silk.

Running his fingers through the dark blond curls at the apex of her thighs, he pushed her legs wide and bent his head to drink from her nourishing nectar. “I want you like this every night,” he mumbled as he suckled deeper. “Wouldn't you like that, too?”

She dug her nails into his scalp and moaned. “Yes.”

“Then come with me to Texas.” He pushed a finger inside her.

“Cole. Don't.” She writhed beneath him.

“I need you there.” He added a finger and suckled harder, teasing her with his tongue.

Her only response was unintelligible syllables and he gave up for the moment, concentrating instead on bringing her to orgasm. And once that mission was accomplished, he began all over again until finally he had to be inside her.

Entwining his fingers with hers above her head, he thrust his hips and sank deep, deeper, until he felt a part of her. As he clung to her hands, pulled out and thrust back in, his mind burst into sensory overload, out of control. He felt himself come apart deep inside.

It was like hitting four Gs, taking his Raptor into a roll, and feeling the pop of breaking the sound barrier all at once, and Cole could only hold on and ride it out.

His brain turned to mush and his body liquefied beside hers as his world was reduced to a blur of damp flesh and the feel of soothing fingers in his hair. And he knew wherever she was, was home.

BOOK: Let It Ride
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