Page 22 of The Rough Ride

He slid inside, inch by glorious inch. She was like home, warm and comfortable, and his. He inhaled her every breath with kisses, felt her quiver as she tumbled over the edge, and then shouted with his own release.

“I’ve been so lost without you.” She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and ran her fingers through his hair. “I love you.”

“You’re my everything, sweetie. Stay with me tonight.”

“I can’t, but come for dinner on Friday night. There’s so much I want to talk about.”

The exhilaration of their lovemaking faded with her refusal to spend the night.Love had never been their problem. Permanence was.

He set his head on top of hers and let the hurt wash over him.Why won’t you stay, Liz? What is more important than us?He swallowed the angst and focused on her invitation. “Did you learn how to cook?” He kissed her nose. It tasted of dried tears.

She chuckled. “Very funny, but I’ve become pretty good with a crockpot.”

Hell, to do this again, just skip the food.“Yes, to dinner at your place on Friday. Whatever you make or order will be delicious.” He slid his hardening cock into her tight channel and punctuated his point with a couple thrusts.

Her lips parted, and she wrapped her legs around him again. “Ooh, you feel good, so deep, and so damn good.” She took his mouth in a wanton kiss. “You’re everything I wanted tonight, Sergeant. Let’s do it slow this time.”

A half hour later, as he tucked her in her car to leave forhome, she took his face in her hands. “You’re the love of my life. Don’t ever forget that. Okay?”

He kissed her cheek and nibbled her bottom lip. “I love you, too. Drive safe. I’ll see you Friday.”

As she drove away, his brows furrowed. She’d said she loved him. Then why did her words leave him with a sense of dread?

Like they stood on the edge of something unknown that might rip them apart.

15

Illusia dropped her binoculars and ducked before Liz’s car rolled past her.

Wow.Judging by the show she’d seen, Nick and Liz were joined at the hip. Literally. She needed a shower. Peeping made her skin crawl and itch. She wasn’t a pervert.

He really should invest in some drapes.

Nick had done quite well for himself judging from the gaze she’d had into that loft. Maybe she should’ve held onto him a little longer than one night, kept his phone number in her private contacts?

Nah.He’d only distract her from her primary goal with those piercing blue eyes and solid biceps. She’d sacrifice another round with him to reach her objective.

She never thought following Liz after work would lead tothis. She’d wanted to light up Liz’s night another way, get it done once and for all, but information was valuable. It gave her strategy more options.

She wouldn’t move too fast. Her brother always had big ideas and moved quickly. That’s how the feds nailed him forhacking into the social security website. Jazz’d been so excited he succeeded that he forgot to remove a smidgeon of metadata on his way out.

A big mistake. No plea deal.

The big house or the military?Don’t believe them when they say it isn’t an option anymore.

Hacking for the military was an option he couldn’t refuse.

It had cost him everything.

Illusia wiped the tears from her cheek and tossed the wrapper from the burger she’d eaten for dinner on the floor of the sedan. She was a better hacker than Jazz andvisitedgovernment sites all the time. Maybe when this was all over, she’d work forAnonymousor some other unseen organization. She had serious skills to offer.

And patience—lots of patience.

16

Liz’s hand trembled as she tasted the crockpot stroganoff and turned the knob to warm. The wide noodles and roast vegetable medley sat on a countertop warming tray alongside the garlic bread wrapped in aluminum foil, with a note to remind her to bake for ten minutes. She’d pop them into the oven while she and Nick talked and enjoyed their wine. If only her nerves would settle down. She’d been popping antacids all afternoon.

Ella entertained herself with the pull toys on her sit-and-spin. More verbal every day, she cooed and babbled in her own baby language with an occasional tug at the bow on her one curl of blonde hair.

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