Wild Card (Leaving Las Vegas)

by Aleah Barley

  Leaving the highway had been a smart move—the only one he had left—but it had thrown them off the direct path and they’d burned too much gas, going too few miles. He frowned at the gauge as he pulled the truck off the road. Gas was going to be a definite problem, but not until sometime in the morning.

  “No hotel room?” Gina asked sleepily from her side of the truck.

  “You know a place that will take payment in jerky?”

  “Probably not,” she sighed. “I could really use a shower. I smell awful.”

  “Lilacs,” Finn muttered. She smelled like the lilacs outside his bedroom in Chicago, like hopes and dreams and so many bad decisions, he couldn’t even name them all. “Your perfume smells like lilacs,” he repeated a little louder.

  “It’s not my perfume. It’s my leave-in conditioner—for my hair.”

  “Either way, I like it.”

  “Good to know.” Gina shifted in her seat, turning to look at him head-on.

  There was no light on the road, no way for him to see the rich hazel color of her eyes or make out the constellation of freckles on her nose, but it didn’t matter. Not when he’d spent so many hours studying her face while he pretended to look at the road.

  “We’ll find someplace to wash up in the morning,” he promised. “Maybe there’s a stream or something around here.”

  “A stream is not a shower,” Gina said.

  “In the morning,” Finn said. “I promise. I’ll find you a shower in the morning.”

  He couldn’t go any farther tonight. His head was pounding. His muscles were sore. He was dead on his feet. He—

  “Thank you,” Gina said, so softly he almost couldn’t make out the words. “You saved me, and I know I’ve been a pain. Just—thank you.”

  There was a rustling in the darkness, and something soft pressed against the side of his mouth, fluttering gently like butterfly wings in afternoon sunlight. It took him a moment to figure out what was happening, to recognize the feel of soft lips against his skin and the familiar taste of hot dogs and trail mix.

  Gina was kissing him.

  His shoulders tensed. He needed to push her away. It was the only move that made sense.

  Finn was a cop and Gina was a protected witness.

  He wasn’t worthy, and she…

  She was everything.

  Forget what made sense.

  There was no time to think about his job—or his responsibilities.

  All he could do was turn his head to press their lips together. It had been so long since he’d kissed a woman. Was he doing it right? Did it matter? His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her in tight against him. Their bodies fit together perfectly.

  God, she was soft in all the right places, like a peach just waiting for him to dig his teeth in. She let out a soft moan, and her lips opened. Her tongue darted out to skim against his mouth, tasting him completely.

  It was like nothing else he’d ever experienced, and he wanted more.

  He wanted everything.

  He wanted to lay her out flat on the truck seat and run his hands all over her body.

  He wanted to tease her flesh with his fingers and taste her skin.

  He wanted to strip her bare and take her in every way a man could take a woman.

  Even if he didn’t deserve her. Even if there was no reason to think she could trust him… Hell, most days he didn’t even trust himself. He’d be fine for days, and then he’d see something—someone—broken and battered on the side of the road and he’d want to hit something.

  But he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted her.

  Heat surged under his skin, and blood raced downward to fill his cock. He was rock hard and ready to go. All he needed was a little friction.

  “Oh, God,” Gina whimpered. “Oh, God. Oh—”

  Finn’s fingernails dug into his palms hard enough to leave marks, and he ripped himself away.

  His breath was coming faster. His heart was slamming up against his rib cage. The large truck cab suddenly felt like it was only two inches wide. The center console between them was a thin line—and it would be so freaking easy to cross.

  Finn forced the door of the truck open. “I’m going to find a tree. You should probably do the same.”

  Gina’s laughter was soft. Her voice was husky. “Sure you don’t want me to hold it for you?”

  “No.” Finn spun away, struggling not to come in his pants. He needed to put some distance between them. He trudged off into the distance, wishing he had a flashlight. He was from Chicago. He’d grown up on the mean streets—not in a freaking cornfield.

  The first time he tripped over a rock, he swore angrily. The second time he tripped, he stopped. He’d been walking for a little over five minutes—far enough so Gina wouldn’t hear what he was doing if he was quiet.

  He was still hard, and it wasn’t going down anytime soon. Not when he could still taste her skin on his lips.

  Why the hell had she kissed him?

  Why had he kissed her back?

  He unzipped his jeans and palmed himself, biting back a groan as his erect cock filled his hand. How long had it been since he’d done this? He began to rub himself. Gina had offered to hold it for him. What would it feel like if she were the one touching his dick? Would she be gentle, or would she grip him hard and hold on tight?

  Finn’s grip firmed as he imagined Gina’s hand against the waist of his jeans, her full curves pressed tight against his body, her lips—

  In his mind’s eye, Gina’s soft lips quirked up into a saucy grin. “Forget holding it,” she murmured, her slim fingers fumbling to undo the button on his jeans and tug down his zipper. The sound of metal teeth separating echoed in the darkness. “I want a taste.”

  “You’re a bad girl,” Finn growled.

  “Sure.” There was no denial, no prevarication. Gina was definitely bad. Not criminal, but naughty. Staring up at him, she was lusty and elemental.

  Pure wanton heat with gleaming hazel eyes. “If you ask nicely, I’ll give you lessons.”

  “Lessons?”

  “In how to be bad. You do want to be bad, don’t you, Finn?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, her hand slipped under the band of his cotton briefs, and she palmed his erection. Her fingers were cool against his hot shaft. Every move she made was practiced and perfect. Her thumb flicked over his uncut cap.

  “Hell,” Finn swore as he came, erupting harder and faster than he ever had before.

  He cleaned himself off before heading back to the truck—and Gina. Every step he took was a reminder of what he’d done. Kissing a witness was against department rules.

  Kissing Gina?

  That was another issue altogether.

  Kissing Gina was like a drug, completely and utterly addictive. He’d only done it once, and he already wanted more. He wanted to move mountains, fight dragons, and promise her things…even if he knew he couldn’t be trusted. Hell, he wanted to keep his promises, to keep her safe and protected, to hold her tight and never let go.

  “Finn,” she called as he approached the truck. Her voice wavered slightly. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

  Just her voice was enough to make him half hard again. How was he going to be able to sleep next to her all night? Finn frowned. “Don’t mention it.”

  “I just owe you so much—”

  “And you thought you’d pay me back with a kiss?” Finn’s burgeoning erection deflated. “You don’t have to do that, Gina.”

  “I know that,” she snapped back, her uncertainty gone. “I kissed you because you’re smoking hot. I’m apologizing because I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  “You think I’m hot?”

  “Blue eyes, square jaw, shoulders for miles? Yeah, I think you’re hot.” There was a short pause. “Of course, then you open your mouth and the whole knight-in-shining-armor fantasy goes right out the window.”

  “You don’t like my mouth?”


  “I just think there are other things you could be doing with it.”

  Like taste her skin and tongue her firm, high breasts. Finn let out an angry groan as he turned away from the cab and headed toward the back of the truck.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere.” He lowered the rear gate and dragged his tired ass up into the truck bed. The black plastic liner wouldn’t be exactly comfortable under his back, but it would be better than tossing and turning less than a foot from Gina’s enticing flesh.

  Less than a minute later he was asleep.

  …

  Sunlight hit Gina like a crowbar swung by an angry bar owner, slamming down against her skin and prying open her eyes. She groaned angrily, hurrying to roll up the truck window she’d left open during the night. She closed her eyes.

  It didn’t help.

  Nothing helped.

  “It gets bright early here,” Finn chuckled as he pressed a water bottle into her hands.

  “How are you awake?” Gina unscrewed the cap and forced herself to swallow a long gulp. Her eyes cracked open. “Where’s the coffee?”

  “We didn’t buy any.”

  “Kill me now.”

  “Dig a grave in this weather? Too much freaking work. If I was going to do that, I’d have let you die yesterday. Skippy and his pal could have taken care of disposal.”

  “Right.” Gina took another sip of water.

  Finn had saved her. Twice. He wasn’t about to let her die from lack of caffeine. He’d find her some coffee…and a shower.

  He’d promised her a shower, and Gina had been so thankful she’d practically jumped him.

  A rough groan escaped her lips.

  She was an idiot. Finn wasn’t a friend or a Friday night flirtation. He was a cop who’d spent the day saving her ass from bad guys and bullets…a hero who’d made hard decisions without breaking a sweat.

  He probably had a girlfriend.

  Straightening up, she turned to look at him. It wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning, he’d spent the night snoozing on hard plastic—and he still managed to look drop-dead gorgeous.

  Of course he had a girlfriend.

  “You get any sleep?”

  “Enough.” Her skin flushed as she remembered long dreams about a smiling man with sapphire eyes and strong muscles who’d kissed her savagely. Heat buried itself deep in her core. In her dreams, her lover hadn’t been hesitant, he hadn’t waited—and he certainly hadn’t turned away. He hadn’t even asked permission.

  He’d stripped her naked and spread her across a king-size bed. “Gina.” She’d whimpered every time he said her name. “Beg me,” he’d demanded.

  “Please,” she’d said. “Please.”

  “Not yet.” He’d smiled down at her as his callused fingers skimmed across her body and buried themselves between her legs. One long finger thrust inside her, making her gasp his name—

  Her brow furrowed. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember her dream man’s name.

  Not Finn.

  It couldn’t be Finn. She refused to let it be Finn.

  The detective had made his opinion on her clear, running away after just one kiss. Gina wasn’t going to bother fantasizing about a man who didn’t want her, but if she could find a man like Finn, someone warm and kind, someone who could keep her safe when she had everything to lose…

  Gina’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten real food since the hot dogs the day before, and it didn’t look like that was going to change anytime soon.

  If they’d been able to buy groceries, maybe Finn could have cooked. Gina burned water every time she turned on her stove, but Finn’s girlfriend probably cooked.

  Lucky bitch.

  “You want jerky or a Snickers?” Finn asked.

  “Coffee,” Gina repeated her earlier demand. “Please.”

  There was a long pause, and then Finn nodded. “I’ll get you some coffee.”

  And there it was again, the reason she’d kissed Finn last night. The reason she’d dreamed about his long fingers playing her body like a piano, making her gasp and moan until she finally came, crying out his name as his fingers thrust inside her.

  In her dreams, it hadn’t ended there. The afterglow had left her floating, but Finn had never stopped touching her. He’d kissed her softly on the mouth, curled his fingers through her hair, and then thrust forward to fill her with his throbbing erection.

  In her fantasies, the man was hung.

  He was also so freaking thoughtful, promising her a shower when they were lost in the wilderness and coffee when they really should save all their money for gas. More importantly, she knew he’d follow through.

  Other men had promised her diamonds and rubies with smiles on their faces and lies in their hearts, but she’d never believed them.

  Not like she believed Finn.

  If he said he was going to get her coffee, then that was exactly what he’d do.

  And if he promised to save her?

  Then the bad guys had better watch out.

  “You’re a good man, Finn.”

  “I’m really not.”

  “Your girlfriend’s a lucky lady.”

  Finn’s lips quirked up into a dimpled grin. It wasn’t fair.

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  The news should have made Gina smile. The sexy man sitting next to her was available.

  Instead, her heart started pounding so fast, she thought it might explode.

  He hadn’t walked off the night before because he had a girlfriend.

  He just didn’t want her.

  Chapter Eight

  The easy camaraderie they’d shared the day before was gone. Finn’s brow furrowed as he settled into the passenger seat after two hours of driving. They’d bought coffee at a small town just over the Kansas border and Gina had happily sucked the black liquid down, but she hadn’t looked at him once.

  He didn’t like it at all.

  Now, it was her turn to drive—something he should have given her the night before—and his turn to sit in the passenger seat and watch the scenery pass him by.

  He spun the dial on the radio, searching for the happy upbeat music Gina had been listening to the day before. No luck. He finally settled on a country station, turning the volume down so it was just background noise.

  They needed to talk.

  Gina needed to look at him.

  “You’re missing work,” he said. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Not likely.” She shrugged. “I’ve probably been fired already. My bad luck is somebody else’s lucky break. In Las Vegas, there’s always a new girl waiting to step up to the first string.”

  “You need a better job.”

  “It’s the best I could get. Better than what I did before.”

  “Right.” Finn sipped his coffee. “The police force isn’t like that. I’ve been out on rest and recovery for six weeks, and they’re keeping my position open for me. Hell, the brass are the ones who made me take so much time off in the first place.”

  They’d insisted—saying it was for the best—no matter how many times he’d asked to be put back on assignment. He’d even offered to work desk duty, but they didn’t want him in the building. Something about liability issues.

  Gina’s hands clenched. Her delicate skin flushed a delicious pink. “You were injured?”

  “I was shot, twice.”

  “By a criminal?”

  “By a scared kid with a stolen gun.”

  “Damn. Did you kill him?”

  “I’m not a murderer.” Not quite. Even if he could still remember the sound of his fists against a man’s head. The sickening thud, like a melon hitting the pavement. He swallowed hard against the memory.

  “It would have been self-defense, right?”

  “He was fifteen years old. It would have been murder.” Finn sighed. He’d already had this discussion twice, once with his boss and once with his younger brother. His mother
hadn’t said anything—she still wasn’t talking to him—but he’d heard her in the background at Colin’s house, cursing a blue streak.

  None of them had really listened to him.

  They’d called him a good man. “My baby,” he’d heard his mother say. “Too kind for this world.” They’d praised him for not shooting a teenager in the desert, while all he’d been able to think about was controlling the heat in his veins. The rage.

  Gina just tilted her head to the side, as if she was considering his words. “You’re right,” she finally said. “But I’m glad you didn’t die.”

  It was better than nothing.

  Finn relaxed slightly. “Want the rest of my coffee?”

  She took the cup from him before he could change his mind. “Dude, I’d blow you for the rest of your coffee. If you were interested.”

  “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

  “Because it makes you uncomfortable?”

  “Because you should have more self-respect.”

  Some man on the radio was singing about how his woman had done him wrong, his dog had left him, and—to top things off—his truck had done broke down. All Finn could concentrate on was Gina’s reaction to his words, the way her breath slowed, each ragged gasp for air coming only after he thought she couldn’t go on any farther.

  He’d been right when he told the chief he wasn’t good with women. But once upon a time, he’d known about things like tact and decency. Now, he’d insulted her.

  He’d blame exhaustion, but with the coffee still powering its way through his veins, he actually felt pretty good.

  “I didn’t mean it—”

  “Yeah,” Gina said. “You did.” There was a long pause. “It’s not about self-respect, Detective. It’s about reading the room. It was a joke. I wouldn’t give you a blow job for some coffee—you’d have to get me at least a triple-shot latte with foam for that pleasure—but you don’t know that. You don’t know me at all.”

  “I’d like to.” Finn swallowed hard, surprised by his own revelation. “I don’t exactly make friends easily. I always had something else to do—a higher calling—and now…” He shrugged. When he was younger, he’d never been particularly popular, the oldest member of a gang of fighting Irish siblings. He’d had his brother, his sisters, and a heart full of righteous fire.