Let It Ride

by Jillian Burns

  “Jordan!” her boss came up behind her, soothing the guy with a card for a complimentary dinner before he took her arm and urged her toward the break room. “You know how it works. If someone gets handsy, call security. You never, ever yell at the customers. Now, clock out. Go home.” He gave her a serious glare. “Don’t ever let that happen again.”

  Oh, my gosh. What had she done? She needed this job. And she’d been a model employee for years. Working double shifts, and filling in for absent or late co-workers. He wouldn’t fire her for this one infraction, would he?

  A crazy rebellion boiled to the surface. So what if he did? Hadn’t she already been deserted in this unfamiliar city without a job? She’d survive somehow. Without even bothering to change, she threw her backpack over one shoulder and stalked out of the hotel.

  Forget it. Just for tonight, she didn’t want to be responsible. She didn’t want to keep denying her needs. And she didn’t want to always wonder how hot the sex might have been with Major Cole Jackson.

  Too bad she’d turned him down.

  COLE CRUISED around Vegas, his mind mulling over new strategies to make Jordan give in to him.

  Never mind the challenge, he needed her. It had nothing to do with proving himself to his buddies. He just…needed her.

  And it didn’t take a brain surgeon to know she felt the same pull of desire he did. Their kiss had sparked every nerve ending he had, and he’d felt it igniting all through her and back into him.

  But how to keep her from hitting the all-systems-off button again?

  Winning was all about tactics. Tonight, he’d lost his cool and scared Jordan off. Bad habit. Leaping before he thought. Failing to curb his impulses. Same reason he’d gotten shot down.

  As he pulled the Harley into the Grand’s parking garage, he heard a screech of tires and a car horn honking. From the corner of his eye he caught a flash of red sequins in front of the honking cab. What the hell? Jordan was flipping the driver the bird as she strode past, heading back toward the hotel from the bus stop. And she was staring right at him.

  Their gazes met. Her eyes flared. A tense energy radiated from her. My God. He was completely captivated. Her blond hair flowed around her shoulders, reminding him of a proud lioness.

  He U-turned his bike into the exit lane and pulled up next to her.

  There was a wild look in her eyes. “I’ll take that ride now.”

  Suddenly, he couldn’t think. Maybe it was all the blood rushing south. She wasn’t usually in her work clothes at the bus stop. And she wasn’t usually off this early. Something must have happened.

  He shrugged out of his jacket, draped it over her shoulders and she slipped her arms in. Then he gestured for her to get on. “Where do you live?”

  As she settled behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and her breasts pressed against his back. “I don’t want to go home.”

  Her words socked him in the gut. “Where to, then?” He held his breath.

  “Anywhere. Away from everything.” Her voice trembled.

  He could take her there and beyond. But he’d have to be a world-class jerk to take advantage of her in this mood. “Look, maybe you should—”

  “Just get me out of here. Please.” Her arms tightened and one hand roamed over his chest, the other down over his zipper.

  His breathing hitched and his dick tried to jump into her palm. He clamped his jaw shut. “Zip the coat. The wind bites.”

  Her arms left him and he heard the zip, and when she hugged him this time her hands spread across his stomach and chest. He checked the traffic, then roared out of the parking garage.

  As Cole sped onto Las Vegas Boulevard, all he could think about was the heat, the slightest breath and movement, of her plastered against his back.

  Once they passed the city limits she slid her hand under his belt and cupped his rock-hard cock through his briefs. And even though she hadn’t moved her hand except to accommodate his lengthening, he was the most turned-on he’d ever been in his life. He felt as if one wrong move could have him begging for mercy.

  Why hadn’t he taken her straight up to his room? Because he’d heard the restlessness in her voice. She wanted to escape the hotel and everything it stood for. And so did he. Heading out into the desert night with her clinging tightly to him brought a primal urge to the surface—to haul his woman away from the world and keep her for himself.

  With the eternal lights of Vegas only a glow on the horizon behind them, he slowed down, pulled off the road and into the dirt, and killed the engine. Beyond his headlight’s beam, the sand and scrub disappeared into black nothingness, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. He could hear his ragged breathing, and hers. He could smell his desire. And hers.

  He twisted to look at her, his hands squeezing the handlebars. Wondering if she’d leave him blue-balled, he searched her eyes.

  She framed his face with her hands and pulled his mouth to hers. Her kiss tasted of desperate hunger as she slipped her tongue inside.

  Fumbling to kick down the bike stand, he took control of the kiss, taking it deep and wet. But she pulled away.

  “This is just for tonight, right? Like you said—no promises.”

  “Uh…yeah, sure.” At this point, he would have signed a contract in blood.

  She nodded and slowly unzipped the jacket.

  He unbuckled his belt, gripped her around the waist and pulled her in front of him, onto his lap. While she thrust her tongue deep into his mouth, she somehow straddled the seat to face him and hooked her legs over his thighs.

  After that, things got frantic. Dug through his wallet for a condom. Ran his hands through her silky hair the way he’d been dreaming of. And never stopped kissing her. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth and tongue, or her sweet, sexy whimpers.

  Her hands were all over him, too. Her fingers combed through the hair at the back of his neck, and he shivered. She grabbed the edge of his T-shirt and lifted it to run her hands over his chest, tweaking his nipples until he wanted to squirm and beg. Then she roamed down to unbutton and unzip him and her fingers grazed his stiff, sensitive cock. Their mouths never breaking contact, she pulled down his briefs and encircled him. Sensations exploded. She stroked him with long, sensual pulls.

  Oh, yes. His desire crested. He needed release. He needed to have her surrounding him.

  Only vaguely aware that he’d moaned and growled like some crazed animal, he pushed into her caress. Then her hand and mouth were gone as she leaned back, yanked off his jacket and draped it over the handlebars. Closing her eyes, she pulled her top over her head, taking her bra with it. Thankful he’d left his headlight on, Cole licked his lips at the sight of her lush, round breasts. Blood pounded in his ears as he stared at her.

  His cock twitching, he cupped her breasts and squeezed them, lifting one to his mouth. Her skin tasted sweet and salty and spicy all at once. Her nipples were perfect, large and dusky. He suckled and licked and buried his nose between the heavy mounds as he kissed their silken flesh.

  He might never get enough of them. She was the ultimate high. One taste and he’d become a Jordan junkie.

  As soon as the thought hit, his cock jumped and ached. He trailed kisses down to her quivering stomach, biting lightly, nibbling into her belly button and farther down to the edge of her panties. He wanted to be inside her now. “Take them off.” With both hands, he gripped her waist and lifted her while she reached beneath her skirt and peeled them off, one long leg at a time. “Grip the bars behind you, and put your feet on my thighs.” He cupped her butt and raised her warm pussy to his lips.

  She was wet, so wet for him. He lapped at her sweet juice and licked her swollen clit, teasing it with gentle bites. He didn’t know how much longer he’d last.

  As he plunged his tongue in and played with her soft folds, she made little moaning sounds and called out. He looked up to see her silhouetted against the light, her chest rising and falling, her hair blowing in the sandy breeze. Her ey
es were squeezed closed, and the expression on her face as she opened them pierced him. He’d never had a woman come so fast.

  He slid one hand up her damp back and she let go of the handlebars and wrapped her arms around his neck. Somehow he managed to slip the condom on before she slowly lowered herself onto his cock and he lost all reasonable thought.

  She circled her legs around his hips and settled over him, wiggling into place.

  “Don’t move!” He gripped her hips, unsure how long he’d last in her tight warmth. His boot heels dug into the gravel. In this position he was buried to the hilt, yet he couldn’t push up into her, couldn’t pump into her the way his body screamed for him to.

  With a mischievous smile, she pressed her lips to his neck and trailed kisses up behind his ear, down his jaw and finally covered his mouth.

  She made him frantic, mad for release. He lost control. He gripped her butt and raised and lowered her. Soon she caught the rhythm and braced her arms on his shoulders to rock her hips.

  Indescribable pleasure washed over him, building stronger, faster, hitting him harder. He held on tight, and a strangled cry escaped as he shot deep into her core. Hits of ecstasy bombarded his groin and spread up his entire body.

  Her fingers clenched on his scalp and scraped down his back as he tried to regain his breath. Echoes of the thrill still tingled and stung. He looked up and found Venus on the western horizon and Mars hanging just above the crescent moon. He picked out the Pleiades, Canis Captain and Orion. Anything to take his mind off the fact that he was squeezing Jordan to him as if his life depended on her and his eyes had come damn close to watering until he’d blinked a couple times.

  Anything to forget that he didn’t want to let go.

  4

  THREE HOURS later Cole pulled his Harley into a parking space next to McCabe’s Jeep at Red Rocks National Conservation Area. The sun was inching its way over the canyons to the east, and Cole sat staring at the orange and purple streaks coloring the clouds.

  He wished he was up there, above the stratosphere. He wished he’d never come to Vegas. After the hospital, he should have gone straight to Phoenix to visit his folks.

  Why the hell did he feel as if he’d lost the bet instead of won it? He was supposed to relish the look on McCabe’s face when Cole told him he’d gotten lucky with the Keno girl.

  But she wasn’t just a Keno girl. She was a woman. A woman who’d been upset enough to ride off with him on his bike and do something she’d told him only a few hours earlier that she couldn’t do. And he hadn’t even found out why. He’d just taken what she offered.

  McCabe climbed out of his Jeep, sipping steaming coffee from a cup. “Why aren’t you dressed? You can’t wear—Wait a minute. Isn’t that the same shirt you had on last night?”

  Cole glanced at his shirt. “So it is.” Swinging a leg off the bike, he ignored McCabe’s searching gaze, reached into the back of the Jeep and pulled out harnesses and ropes.

  “You been out all night? Tell me you didn’t…”

  Cole suppressed a smug grin. “All right. I didn’t.” He grabbed the backpack full of their climbing shoes and gloves from the Jeep and nodded to Grady, who’d just pulled up in his truck.

  “Well, I’ll be. Grady, he did it! He nailed Ms. Crash-and-Burn.”

  “Don’t call her that.”

  McCabe grinned. “Guess we can’t anymore. From now on, we’ll have to call her Ms. For-a-Good-Ti—”

  Cole jerked him up by his T-shirt. “Shut up.”

  McCabe stared at him with a puzzled expression. “Okay, Jackson. One good screw and she’s got you pussy-whipped? Didn’t you learn anything from my mistake?”

  “Just because you married a whore—”

  McCabe broke Cole’s hold and slammed a fist into his jaw.

  Cole stumbled back against his bike and pushed off again, fist swinging.

  Grady stepped between them, caught Cole’s knuckles in his palm, and shoved the two buddies apart. “You want to fight, take it somewhere else.” He looked pointedly at the family scrambling out of a minivan with backpacks and hiking boots. “I’ll be on the western cliff.” He picked up his harness and rope and strode away.

  Cole let his breathing slow, rubbing a hand over his stinging jaw.

  “I got an extra pair of shorts in the Jeep,” McCabe mumbled.

  Cole nodded. “Thanks.”

  Turning to pull another backpack from the vehicle, McCabe shook his head. “What can I say? I’m an ass.” He grinned. “I was just pissed you made it with a woman who turned me down flat.”

  A slow grin spread across Cole’s face as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. “No. You’re pissed because now you have to be a monk for the next thirty days.”

  McCabe groaned and cursed under his breath.

  “I NEED A sit-rep, Jackson,” Grady called down to Cole.

  Cole used his T-shirt-covered shoulder to soak up the sweat dripping off his forehead. He was clinging to a measly grade-two slope, shaking so hard he could barely hold on to the rock face. If it weren’t for the harness, he’d have already fallen the thirty feet he’d managed to climb. And Grady wanted a situation report? Hell, couldn’t he see for himself?

  “Hey, Jackson.” McCabe lowered himself back down to Cole’s side. “It’s no big deal. Let’s head down for a beer.”

  “No. I’m fine.” This wasn’t over. Cole set his jaw and raised his foot to the next crevice.

  Ignore the vertigo, Jackson. Push past the dizziness and nausea.

  How many times had he and his buddies climbed these canyons? And he’d always been the first one to the top. Once there, he’d lie on his back and stare at the vivid blue sky, feel the sun dry his drenched shirt, and give the rest of the guys hell for being so slow.

  And now look at him.

  It was the ear injury that screwed up his equilibrium. Same reason the flight surgeon had permanently revoked his flying privileges.

  “Jackson, you got nothing to prove here, buddy.”

  “I’m not quitting.” He glanced up to find his next handhold and the world started spinning again as if he was in a centrifuge chair. The next thing to come into focus was McCabe’s face. He had an arm around Cole’s back, keeping him upright and he looked…concerned.

  Goddammit.

  “You can stay on the side of this mountain if you want.” McCabe let go of him, began releasing the tension in his rope. “But I only have four more days of leave.” He rappeled down a couple of feet. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into this much work. Time for some fun.” He looked at Cole. “How about we watch Grady pay off his part of the bet? I can’t wait to see him in a mud mask and cucumber slices.” He grinned.

  As distractions went, the image had a certain appeal. But Cole burned with frustration. McCabe was only trying to save his pride.

  Too late for that.

  Something inside him shriveled as he made the decision to loosen his rope and follow McCabe down the mountain.

  What was he supposed to do with the rest of his life? He probably couldn’t shoot the Colorado rapids, either. Or hang glide over the Hoover. What was left for him? Some vanilla desk-jockey job? He’d go insane.

  And he’d never forget the expression on his dad’s face at the hospital when he’d heard the news. Though he’d tried to take his son’s grounding in stride, General James Jackson, retired Air Force, had seemed…shaken.

  Maybe Cole should have just stayed in that Iraqi desert and let the buzzards take him. At least then he might have died a hero, instead of ending up some paunchy, pasty, paper-pusher.

  That was crazy thinking. Self-pity was for cowards. And so was giving up. He’d almost reached the ground and jumped the last few feet, landing with a thud that sounded a death knell to his climbing days. He shook off the thought and started gathering up his rope, winding it into a neat loop around his hand and elbow. He’d served his country. He’d thrived on the challenges of combat. And he’d known the risks. He should be thankf
ul. He was damned lucky to be alive.

  And life was for living to the fullest. There were other challenges for him. He still had his bike and he still had—

  The memory of Jordan naked in the dark desert washed over him like a cool cleansing waterfall. The feel of her gorgeous breasts pushed against his chest, and his hands clasping her butt as she rode him as if he was a bronc at the championship rodeo. He shivered, although the temperature must have been ninety-plus degrees.

  Women. That was one adventure still left to him. Wouldn’t it kill McCabe to see Cole take a beautiful woman to his room, knowing he couldn’t have one for another month?

  He went and stood next to McCabe. “Hell, maybe I’ll open that whiskey after all.”

  MONDAY AFTERNOON Jordan dragged herself into work at The Grand thankful that she was off tomorrow. As she entered the females’ dressing room she caught Sherri bent over, adjusting her cleavage for maximum effect.

  Jordan told her, “I’m never taking your advice again.”

  Sherri glanced up at Jordan’s words, and then did a double take. “Oh. My. Gawd. You got laid!”

  Jordan’s face flamed as she dropped her backpack on a bench. “And yet.” She glared at her misguided friend. “I still might not pass differential equations.”

  “Oh, hon, what happened?” Sherri grabbed her arms for a quick hug. “Was it that gorgeous scarred major?”

  Jordan blinked. “Focus, Sherri. My finals? You said sex would relax me so I could study. But now I can’t concentrate at all. And I can’t sleep.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Like you really have to worry, Ms. Brainiac.” Sherri sat on the bench and crossed her arms and legs. “Now tell me all about Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Mm-mm-mm. He was asking about you, you know.”

  “What? When?”

  Sherri raised her brows and gave a smug smile. “Saturday. Wanted to know all about how long you’d worked here and what you did for fun. And Kayla told me that last night she saw the guy with his tongue down your throat right outside these doors. And then you left early…”