Let It Ride

by Jillian Burns

  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.

  A MUFFLED sound woke Jordan.

  Mom?

  She tried to roll off the couch but strong arms tightened around her, and a large hand covered her breast.

  The sleepy haze fell away and the incredibly soft high-thread-count sheets told her she wasn’t on the couch in her apartment, but in Cole’s—McCabe’s—apartment.

  She was nestled against Cole, his chest to her back, his groin soft beneath her bottom. Damp with sweat, his body was like a furnace engulfing her. Even her perpetually freezing toes were warm and toasty. She wiggled them and felt the hair on his legs, so crisp and masculine. Lying there, she soaked up the comfort of being held by a strong man while she slept, waking up beside someone and feeling…not so alone.

  Except for a small split between the panels, the heavy bedroom curtains kept out even the bright lights of Vegas and she could barely see her hand before her face. With the clock on his side of the bed, she had no clue what time it was. After they’d made love a second time, he’d slipped into a profoundly deep sleep.

  But, no wonder, after the way his whole body had strained and trembled. His need had been a living thing. His expression had been unreadable, but his eyes had held a storm of emotions. Confusion. Resentment. Profound sadness.

  His powerful emotions had transferred to her and resulted in more than just a physical climax. She’d wanted to weep uncontrollably. The rush of oneness she’d felt in his arms only made it harder to refuse his invitation to Texas. She couldn’t and wouldn’t run off with a man again when she had no job and no money. And then there was her mom.

  His body jerked and he cried out, then reared away and rolled to his back, awake now. She could hear it in his rapid breathing, feel it in his tenseness.

  She turned to face him and put a hand on his chest. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’m good.” She heard him rubbing the rough stubble on his jaw.

  She wished she could see his face. Intent on turning on a lamp, she scooted away. But he gripped her hip and rolled on top of her. “Where you going?” His voice was gruff.

  “Cole.” She brushed the hair off his forehead and wriggled beneath him. “I’m only turning on a light.”

  His body relaxed and he eased off her. “Could you not?”

  “Okay.” She waited. When she’d first met Cole, he’d been confident verging on cocky, on the prowl and unapologetic for it. Did he regret letting her see him so vulnerable now?

  “It’s the same nightmare,” he said quietly. His hand found hers and clasped it. “I have it almost every night.” She felt rather than saw him shrug. “Doc says it’s normal.”

  Jordan turned to face him, brought their entwined hands up to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Is your dream about being shot down?”

  “After. It took me a couple of days to get back to forward base, traveling through hostile environment.”

  “Oh, Cole! After you’d been burned so badly?”

  His grip tightened. “In my dream, I can’t find the base. And I know I’m never going to make it back. But I did. So, why do I keep having these damn nightmares?”

  She scooted closer to lay her head on his chest and he circled his arms around her. His heart beat strong and fast beneath her ear. She ran her hand down his arm, and up to smooth his brow. “Maybe you’re still searching for home.”

  He stilled and his breathing stopped.

  Did she really just say that? Once the words were out, she realized how they sounded. Would he think she was agreeing that she should make her home with him? Even if she were willing to actually trust a man not to abandon her, she couldn’t move her mom away from everything familiar. “I mean, maybe once you’re settled in to your new assignment, you’ll stop having them.”

  His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath. “Maybe.” He rolled until she was beneath him and lowered his head for a tender kiss. “You’re probably as sick of hearing me talk as I am.” He gave her another soft kiss as he smoothed her tangled hair out over the pillow. “Thanks for listening.” A deeper kiss this time, his lips stirring sensually over hers. He moved his hips and she felt his hard length press against her thigh.

  As weak sunlight peeped in from the opening in the curtains, he made slow, sweet love to her. In contrast to the turbulent coupling earlier, he refused to be hurried now. Every touch was deliberate, every kiss lingering. By the time Jordan fell into an exhausted sleep, dawn had come and gone.

  The next time she awoke, it was to the sound of a cell phone ringing somewhere far away. Not even sure she’d heard it, she sluggishly sat up, shoving hair out of her face. The clock showed eight-thirty.

  Cole lay on his stomach, his arms and legs sprawled across the mattress. The ring tone sounded again and this time she knew it was coming from her backpack. At the third ring, she climbed over him and ran for it, thinking to at least check caller ID.

  The caller was her home number.

  Mrs. Simco. Oh, no. She tried to slide it open to answer, but the ringing stopped and it went to voice mail. Her hands shaking, she steadied her breathing to call her back.

  Mrs. Simco answered after the third ring.

  “Mrs. S? Everything okay?”

  “Jordan, honey.” Alice Simco’s voice quivered. “I wasn’t sure what to do. I just woke up and your mama is gone.”

  12

  JORDAN had to get home. Terror and guilt engulfed her. She never should have left her mom all night. “Call 911, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  As Jordan spoke, she was gathering up her clothes from the living-room floor. Then she remembered her panties were in the bedroom.

  Cole stirred and rolled to face her as she dropped her phone and backpack on the bed. “What’s going on?”

  A thousand horrible images flashed in her mind as she pulled her clothes on. How long had Mom been gone? How far could she have traveled? Was she safe? Was she scared? Oh please God, let me find her.

  Cole sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Jordan?”

  All Jordan could do was shake her head as she pulled on her jeans. If she tried to speak, the panic might escape past the snarling knot in her throat.

  “Your mom?” Cole asked as he stood and grabbed his briefs and jeans.

  Tears threatening, she nodded. “She’s missing.”

  By the time she was dressed, so was Cole. For the first time since she’d hung up the phone, she looked directly at him. Reasonable or not, guilt writhed in her like poisonous snakes. “I knew I shouldn’t have left my mom for so long. If I hadn’t been so damned selfish.” She clamped her lips shut, d
arted to the front door and rushed out into the courtyard.

  Before she was halfway to the parking lot, Cole had caught up with her. “I’m coming with you.” His long stride had no trouble keeping up with her running.

  “If you’ll just give me a ride home.”

  “Of course. You think I’d make you take a cab?”

  She bit back a horrible remark. He didn’t deserve her anger.

  “Jordan.” Cole put his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll find her. I’ll call some of the guys from Nellis and we’ll get a search party going.”

  Prickly tears threatened again. Crap. She couldn’t fall apart now. She swallowed her emotions and strode to his motorcycle.

  By the time they reached her apartment, a steely calm had settled over her. Her mother wore a Safe Return ID bracelet with the emergency 800 number to call if she was found. Surely someone would spot her now that daylight had broken. And the Las Vegas police understood about Alzheimer’s patients. While Jordan answered the detective’s questions and found a recent picture, Cole pulled out his cell phone and made a few calls.

  Within half an hour search and rescue teams had been formed to comb the area. A canine unit and even a police helicopter were dispatched, and dozens of off-duty military personnel began showing up, offering to make flyers and distribute them.

  “Let’s go.” Cole held out his hand. “We’ll take my bike and you can direct me to the places you think your mom might go.”

  Leaving a willing Mrs. Simco to coordinate search efforts at the apartment, Jordan climbed on behind Cole. No way could she wait around the apartment doing nothing.

  Cole drove her to the familiar areas first: the coin laundry, the grocery store, the college campus. Then they expanded their search to what seemed like every neighborhood on the west side of town, even taking back roads and alleys, crossing vacant fields and driving along park trails where a car could never have gone.

  As the morning turned to afternoon, and the afternoon to evening with no sign of her mom, Jordan’s panic ratcheted up to sheer terror. Every time she began to fall apart, to lose hope, Cole was right there beside her, encouraging her, assuring her that they would find her mother, never giving up and, more importantly, never letting her give up.

  But dusk was settling in, the sun dropping behind the mountains and they still hadn’t found her. Jordan had hoped the evening news programs running her picture might generate at least a tip, but her cell phone remained silent as Cole pulled out of a suburban neighborhood on the very edge of the city limits and headed back to her apartment.

  Mrs. Simco was playing solitaire at the kitchen table with the cordless phone beside her spread-out cards. She stood and offered to make them sandwiches.

  The thought of eating made Jordan nauseous. She declined, but Cole frowned and moved to the table, touching the cards.

  Snapping his fingers, he swiveled to face her. “Have you taken your mom to a football game since she moved to Vegas?” He sounded excited. “Or would she have at least seen a stadium?”

  Adjusting her train of thought from despair to this out-of-the-blue question, Jordan blinked. “We’re not exactly football fans. I don’t think—wait, there’s the stadium at UNLV. Mom would’ve seen it on the way to the campus with me a couple of times. Why?”

  “The cards reminded me. Something your mom said when we were playing Gin. She called me Jeff and kept talking about meeting under the bleachers after the football game. It’s a long shot, but…”

  A chill hissed up her spine. “Jeff is my father’s name.” She thumped his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  It took almost an hour to get the police to call campus security and explain. It was fully dark by the time the stadium gates were unlocked and the lights flickered on. With everything locked up, she didn’t see how her mom had somehow slipped unseen inside locked gates, but perhaps it had been open earlier today. It didn’t matter. Jordan wasn’t leaving without looking.

  The colossal stadium seemed a daunting task, so they split up. Cole took the west-facing bleachers and the security guard accompanied Jordan searching the east. With the guard by her side, she hiked half the length of the U-shaped stadium, checking every concession stand, bathroom and section of seats. Every dark corner she turned, hope would surge, only to be disappointed. Her mom wasn’t here.

  As she rounded the curved section she expected to meet Cole at the halfway point, but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. They continued around, still checking every opening. At an entrance to the field, she saw him. He stood looking down at a large trash can in an alcove, his hair moving in the cool breeze.

  Hope was tempered by dread. Had he found her? Was she all right? Jordan and the security guard raced up the concrete incline, but stopped short when Cole waved them back.

  Huddled behind the plastic trash container sat her mom, looking haggard and petrified, but alive. Jordan clamped her hands over her mouth and broke down. Silent sobs wracked her as she tried to hold in the tears.

  She heard Cole call her mother’s name softly.

  Tammy scrutinized him and then her face lit up. “Jeff! You’re here!” She tried to stand but fell back and Cole dropped into a crouch and caught her.

  “I’m so glad you came, Jeff.” Her mom’s voice croaked. “I have something important to tell you.” Then the sparkle in her eyes died away and her expression crumpled in anguish. “You didn’t come,” she cried. “Why didn’t you come? It’s your baby, Jeff.”

  Jordan went cold inside and her heart broke. Oh, Mom. She knew Mom had been abandoned. But to actually see and hear her pain.

  Cole put a hesitant arm around her mom’s shoulders. “I’m here now, Tammy. Come with me.” When she didn’t fight him, he scooped her up and she flung her arms around his neck and clung to him.

  Seeing Cole’s compassion, watching him carry her mother out of the stadium, Jordan lost all pretense that she didn’t deeply love this man. The feeling was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It wasn’t blind infatuation or lust. No. This was the kind of love that lasts for life.

  FOR COLE, the rest of the night became a blur of police conversations and ambulance sirens, and an unwanted news crew pestering him for the story and hailing him as a hero.

  Used to be, after a long day of combat, he’d have handled the surge of adrenaline with a run around the base or a couple of hours lifting weights.

  But tonight, dealing with all the drama left him drained, as though he’d slit open a vein and poured out everything he had to give. He wanted nothing more than to fall into a bed in a dark, quiet room and sleep for twenty-four hours. He wanted to disconnect.

  Tammy was dehydrated but otherwise unharmed, and the hospital sent her home sedated and stable. Jordan had held up well through everything, remaining calm and in charge until her mother was tucked into bed and everyone had left. Once the last cop was out the door—throwing a parting joke to Cole about joining the force—and Mrs. S went home, Jordan seemed to sag before his eyes. She looked at him a moment and then her face crumpled.

  Cole caught her in his arms and held her up. With a sob, she burrowed her nose into his chest. Her shoulders shook and he felt her tears wet his shirt.

  “Shh, it’s okay.” He rubbed her back, murmuring soothing noises.

  The breath left her body in a whimper and she molded herself against him, holding him. Her cry gurgled against his chest where she pressed her face. “What if you hadn’t been here? I’d have never looked for her there.”

  “All that matters is we found her.”

  “But what if this happens again?” She snuggled into his arms and hugged tightly.

  “Then we’ll deal with it. I promise.”

  “No.” She shook her head and stepped back. “Don’t do that. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You’re all about living wild and reckless and I can’t be that way. I have responsibilities.”

  Wait a minute. Why was he the bad guy here? He’d asked her to come to Texas, hadn’t he? But—a
s dumb as it was—he hadn’t thought about the repercussions moving would have on her mother. What if she took off again? Only this time in San Antonio where neither of them knew the area? Dealing with her mom would encompass a lot more than just an occasional card game and some cold cuts.

  He understood now why she’d refused to discuss moving.

  How had he gotten so involved in this woman’s life? He couldn’t have someone depending on him. Commitment had never been in his plan. How could he even think about any kind of future with someone? Especially when there were greater complications attached.

  He stared into her big blue eyes, filled with grief and fear. And need. As their gazes locked, he wasn’t sure how to explain. He cleared his throat.

  Jordan’s brows drew together and she jerked back, away from his reach. Her expression hardened. “You understand now, don’t you?”

  “It’s not what you think. It’s just—” He ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to choke in a breath. Maybe he wanted to give it a try.

  “It’s just that you didn’t think about my mom before, right?” Her voice was shaky.

  “No, I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t—But my life, right now. I don’t know—”

  “So, go. You have to be in Texas tomorrow morning.” She waved a trembling hand toward the door.

  Cole hesitated. He had to make her understand.

  “Get out of here, Cole. You know that’s what’s best for both of us.”

  His brain was on overload. He didn’t know what the hell he wanted. He had to take a step back, consider all this when he could think more clearly. Tightening his jaw, he spun on his heel and strode from her apartment.

  JORDAN STOOD in frozen shock until well after the roar of Cole’s Harley faded down the street.

  She’d known this was coming. Known it would hurt like hell. She’d finally let herself love again. Need again. And the resulting pain was inevitable.