Bucking Bronc Lodge 04(65)

Her counseling instincts warned her not to give Miles false hope, but she refused to listen to them. If he gave up and Timmy was out there, Timmy needed them to keep looking.

Miles sat in a stony silence as she drove, the silence deafening as the tires churned over desolate stretches of pocked road. Finally a sweep of buildings cropped into view, the lights of another small town dotting the distance.

Jordan headed into town, found the motel and tried to ignore the rugged, dirty accommodations as she and Miles checked in.

The man behind the desk gave her a lecherous smile when he realized they had no luggage, but she ignored him and asked for one room anyway. Let him think what he would. She didn’t give a damn.

All she cared about now was finding Timmy and comforting Miles.

He rallied enough to look around warily as they made their way to the room, his hand close to his gun at all times. Jordan opened the door and winced at the bare furnishings, then shrugged it off.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I can go down and pick us up some food.”

“I can’t eat anything.” Miles clenched her hand. “And you aren’t going anywhere in this town alone, Jordan. It’s not safe.”

She gathered that, but she wanted to help.

His body shuddered against her, and she slid a hand up to cup his cheek. “Go shower. We’ll rest and start over in the morning. Maybe we’ll hear something more by then, get another lead.”

Or meet the search team to look for Timmy.

Miles’s despondent look indicated that he was thinking the same thing.

“Come on, a shower will do us both good.” She took his hand and coaxed him into the tiny bathroom. Under other circumstances, she wouldn’t have dared step foot in the shower stall of a roach motel, but tonight the conditions didn’t matter.

Miles stood ramrod straight, his body rigid as she reached for his shirt and began to unbutton it. “Jordan—”

“Shh, let me.”

His dark gaze latched with hers, emotions brimming to the surface. Pain. Need. Fear.

Hunger.

She couldn’t do any more about finding Timmy tonight but she could do this. She raised herself on tiptoe and dragged her mouth to his.

* * *

MILES SHUT ALL THE DARK thoughts from his mind. He had to. It was the only way he could keep from throwing himself against a wall.

Or eating his gun.

And neither would help him find his son.

Jordan’s words taunted him—Timmy might still be alive. Dugan could be playing them.

The bastard was just cruel enough to pull that kind of sick stunt.

Jordan’s other theory nagged at him, too. Dugan might be planning to create his own little family with Timmy....

Over his dead body.

Jordan closed her lips over his, and a surge of white-hot need raged through him. Adrenaline mingled with raw desire, and he tunneled his hands in her hair, ripped out the ponytail holder and spread the luscious strands over her shoulders just as he’d wanted to do since he’d first met her.

He’d tried to deny it but he’d craved her for days now.

Finally she was in his arms. He ached to have her below him, whispering his name while he pounded himself inside her.

Driven by his hunger, he stripped off her shirt while she tore off his. Their jeans came next, the sound of her zipper sliding down an erotic tease that threatened to make him explode.

Somewhere in the distance, a voice murmured that this was wrong. That he should slow down. Show her some tenderness.

But Jordan’s breathy sighs and moans weren’t sounds of protest. In fact, she raked her nails over his bare chest as if she wanted him just as he wanted her.

That need fueled his desire even more, and he walked her backward and pressed her against the wall. Boots and socks flew off.

Her underwear came next. Fast and heady, he stripped her, drinking in the sight of her rosy nipples begging for his attention. His sex hardened as she ground herself into him and rubbed his thigh with her bare foot.

He cupped her butt in his hands, caressing her naked flesh and wishing he had the willpower to take it slow and easy, to pleasure her the way she deserved, but a raw ache throbbed through him.

He had to have her now.

She nipped at his neck, and he lowered his head and drew one nipple into his mouth, sucking it until she buckled and cried his name, begging him for more.

He slipped one hand between her legs, parting her thighs for his invasion. Her damp center sent a surge of blood through his groin, and his sex jutted out, thick and needy.

She shoved down his boxers, then wrapped one soft hand around his hard length and pulled him toward her.

He groaned, then lifted her with his hands until she wound her legs around him and he thrust into her.

One squeeze of her legs around him and he felt as if he might come. But he forced his body to still until he regained control.