weren’t reliable. She reined in her annoyance. Sherri was a good friend. She meant well. She’d helped Jordan a lot when she’d first started working here six years ago, teaching her how to earn bigger tips by smiling and flirting, and helping her evade the advances of the worst drunks.
“I know you’re thinking of my best interests, Sherri, but all I need is to ace my finals next week. And getting involved with some flyboy from Nellis will not help me memorize differential equations.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I always did better on a test if I had a good screw the night before. Helped me relax.”
“Sherri!” Jordan managed not to roll her eyes.
“All I’m sayin’ is, that was one fine piece of man-meat staring at you tonight like you rocked his world. Just think about it if you see him again.”
Think about it? Hadn’t she just been convincing herself not to think about him?
After she changed clothes she left through the hotel’s employees’ entrance, heading for the bus stop past the parking garage behind the hotel. Even at two in the morning, Vegas vibrated with noisy traffic and tourists. But she’d long grown tired of the bright flashing lights she’d once found so exciting.
She glanced down the street toward the bus stop and spotted the bus already there. Jordan dodged a few cabs and a limo as she sprinted across the street. “Wait!” She waved her arm just as the bus pulled away in a wheezing cloud of exhaust.
“Crap!” It’d be twenty minutes before the next bus came by. She stuck her fists inside her denim jacket pockets and shifted her weight from sneaker to sneaker. Her body screamed for a hot bath and a soft bed, so she closed her eyes and envisioned the day she earned her programming degree. Once she did, her life would change.
She’d get a respectable job with a decent salary. Buy a home of her own with two bedrooms so she wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch. Have professional care for her mom. All she had to do was stay smart, stay focused.
Not let some Casanova derail her plans. Again.
But every once in a while her heart just wanted to let loose all the wild feelings inside. Toss the laundry basket and run screaming into the night.
“Hey.” A strong hand gripped her arm and Jordan jumped. “Got a dollar?”
She let out a relieved breath as she recognized one of the bums that slept in the alley behind the hotel. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. But booze wasn’t the worst odor. Poor old guy. But for the grace of God…
A motorcycle engine revved and tires screeched. “Let go of the lady,” a deep voice ordered from behind her.
The old man yanked his hand away and backed off.
Jordan spun around.
The Air Force major. He sat astride a monstrous black motorcycle, his gaze focused menacingly on the old man. His tight, low-riding jeans and black leather jacket personified danger as he curled his fists around the handlebars.
Her body sizzled as she stared at him. The image burned into her psyche, drawing her into the fantasy of the rugged loner coming to her rescue, sweeping her into his arms and—
“I’m fine, Major,” she blurted out to stop her crazy dream. She unzipped her backpack and dug around for one of the prepaid cards she’d bought. One of the diners close to her apartment had a program for the homeless. A way to ensure a handout didn’t go to buy booze. “This will get you a hot meal and coffee at Zelda’s Café on fifty-fourth.” She handed the old man the card, and he snatched it from her and took off.
From the corner of her eye she saw the major get off the bike and move toward her.
“You shouldn’t encourage those people.”
She turned. “He’s harmless.”
He rubbed his jaw and took a step toward her.
Her chest tightened as he came closer. Her insides coiled with a tension she’d been trying to deny since his comment about blond geniuses. She knew it was just a pickup line, and she’d heard better. But he’d said it as if he really believed it.
“That happen often?”
She shook her head. “No. At least, not in a while.”
His dark eyes searched her body, his gaze moving down from her breasts to her legs and up again.
Her stomach clenched with a sharp ache. It’d been too long since she’d had sex, that’s all. Why had she waited? Oh, yeah. The whole trying-not-to-make-the-same-mistake-twice thing. She’d told Bob she wanted to wait until they were really committed, and he’d agreed. Too easily, she could see now. And it’d been easy for her, too. Easy and safe.
She’d never felt the kind of ache for Banker Bob that she did tonight for the Air Force major.
“He’ll probably trade the card for booze or dope,” he said.
Straightening her shoulders, she bristled. “Well, I have to try.” His subtle musky cologne drifted to her on the breeze and she drew in a long, slow breath.
He looked down the street, then back at her. “I could give you a ride.”
She studied his black bike. Almost a quarter of a century old and she’d never ridden on a motorcycle. An image invaded her mind of riding behind him, her cheek pressed against his back and her palms clutching his hard abs. The vise in her chest squeezed with a dangerous desire.
“Hey, I understand.” The major headed for his bike and swung his leg over the seat. He looked at her as he rolled the bike forward and the kickstand lifted. “You don’t know me.” His jaw muscle clenched as he turned the key and started the engine. The bike roared to life and he set his boot on the steel footrest and looked up at her. “Yet.” Without another word he curled his fists and took off out of the parking lot.
A panicky sense of lost opportunity swept over her. Something inside her wanted to run after him and yell at him to come back, that she’d changed her mind. It was her gnawing inner voice begging for a night of reckless abandon. How could she feel so out of control? How could she even consider it?
Then the bike made a U-turn down the street and roared back into the nightclub parking lot behind her. The engine shut off, and he shoved the kickstand down and strode toward her. She watched the sway of his hips, the tight fit of his T-shirt beneath the jacket, the set of his jaw.
“Decided I’d wait with you until the bus comes.”
Jordan tried to swallow past the hard lump in her throat. Even security-conscious Banker Bob had never been willing to lose sleep to make sure she got home okay. “Thank you.”
He nodded, but didn’t speak, just stood next to her with his arms crossed over his chest.
His leather-mixed-with-man scent tantalized her. The coil in her tightened more, her muscles tensed and she couldn’t even look at him.
You’re an idiot, Jordan Brenner. So, he was sexy. So were a thousand other players trolling the casino looking to get laid. He just had a different approach. She should remember this guy was a friend of Captain
