Riding on Instinct

by Burton, Jaci

  Reality had come and gone. Spence was out of her life. It didn’t matter that she’d fallen in love with him. He hadn’t fallen in love with her.

  Time to move on.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and stared out the window, where people went on with their lives, falling in love, finding that someone to share their world with. For some people it worked.

  For her, it hadn’t. She was just going to have to get it over it. Once she got back to work it would be easier. She’d forget.

  She’d never forget. There was an ache inside her that wouldn’t go away. And at night as she lay in bed, the cool sheets whispering over her naked body, she remembered his touch, his taste, his mouth on hers, and wanted what she couldn’t have.

  Her father was right. She wasn’t tough at all. Every time she thought about Spence, tears filled her eyes. Like now. She swiped them away, angry that she’d let him occupy her thoughts again.

  She turned at the sound of the doorbell, and moved to the door. When she looked through the peephole, she let out a gasp, her heart dropped to her feet, and she broke out in a cold sweat.

  Spence! She looked down at her oversized T-shirt, which was all she wore. She wanted to jump in the shower and make herself presentable, do her hair, put on some makeup.

  No time.

  Ah, hell, it went to her knees like a dress, anyway. She pushed back her messy hair and opened the door.

  His smile was brighter than the sun streaming in through her window.

  “Hey.” She smiled back at him.

  “Hey yourself.”

  She wanted to throw herself in his arms, but she held back. “What are you doing here?”

  “If you let me in, I’ll tell you.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” What a moron she was. She stepped back and he walked in. She closed the door, drinking in the sight of him in tight jeans, sleeveless shirt, and boots. Her throat had gone dry and she fought to swallow.

  “Did you ride all the way here?”

  “Yeah. Took a vacation.”

  “Wow.” He rode from Dallas to D.C. To see her? She wouldn’t begin to hope.

  “Nice place.” He turned to face her.

  “It’s small. One bedroom. Not much to it, really.” She showed him her tiny kitchen and little eating area carved into the corner, then the living room with its view of Georgetown and the Potomac River. “I got it for the view, mainly.”

  He looked out the full-length window and nodded. “I can see that. It’s nice.”

  He continued to stare out the window, as if he was stalling. She waited. Finally, he turned to face her.

  “We . . . didn’t get a chance to talk much after the mission ended. You were hurt and they whisked you away. We didn’t debrief.”

  Debrief? He was here for a debriefing? Not for her, not because he missed her or wanted her or anything even remotely personal. Her heart sank. She lifted her chin. “I filed my report and sent a copy in to General Lee.”

  “I read it. I have a few more questions.”

  She steeled herself so he wouldn’t see her hands shake, then pointed to the sofa. “Have a seat and I’ll answer whatever questions you have. Would you like some tea?”

  He took a seat and looked up at her, his expression unreadable. “Uh. Sure.”

  “I’ll be right back.” She hurried into the kitchen, wishing she could run to her bedroom, close the door, and burst into tears. But that would be what a female would do. That would be what her father would expect her to do—fall apart, show weakness.

  She wasn’t weak. She could do this. No man was going to break her, not even one she loved. She’d let her father hurt her by not loving her. She’d never let another man do it to her again. She inhaled, blew it out slow and easy, then did it again until she reined in her riotous emotions. Once she was calm enough, she grabbed the pitcher of tea and a couple of glasses and set them on the tray. Okay, now she had to think what else she’d need. Ice, lemon, and—

  “I lied.”

  She almost dropped a glass. She spun around to find Spence in the doorway to the kitchen. “What?”

  He walked toward her. “I lied. I’m not here for debriefing.”

  Her heart did a thu-thump in her chest, loud and pounding, picking up speed. “You’re not?”

  Closer now, he kept coming until he was right in front of her. He rested his hands on the counter, caging her between it and him. Heat roared off him, blasting her with everything that was male about him, everything she loved and wanted.

  “No. I’m here because I missed you, because I wanted to see you, to touch you, to smell you.” He leaned in, pressed his face against her hair. “God, I miss your smell. Miss you in my bed at night. I miss fucking you.”

  Oh, God. She couldn’t breathe. Her hands came up to rest against his chest. She felt the fast beating of his heart, equaling the mad pulsing of her own. Her knees were weak, but then it didn’t matter because Spence grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up on the counter, his lips on hers before she could take her next breath.

  She melted. Right there on the kitchen counter, with Spence’s lips on hers, she dissolved into a puddle of desire and need and want and happiness.

  He was here for her. He’d come all this way to tell her he’d missed her. She didn’t need or want anything else but his hands and mouth on her, his tongue sliding inside to lick at hers with velvety softness that was so unlike the steely hard feel of his body everywhere else. The incongruity of it all was such a turn on. The way his lips brushed so lightly against hers, then the way he grabbed her hips and jerked her forward so he could rest his erection against the pulsing wet core of her that screamed out for his touch.

  He moved his hands down her back, lifted her T-shirt.

  “You’re naked under that thing, aren’t you?” He leaned back to stare down at her with a look that burned her.

  “Yes.”

  He pulled her hips forward and lifted the T-shirt, then pushed her knees apart.

  “Damn.”

  He dropped to his knees and held on to the small of her back, coaxing her to lift for him. She leaned back on her hands and slid down to the edge of the counter, her entire body quivering in anticipation.

  His mouth covered her sex, and she tilted her head back while he devoured her pussy, sucked on her clit, sending her into wild oblivion with his mouth and tongue and teeth.

  This was so much a part of what she’d missed about him. Not the great sex—though it was phenomenal, but the fact that he knew her body so well—that he could take her to the peak—and over—so fast.

  And he did, swirling his tongue over the knotted bud that she hadn’t touched herself in weeks. Maybe she’d been subconsciously waiting for him, and now that she had, she couldn’t wait any longer. She fell apart and cried out, slid her pussy along his mouth and tongue as she climaxed in a hard, blinding rainstorm of sensation that pounded her with relentless waves of wet pleasure.

  She was still spasming when he stood, unzipped his pants and put on a condom in record time, then plunged inside her. His fingers dipped into her hips as he pulled out and rammed again. His face was tight as he stared down at the spot where they were joined, then cast his gaze back up at her.

  “Yes. This is what I missed, too,” he said. “Fucking you. Being inside you.” He didn’t slow the pace as he spoke to her in between ragged breaths, and that drove her crazy.

  She couldn’t breathe, could only hold on for this crazy ride that threatened to steal her sanity. She didn’t want it to stop, but the pleasure overwhelmed her as he took her right to the pinnacle yet again with hard, slamming thrusts. He ground his shaft against her clit, swept in to take her mouth and gather her close at the same time.

  Such sweet depth, such emotion that poured from him. He held nothing back this time and she knew it, and that made it all the better for her. That he looked her in the eyes, his emotions raw and exposed as he slid in and out of her, brought tears to her eyes.

  “I
love you, Spence.”

  He stilled, stared at her in wonder, then his lips curled upward in the hint of a smile.

  He thrust, capturing her mouth again until she couldn’t form a coherent thought, could only ride the wave as it crested, then crashed, taking her with it. She whimpered against his mouth as she came again, her orgasm making her clench around his cock. She felt it so deeply, and he cursed, feeling it, too.

  He ground against her and shuddered, groaning against her lips as he came, too, every part of his body straining with the force of his orgasm. She held tight to him as he was racked with spasms, pushing against her time and time again until he finally relaxed.

  She laid her head against his shoulder, felt the dampness under his shirt as she stroked his back.

  “I love you, too, Shadoe.”

  She leaned back and searched his face. “What?”

  “I love you, too.”

  They were still connected, intimately. She pulsed around him. He looked down where they were joined, then swept his gaze back to her face.

  It was the most perfect moment ever. She couldn’t have asked for a better declaration of love. In her kitchen, while he was inside her. While she sat on the kitchen counter.

  He loved her. She sighed, feeling more a woman at that moment than she’d ever felt in her entire life. Somehow, this brooding, love-no-one type of man had just told a woman he loved her.

  She felt rather special about that.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  It figured he wouldn’t know what to do next.

  Come to think of it, neither did she.

  She let out a short laugh. “I have no idea.”

  THEY ENDED UP SHOWERING—AND MAKING LOVE AGAIN IN THERE. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Then again, four weeks was a long time to be apart. They had a lot of time to make up for.

  And Spence could cook! After they cleaned up he went into her kitchen and dragged out eggs, bacon, and bread and started making breakfast. He ordered her to sit at the table and do nothing.

  She ignored him. She made a pot of coffee and poured orange juice into glasses, then set the table.

  “You’re supposed to be resting,” he said, shooting her a frown over his shoulder.

  “I’ve rested plenty. I feel great.”

  His expression changed, his eyes traveling up and down her body. “Yeah, you sure do.”

  She giggled, felt lighthearted and happier than she had since they parted four weeks ago. She slid into her chair and watched him flip eggs.

  “You can cook.”

  He kept his back to her while he watched the stove. “Well, yeah.”

  “That surprises me.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. You just don’t seem the cooking type. I imagined you as a ‘feed me, woman’ type of guy.”

  He laughed. “When we all went to live with Grange, he taught us to cook, then left us on our own and told us if we wanted to eat, we could fix our own meals. Otherwise, we could starve. But he said he wasn’t going to be our maid, cook, and housekeeper so we’d better learn to take care of ourselves. Since none of us were fond of baloney sandwiches twice a day, we figured it out.”

  She leaned back in the chair and grinned, imagining all those guys mucking about in the kitchen. “I’ll bet that was interesting.”

  “It was. We barbecue a lot. Make a lot of salads.”

  She nodded. “As long as you make it work.”

  He turned and scooped out eggs onto both plates, then bacon. When the toast popped up, he laid that on their plates, then sat at the table with her. She devoured everything on her plate, realizing she was starving and hadn’t really been eating much the past few weeks.

  “You’ve lost weight,” he said, scooping up the last of his eggs with his fork.

  “I wasn’t hungry.”

  “Missed me, probably.”

  “Actually, I was miserable without you. I had trouble eating and sleeping.”

  His smile died. He laid his fork down and put his hand over hers. “I’m sorry. I should have called you.”

  Her heart ached at the tenderness in his voice. “I could have called you, too. I just . . . didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.”

  His brows knit together. “Why would you think that?”

  “At the hospital. You just leaned over and said good-bye, then left.”

  “They gave me one minute to see you, then the DOJ swept you away in an ambulance for transfer back here. I had no time with you.”

  “I’m sorry. I handled this all badly.” She pushed away the empty plate.

  “No, you didn’t. I did.” He took a long swallow of coffee, then set the cup aside. “I don’t know how to do this, Shadoe.”

  “How to do what?”

  “Love someone. I’ve never done it before.”

  Her heart swelled. “Me either. I haven’t really had shining examples of love everlasting, you know.”

  “Yeah. So what do we do now?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. You have a life with the Wild Riders.”

  “And yours is here.”

  “So where does that leave us? Meeting up occasionally to have sex?”

  His frown deepened. “That’s not what I want.”

  “That’s not what I want, either. But what other choice do we have?”

  He pushed back from the table and stood, moving into the living room to stare out her picturesque window. She followed, coming behind him to thread her arms around his middle. He laid his hands over hers.

  “I could live here,” he said.

  She stilled. “What?”

  He pulled her around so she faced him. “Here. In D.C.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He shrugged. “I talked to Grange. I can work for the Wild Riders out here.”

  The blood rushed so hard in her ears she could barely hear anything. “You’d do that. Just to be with me.”

  He pulled her against him, kissed her. “I’ve never told anyone I loved them, Shadoe. I don’t intend to say those words to another woman again, except you.”

  Oh, God. Her eyes welled with tears. “I love you, too, Spence. And I’ve never said those words to another man. I don’t want to ever say them to anyone but you. You make me feel more deeply than I’ve ever felt before. You make me think we can do anything as long as we’re together.”

  He smiled down at her. “Nothing’s impossible. Our only problem is logistics.”

  “What if I moved to Dallas?”

  “What? Why would you do that? Your job is here.”

  Now it was her turn to shrug. “My job can be anywhere. The DOJ has an office there. I liked Dallas.”

  “I don’t have roots anywhere. I’m more mobile. You grew up here.”

  She shook her head. “My father’s home is here. My home is wherever you are.”

  “He’s your family.”

  She snorted. “Not really. He never really wanted me anymore than my mother did.”

  “I want you.”

  Her heart swelled with love. “I know. We’ll be family for each other. That’s enough.”

  “Your father was wrong, you know.”

  “About what?”

  “You’re stronger than most of the men I’ve known.”

  She sucked in a breath. “That’s quite possibly the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

  “It’s the truth. You have strength, Shadoe. You’re a survivor.”

  “Like you.”

  He smiled. “Yeah. Like me.”

  It’s what drew her to him in the first place. It’s what would keep them together. Where they made it work didn’t matter. Although, she had a thought. “You know what . . .”

  He cocked his head to the side. “What?”

  “What about New Orleans?”

  “What about it?”

  “Your brother is there. He’s family, too.”

  He eyed her warily. “Shadoe, I haven’t contacted him in
years.”

  She wasn’t going to let it go. Family was too important. At least the kind of family that counted. She knew that somewhere, Trevor was out there. And she’d bet he’d like to know about Spence. “Trevor is your brother. He’s family. You and I need all the family we can get. Besides, I liked New Orleans. And the DOJ needs good agents down there.”

  “You would really do that. You’d relocate.”

  She swept her hand along his cheek, loving the feel of his beard stubble. “Of course I would. You’re willing to do the same.”

  “Grange said I can do my job from anywhere. I just have to go into Dallas occasionally for assignments.”

  “Okay. I can relocate, too. And I think it’s time we find your brother.”

  He leaned in, touched his forehead to hers. “I don’t know what to do with you. I don’t know what to do with all these feelings.”

  “Just love me.”

  He lifted his head, his eyes so clear, so blue, she lost herself in them. “I do.”

  The rest, they’d figure out later. They had the start—they had love for each other.

  The rest of it was just details. It didn’t matter whether they set down roots in Dallas, D.C., New Orleans, or somewhere else entirely.

  As long as they were together, they’d be home.