How he’d held on to those through the grueling training and dangerous missions. The men he’d served with and under had fostered a respect he’d never felt for anyone in his family. Now he’d lostthat pride and sense of purpose. Maybe after a month of riding with Rath, he’d find it again. But he wouldn’t find it here with his crazy family. Or this broken woman.
“You can save me, JuJu,” she said, leaning close and kissing him. “We can go back to being the way we were before I messed up.”
He wasn’t the same boy he was thirteen years ago. In fact, he didn’t know who he was anymore, didn’t know where he fit in the world. Though they’d never talked about it, he knew his SEAL brothers felt the same. Being wrenched from their place, their mission, and, in effect, their family had thrown them all off balance. He still looked for danger every time he went into a busy place. Still searched faces for the furtive gleam of a suicide bomber. He wasn’t sure that would ever leave him. What he needed was to get on the road with Rath and find out who the hell he was now.
He kissed Susana back, because she was going to play a part in that objective. She didn’t know it, but she was on his side now. He ran his free hand along her back, down over her soft, round ass. She moaned softly, whispering his name. It didn’t move him the way it once did. He used to spring a hard-on from that whisper alone.
“Do you have a condom on you?” he asked between her fervent kisses.
“No, but we don’t need one. I want to feel you, just you.”
Yeah, probably hoping she’d get pregnant. “I’m not ready for fatherhood yet. Go get one from my brother.”
She leaned back, her tears completely gone. “Don’t you have one?”
“I didn’t come home to get laid. Go, get one. And hurry. Tell him to get the key to the cuff, too. I can’t love you properly if I’ve got one hand tied up.” Omar wouldn’t give it to her, but her request would buy a little more time. “You’ll have to use that magic of yours to persuade him. You’re very persuasive, baby. I know you can do it. And I’ll reward you.”
“I’ll be right back.” She dashed out.
Julian used his teeth to extract a pin from his watch; he used his mouth to maneuver it into the cuff’s lock mechanism. Three tries and the cuff sprang open. He launched off the bed and locked the door, grabbed his bag, and ran to the balcony. A drop from the second floor was nothing. After surveying the area, he sent his bag down first to land in one of the planting beds. A bunch of flowers made the sacrifice for his freedom.He followed, landing in a crouch with hardly a sound. The bag hadn’t been so quiet, but Julian didn’t take a second to see if anyone had heard. He hoisted the bag and crept close to the foliage.
Damn, it felt good to be back in stealth mode, his pulse pounding at his throat. Somebody laughed in the near distance, and he went the other way toward the garage where his new bike waited. From the moment he’d arrived in Orlando, he’d been secretly shopping for a used Fatboy. He hardly had time to admire the beauty he’d picked up the day before. He’d purposely waited until yesterday before getting it. As proud as he was of the machine, he’d slipped out and, as quietly as possible, tucked it to the side of the multi-car garage that was so filled with vehicles that no one would notice the covered bike. Which meant no one would mess with it. And seeing how desperate his family was to keep him there, he knew he’d made a good decision.
Once the cover and his bag were stowed, he backed out, started it, and hightailed it on toward Nashville, where he and Rath were going to meet. He’d owned a non-Harley motorcycle in high school. Rath had spent many an hour regaling him with the attributes of Harleys and all his opinions on why they were the best. Julian had been convinced, and the two had spent one of their furloughs awhile back looking for a good
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