Author: Jaci Burton

“So where were you off to all day?” AJ asked in between large mouthfuls.

“I worked with Maria again today.” She tried to keep the conversation short. Really, all she wanted to do was eat, then maybe pass out for a quick nap.

“How did that go?” Grange asked.

She took a couple quick gulps of water before answering. “Really well. She’s been wonderful to work with, and showed me a few things to help with my act so I’ll look more experienced.”

“Yeah, because drunk guys can totally tell the difference between a pro and a novice,” Spence mumbled.

Grange shot him a look, but Spence was busy cutting his steak and didn’t notice. Instead, Grange asked, “You think you’ll be comfortable enough once you hit the Wild Rose in New Orleans?”

She nodded. “I’ll be just fine.”

Spence waved his fork at her. “The customers there expect only the best, you know.”

She wasn’t going to rise to the bait, nor tell him he’d just contradicted his previous statement. Clearly he was looking for an argument and she wasn’t going to play. Instead, she smiled. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

“It’s a pretty high-class club.”

What was he getting at? “Maria has played there before. She’s prepared me for what to expect.”

Spence shrugged. “Then maybe Maria should have been the one doing this job.”

Grange tossed his napkin on the table. “Goddammit, Spence. What crawled up your ass?”

Spencer leveled a stare at General Lee. “Nothing. Just stating the facts.”

“Bullshit. You have some gripe about Agent Grayson, let’s bring it out in the open now.”

“No gripe at all, General.”

“He’s cranky as hell, Grange,” Diaz said, shooting Spence a glare.

“We think he needs to get laid in the worst way,” AJ added.

Grange stared Spence down for a few seconds. “Then why don’t you? Because your attitude sucks. You owe Agent Grayson an apology.”

Oh, shit. The last thing she wanted was to cause dissension among the Wild Riders. “General Lee, really, there’s no problem here.”

“The hell there isn’t. He’s been on your ass since you got here and for no damn good reason. So if you have an itch you need to scratch before the assignment begins, Spence, then for the love of God go scratch it and get it over with. I need you and Shadoe working as a team, not at each other’s throats once you go undercover.”

Spence pushed his chair back and stood, wiped his mouth, and grabbed his plate. “Maybe I’ll do that.” He turned and went into the kitchen. Shadoe heard water running and the clanging of dishes, then Spencer returned to the living room and punched the elevator button. It opened, he walked in, and he pushed the button to close the door. In all that time he never looked at her—at any of them.

“Well, that was unpleasant,” Jessie said. “Something must be bothering him.”

“Something. Or someone,” Diaz said.

Shadoe snapped her gaze to Diaz, who had been looking at her. “Me? What did I do?”

Diaz’s lips curled in a very sexy smile. No wonder Jessie was so crazy about him. The man could make any woman’s toes curl. “You didn’t do a damn thing, honey. You didn’t have to.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Then they all smiled in some weird, secretive way. And she was completely lost. Maybe it was a Wild Riders inside joke or something she wasn’t privy to. Fortunately, with Spence’s exit the conversation around the dinner table resumed to normal, she ate in peace, and helped clean up afterward. Then she watched television and played pool with everyone for a while until she grew too tired. She went upstairs and relaxed for a few hours, read, and took a shower, then thought about going to bed, but when she lay down she found herself staring at the ceiling.

It was one in the morning and Spence hadn’t come back yet. Maybe he’d taken everyone’s advice and had gone out, found a woman, and was at this moment fucking her.

Good for him. He probably needed it, the cranky bastard. Some men got tense if they didn’t have sex, couldn’t go without for long. Maybe Spence was one of those kinds of guys. She could imagine he probably was, one of those overly sexual types who had to have it every other day or something.

Hmph. It just figured she’d get stuck with a partner on testosterone overload. Great. Would she have to endure this throughout the entire assignment? It was worse than dealing with a woman in the throes of PMS. She couldn’t care less if he screwed some random woman. They had no relationship other than a working one. In fact, she realized she didn’t even like Spence. He was her partner on this assignment. That was it. She didn’t have to like him to work with him. But maybe he could lighten up a bit after he got laid. Hopefully he’d have a lot of sex, too. Judging from his attitude, he needed it.

She shifted onto her side and stared at the dark wall, trying to shut out visuals of Spence naked, thrusting between the legs of some faceless woman. She tried to think of the academy, of the gun range, of terrorist training, the horrible hours she’d spent crawling through mud holes, anything to take her mind off Spence.

Nothing worked. All she could see was his body, his broad shoulders, his penetrating blue eyes, the sharp angles of his cheekbones, and the wicked way he smiled. All of that loomed over her and suddenly she was the woman underneath him while he thrust with deep determination, feeling his chest brush against her nipples with every upward sweep of his body. She could feel his cock inside her, and her pussy dampened with desire, her clit twitching with urgent need. Her skin felt on fire, prickling all over with sensation.

Spence wasn’t the only one who needed to get laid. It had been a long—very long—dry spell for her. And now she was sweaty and moist and her pussy was wet and clenched with the need for orgasm. She reached between her legs to stroke herself, conjuring up images of a brown-haired devil with piercing blue eyes and a sexy smile.

She snatched her hand away and bolted upright in bed.

No. Oh, hell no. She wasn’t going there again, wasn’t going to stoke the fires of her fantasies and insert Spence in the starring role. That would only make things worse.

She rolled out of bed, turned on the light, and pulled on her capris and a breast-hugging workout top, then laced up her tennis shoes. If she was too pent up to sleep, then she’d go for a run. Outside, where she could work up a good, draining, breath-stealing sweat. The compound was secure, so she’d be fine outside. Grange had already told her she was free to roam outside any time of the day or night, as long as she stayed within the compound of the fenced acreage. And she’d already found the path that wound around and through the property.

No one was up and about when she went downstairs. They must have all either gone to bed or gone out. Good. The fewer questions she had to answer, the better. She grabbed a bottle of water and went outside, stretched a bit, then took off at a light pace, concentrating only on moving one foot in front of the other, digging her feet in and making distance count. The path was well lit so she was comfortable running alone. It wasn’t like anyone was going to attempt to hop the high-tech security fencing around the property. Grange had state-of-the-art surveillance equipment to monitor the comings and goings of anyone nearing the compound. She was snug and secure there. She enjoyed the small amount of wind blowing through her hair, and swung her arms back and forth as she picked up speed.

She got lost in the run, her head clearing, her mind on nothing but forcing breath into her lungs. She’d worked up a good sweat and hoped by the time she made the run around the compound she’d be exhausted enough to sleep. Without thoughts, without fantasies, without thinking about Spence. She’d managed to empty her mind of everything, so when she spotted a light behind her, she had to tune in to the sound—the revving of a motorcycle engine. Refusing to stop, she kept on running at her designated pace until the bike came up beside her.

Spence. He rode alongside her for a bit until she took the run down slow and easy, then finally stopped, breathing heavy. She uncapped the water bottle and took several long swallows, then turned to face him. He parked the bike and climbed off.

They were on the back side of the property along a row of thick trees and bushes.

“I saw you out here when I came through the gates.”

Master of the obvious, wasn’t he? “Uh-huh.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Uh, running?”

“It’s almost two in the morning, Shadoe.”

“Yeah.” She took another gulp of water and blew out a slow breath, feeling her heart rate start to get back to normal. She was hot and sweaty, but at least there was a breeze to help cool her off.

Spence leaned against the bike and folded his arms. “So?”

“So what?”

“What are you doing out here?”

“Working off some tension. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Same as me, then.”

She snorted. “Sort of. Only I didn’t work it out with sex.”

His lips lifted in a smile that made her weak in the knees. “Sex is better than running.”

Did he have to remind her of where he’d been and what he’d been doing? “Yeah, you’re right. It is. Maybe I should have grabbed one of the guys in the house and fucked him tonight. Would have saved me a middle-of-the-night run.”

His smile died, replaced instead by a savage frown. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t mess with the Wild Riders. They’re not nice guys.”

He had a lot of nerve dictating to her. “I’m not looking for a nice guy.”

He pushed off the bike and came toward her, bearing down on her in a slow, direct, and oh-so-imposing way like a man on a mission. Did he expect her to back up? He wasn’t the worst that had been thrown at her, and she wasn’t going to move. When he stopped, he towered over her, and she took in a deep breath—inhaling leather, and a musky scent that signaled pure male. Her female senses went haywire and her nipples hardened. She wanted to grab hold of his leather jacket and latch on to his mouth like she was starving for a taste of him.

Maybe she was.

“That’s perfect, then,” he said in answer to her earlier statement. “Because I’m not a nice guy.”

She knew exactly what he was going to do and she had only an instant to stop him.

She didn’t want to. So when he jerked her against him and planted his lips on hers, she melted against him. This was no easy kiss. His mouth was hot and hungry, his hands holding tight against her back and her hip, his fingers flexing and demanding.

Her entire body exploded in passion and hunger. She was enveloped with a wanton need she’d never experienced with such ferocity. She lifted her leg and wrapped it around him, centering her sex against his hard, throbbing cock. It made her ache, made her wet, made her want to tear off his leathers and drop down to her knees to engulf him in her mouth.

She wanted it all in this instant. He had too many clothes on, the barrier of his jacket, his jeans, his chaps, all serving to frustrate her because she couldn’t get to his skin. But oh, his mouth, now that she had full access to, and he was a master at kissing a woman until her toes curled, until she was mindless and melting and wet and quivering. She even whimpered when he sucked her tongue. Her nipples tightened and she clutched the lapels of his jacket, dragging herself closer to him.

She couldn’t breathe. Her heart pounded; her legs felt like they weren’t going to hold her up any longer.

But then Spence grasped her wrists and gently pushed her away, breaking that sweet contact of his mouth against hers.

Momentarily dazed, all she could do was stare at him while her mind stayed in the sensual fog he’d weaved around her.