Riding on Instinct

She wanted to shake him off, but she craved the comfort. She hadn’t dredged up the ugliness of her past in a long time, had tried to bury it under ambition and school and determination to be the best at whatever she did. She rarely indulged in the pain, and when she did, she was always surprised to find it still as raw as ever. She had hoped time would heal.

It never did.

She leaned into him, unashamed at needing this—at needing him—even if it was only temporary.

“What did your dad say?” he asked.

“He told her to pack up her bags and get out. He’d give her a settlement, but that was all she’d get. She didn’t need the money, anyway. Her family had all the money she needed. All she wanted was her freedom. She didn’t need anything. Not my dad. Not the life she’d built with him.”

It was still hard to say the words. “Not me.”

Shit. The tears came despite her refusal to ever shed a tear over the bitch who’d given birth to her, the woman who may have given her life but who had never really wanted her.

Spence folded her into his arms and caressed her hair, whispering against her ear. “It’s okay, babe. Let it go.”

She clutched his shirt, buried her face against his chest, and sobbed. She cried for what seemed like forever, pouring out the pain she’d held in her heart since she was twelve years old, wondering why the mother she loved had never loved her back.

She didn’t have answers then; she didn’t now. She never would.

“Sometimes there are no answers,” Spence said, seemingly in answer to her unspoken thoughts. “Sometimes people are just really fucked-up, self-absorbed assholes, and their kids pay the price for it.”

Shuddering, she sniffed and raised her head, knowing she must look a mess. “Some people shouldn’t be allowed to breed.”

He smiled. “Amen to that, darlin’.” He swiped his thumb under her eyes. “I hate that they hurt you.”

“I hate that they hurt you, too.”

He shrugged. “I’m a big tough guy. I can take it.”

“I’m a big tough girl. So can I. But at one time we were both just kids. And the people who were supposed to love us didn’t take care of us like they should.” She pushed back from him a bit so she could gather her balance, emotionally. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Spence. You might have this image of me as the princess in the ivory tower. And granted, I had a roof over my head and a hot meal for dinner every night. I had clothes to wear and a good education, so there’s no comparison as far as what you had to endure versus where I came from.”

He started to say something, but she stopped him. “Let me finish first, please. What I think makes us alike is the hurt. The raw pain of not being loved when we needed it. Of feeling that maybe we failed somehow, that we didn’t deserve it.”

She stood and began to pace, needing to get her thoughts in order before she messed this up. “When you opened up to me and told me your story about your childhood, it really hurt me. And the reason it hurt me was because I knew how it felt. No, I didn’t know how it felt to go hungry, or to have to resort to running the streets and stealing in order to survive, but I know how it feels to be thought of as less than worthy of love. You may think a lot of things about me, Spence, but you can’t take that away from me. I wasn’t loved.”

He studied her for a few seconds, then stood and went over to her, laying his hands on her shoulders. “It’s nothing to wear like a badge of honor, Shadoe.”

“We survived it, didn’t we? Look where we are in our lives. Look at the careers we have.”

“True enough. We’re both survivors. We could have each ended up just like those who made us.”

“But we haven’t, have we?”

“No, darlin’. We haven’t.”

“We’re alike in a lot of ways. And I hate when you push me away and try to go all solitary-man-on-the-mountain on me.”

He cocked a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You think you’re the only one who’s ever felt the way you feel. Well, you’re not. I hurt, too. I feel lonely, too.”

“So what are you trying to say, Shadoe?”

She wrapped her arms around herself, knowing she was losing sight of the big picture, that her emotions were getting the best of her again. “I don’t know, exactly. Only that I’m tired of feeling lonely. That I think with you I’ve found someone who could really understand where I’ve been and what I feel, and you want to be all tough guy and pretend not to give a shit. And that pisses me off.

“The problem is, you do give a shit. I know you do.”

He reached for her face, cupped her cheek. “I can’t give you what you need. I’m not that kind of guy.”

She shuddered out a sigh. “That’s a knee-jerk reaction. I’m not asking for forever, Spence. You and I have futures elsewhere when this case is over. We both know that. But while we’re together, couldn’t we really be . . . together? Wouldn’t it be nice to just have a moment in time where we could both be a little less lonely?”

His eyes were so filled with pain, the pain she felt, too.

Come on, Spence. Just this one time, give in.

“Don’t think about it, don’t analyze it, and don’t put a future stamp on it, because there isn’t one. It’s just right now, for these couple weeks or however long we have. We’re kindred. We understand each other. Let’s share each other while we have that time together.”

He looked at her, and for the first time, she saw understanding in his eyes.

Then he nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. Let’s do that.” He pulled her into his arms and laid his mouth on hers, brushing his lips across hers in a kiss so tender the tears sprang fresh in her eyes.

This was the moment she wanted. It was all she wanted.

The loneliness evaporated in an instant, just as it always did when Spence held her in his arms.

THIRTEEN

IT HAD BEEN A LOT OF YEARS SINCE SPENCE HAD ALLOWED himself to feel anything emotional. It was always safer to stay closed off. No one could hurt you that way. He’d learned that valuable lesson a long time ago.

But hearing Shadoe’s story about her parents—her lunatic bitch of a mother who thought partying and society and her image were more important than raising her own child, and her regimented, idiotic father who thought the gender of one’s child actually mattered—it’s a wonder Shadoe had ended up as well-adjusted as she seemed to be. She was educated, vibrant, exciting, and any man would be damn lucky to have her in his life.

She could have been really messed up by her childhood. Instead, she’d turned it around and decided to make herself worthwhile, not dependent upon needing a parent’s love or approval—though he figured she indirectly sought her father’s approval by the line of work she’d chosen. But he wasn’t going to get into that with her now.

Not when he held her and her body felt good against his, not when he stood in this place that reminded him of hell, and she felt and smelled like heaven. Not when everything sweet about her could help erase everything horrible about his past.

He inhaled her scent, obliterating the smell of dirt and destruction around him. No one was within miles of this place—no one came here anymore. They were completely alone.

He let his hand drift down her back and deepened the kiss. His intent in dragging her into his arms hadn’t been sexual—not initially anyway. He’d only wanted to comfort her. But as usual, getting within close proximity of Shadoe, breathing her in, made him want to be inside her.

She moaned against his lips, her hands roamed over his shoulders and down his arms, reaching for his fingers. Her grip was strong, her intention clear.

She wanted this as much as he did, this joining they both often seemed so desperate for.

He pulled away. “You sure? Here?”

She nodded. “Yes. Now.”

She was right—they were alike in a lot of ways, especially the need for sex without caring where they were or who might see them. He really liked that about her.

“Hang on.”

He had a blanket in the bag on his bike. He grabbed it and spread it out on the small patch of grass in the shade, then lay down on it. “Come here.”

She came down on top of him and he brushed her hair away from her face, brought her mouth to his, and tasted her, slid his tongue inside to capture and tangle with hers. He hooked his leg over hers, drew her body closer, as close to his as they could get fully clothed.

He wasn’t going to be able to fully undress her out here, even though he doubted anyone else was around. But he could feel her, touch her, make love to her out here in this place where he could replace dismal memories with one that would always make him smile.

Shadoe lifted her head and graced him with the curling of her lips—that smile that always managed to calm the storm inside him. She was right. He was going to have to stop fighting their relationship and do as she suggested—just enjoy it while they had it, because they both knew it wasn’t going to last.

He didn’t want to hurt her. Enough people had done that to her already. But as long as she went into this relationship with her eyes wide-open, then it would be okay.

He smoothed his hands down the sides of her body, lingering over each of her curves. She laid her forehead on his shoulder and slid upward, gripped his shoulders and raised up to sit on him. That put her pussy right in contact with his hard, pulsing dick.

She shook her hair behind her back and smiled down at him, digging her nails into his chest. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and cast him a smoldering, sexy look that told him his kitten was in the mood for some rough play.

He gripped her hips, squeezed. She rocked against him.

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

“Get up.”

He did, moving off the blanket. Shadoe stood, too, turned around to face him, reaching for the zipper of her jeans. She drew the zipper down, then tugged the jeans over her hips, doing a slow turnaround so her back faced him as she drew the jeans over her perfectly rounded ass.

Then she dropped to her knees and bent forward on her hands, throwing him a look and a grin over her shoulder.

Oh, yeah. Oh, hell yeah. He got down on his knees behind her.

“I like the way you think, darlin’,” he said, grasping the globes of her ass to rub his hands over them.

“I thought you might. Now hurry up and fuck me.”

He jerked his zipper down and put a condom on, positioned himself against her, then slid inside her with an easy thrust. He closed his eyes for a second, felt her body grip his cock as she pulsed around him, welcomed him. He sucked in a breath at the sweet pleasure of being inside her.

He leaned forward, reached around to cup her sex, felt how wet she was.

“You like doing it outside?”

“I like you fucking me. I don’t care where it is.”

He pulled back, powered in deep, felt her walls grip him in a tight glove. “I’ll keep that in mind. I might just decide to fuck you whenever and wherever.”

“Whenever,” she said, hissing when he thrust hard again. “Wherever.”

He moved his hand over her hip, down the fullness of her ass cheek, and gave it a short, hard swat. She tensed, then tilted her head back and moaned, her pussy contracting around his cock.

“Damn, Spence.”

“Like that?”

“Yes.”

He knew she would. Somehow, he’d known she’d crave a bit of the unusual. He loved that about her. He smoothed the red spot he’d created, then moved his hand to a different spot and gave her ass another hard swat, the sound echoing off the empty woods. So did her loud cry. She bucked back against him, taking in more of his shaft. Wetness spilled against his thighs.