He frowned. Her silence appeared to bother him.
“Okay.” They needed a reckoning on his public attitude, and they would talk about her terms. She slid next to him and pulled the belt across her lap to buckle.
For the next few miles, the thumping of the tires on the rough road and the whistling of a loose window were the only sounds.
Why had he wanted her next to him? Was it a type of mind game? Be demanding at every turn and see how she reacted?
Over the years she’d learned to not fight the small battles. Energy wasted, better used for the important ones. Such as protecting her brother.
Anyway, she enjoyed being near Jake. The man oozed sex appeal. So it hadn’t been a hardship, just the principle of it.
She jumped when he rested his hand over hers. Then he threaded their fingers together. She glanced over to his face. There were a couple of times in school she’d held a boy’s hand, but it had been years ago. Holding a man’s hand was a different experience. Rough with calluses, his large hand enclosed hers entirely. She felt the strength and appreciated how gentle he held hers.
A few more miles passed and then he moved their clasped hands to his thigh. Last night, she’d stretched her torso over those hard thighs, the taut muscles shifting and adjusting to her squirming as he spanked her.
She bit her bottom lip, hoping to drive her attention from where the back of her hand rested. This simple touching experience felt odd as if her body was outside herself. Unsure how to act, she stiffly sat beside him. Ironic, considering what they had done yesterday, and during their time together, she’d never second-guessed her actions.
Was this how other women felt with men? Was this something everyone took for granted? Time for her to quit analyzing it. She needed to enjoy the uncomplicated nuances to handholding.
Jake grinned. When he grabbed her hand, her eyes had flickered in surprise. Her look told him she suspected his actions. Instead of jerking away, though, she remained still, waiting to see what he planned to do next. He loved keeping her on her toes. He wanted to unzip those sexy leather pants and touch her tender moist heat. Chances were he could bring her to climax in thirty-seconds flat. Yesterday, she’d responded to his touch like a wildfire. Instant combustion. That excited him more than she could ever imagine.
“Why are we going the back way?” she asked.
He almost lied to her, but the narrowed glare he received said she expected it.
“I think we need to be careful. The fewer people who know we’re coming in, the safer it’ll be for us.”
“I need my backpack.”
“It’s in the bed of the truck.”
She twisted around and looked. “Did you take the gun out?”
“Yes.”
“I want my gun back.”
“Your gun?” Teasing her had become his favorite pastime.
“For goodness sakes! Not that again. Okay. Your other gun. You’re armed. It’s only right that I be, too.”
The woman was observant. He’d slipped both guns beneath the driver’s seat, hoping she hadn’t noticed. And damn it, he understood her need to be armed, but it was time for her to become accustomed to being protected.
“No.”
“Then give me my knife back.”
“No.” He had it in his pants’ pocket.
She moved her hand and before she could unbuckle the seatbelt, he slammed on the brakes and pulled the truck to the side of the road.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He clutched her arm.
“I’ve been armed for the last ten years of my life, and I demand you give me a weapon. Either the gun or my blade.” Her chest rose and fell as she waited for his reply.
Did she really believe giving him a choice made her ardent demand acceptable? Her miscalculation brought a grin to his face. From the worried look she gave him, she understood his smile wasn’t from humor, but more from his anticipation of what would happen next.
“Sit back,” he said, keeping his voice even. “Loosen your seatbelt and be quiet.” Time for her to understand a thing or two about him.
“Loosen?” Angel asked.
“Pull the belt to give yourself more room. It’ll be okay. We’re on the back roads, and I know every curve and hill. You’ll be safe.” His gruff voice stirred a heat in the pit of her stomach. Before she could ask what he wanted, though she suspected, he commanded, “Open your pants and push them to your knees.”
He shifted the truck into drive, and they headed down a two-lane road.
A part of her wanted to say, hell no, but another became excited at the thought of his touch, out in the open, traveling down a small country road. She wanted his large, rough hands on her, touching, probing, and drawing heat and desire for more.
She unsnapped and slid her pants down, leaving her plain white panties. A pair from the package she’d bought yesterday. Hard to believe only one day had passed. So much had changed.
He groaned.
She darted a look up. Painful hunger flickered across his face. He liked what he saw, but he didn’t make a move for a few seconds. She felt a little silly when his fingers moved over her thighs, up her stomach, and reached the elastic at her hip. She inhaled sharply at how wonderful his gentle touch was against her skin. His hand slipped beneath the thin cotton and one finger followed by another parted her moist folds.
“You’re moist for me,” his said so softly she almost didn’t hear him. She wanted to say he had nothing to do with it, but the effort to lie wouldn’t be worth it.
His middle finger dipped into her and came back to rotate over the hard nub begging for his attention. Her nails dug into the fabric at her knees. Without thought, her senses taking over, her legs opened until her pants stopped her. She released a shudder.
“Roll your hips against the tips of my fingers,” he whispered.
Without hesitation, she followed his orders, releasing a moan.
A car zoomed past. She stopped. Embarrassment flooded her face. She looked down at his hand beneath the material and the juncture of her legs. Every bit of what he was doing to her proved what she watched on the Internet didn’t fully prepare her for the true experience. This was real and way hotter with Jake caressing her.
“No,” he growled. “Don’t stop those little sexy sounds and movements. They can’t see us. We’re too high off the ground, and the windows are tinted.”
He was right. She could easily see inside cars and most SUVs from where she sat, but the passing automobiles sped by with the occupants in too much of a hurry to check out the cab of a truck.
Two fingers massaged her clitoris and the soft folds, bringing her nearly out of her seat. Her hips began to move again, thrusting for completion. When he stopped, she grabbed his wrist and forced his hand to continue. She arched her back as the small knot jerked with each wave.
His deep chuckle brought her back to what she’d done.
“Let me go, Angel.”
Her hand held his wrist so tight she doubted his blood could reach his fingers.
Opening her hand, she took in a deep breath.
He cupped her for a few seconds, and then with a small pat to her sensitive mons, he removed his hand. Lifting his butt off the seat, he reached into his pants and adjusted his hard cock to a more comfortable position. She almost came again.
Surely her makeup would melt from the heat on her face. Embarrassment didn’t stop her from staring at the bulge along his zipper while she straightened her clothes. She remembered the taste and texture of his length. Without caring about what he thought, she carefully reached over and smoothed her hand over it. Such wonder filled her. Just knowing he became hard from touching her excited her even more. A sense of heady power caused her to be bolder. She squeezed and stroked. The way he undulated his hips beneath her hand proved he wanted more of what she was doing.
She wanted him in her mouth again.
“You like touching me as much as I do you?”
Unable to v
oice her thoughts, she nodded.
Regaining control of her senses, a little, she answered, “Yes. Nothing better than feeling how hard you get, how you grow longer, the hot silky feel of your cock. The way it changes is like magic.” She bit her lip. She sounded stupid, but told the truth.
“Magic, huh?” He chuckled. “I bet you drove your grandfather crazy with all the boys following you around and sneaking into your bedroom in the middle of the night."
She moved her hand away. No surprise that he wanted to broach that subject. Most men claimed they cared little about their girlfriends’ prior love life, but start talking marriage and then their history becomes all important. Would he be pleased with a nearly virginal wife? Or would he wonder what was wrong with her?
“How much longer before we arrive at your place?” She forced her gaze to look ahead.
He grabbed her hand and placed it back. Then he pushed a lever on the column and the steering wheel eased up. “Time enough. Unzip me.”
For a moment, she closed her eyes. It was as if he read her earlier thoughts. She wanted him in her mouth again. So badly.
Without further hesitation, she leaned over and opened his jeans. She lifted his cock carefully out of the denim. With a confident grasp, she rotated her hand slightly along his length and stroked up and down.
“Oh, yeah. Firm hold. That’s the way.” His hips rose to meet each thrust of her hand. How was he keeping the truck on the road? If she’d been driving when he touched her, she’d gone off into the ditch.
Unable to resist, she bowed her head over his lap and sucked him in.
“Jesus H. Christ!” His long intake of breath could mean pain or pleasure, but when his palm held her head down, she grinned. Pleasure was the winner.
Unable to take him as deep as she wanted, she pulled back and ran her tongue around the head and then sucked him in again. Her other hand dived in and cupped the tight sac beneath, squeezing slightly. He jerked and the unique flavor of Jake Whitfield shot down her throat.
“Fuck!” His hand smoothed her hair down the back of her head. “You have a talented mouth. I’ve never come so fast. I have a lot to thank the boyfriend who taught you that.”
She licked the length of him as he softened. “No boyfriend. Books.” Afraid that he thought she was crazy, she peeked up. His lazy grin reassured her.
“Books? I guess I need to see some of those books you’re talking about.” He tipped up her face and brushed his thumb across the bottom lip. His gaze fought with looking at her and keeping an eye on the road. “Close up my jeans and tighten your seatbelt. We’re coming up to a very curvy section of the road.”
Angel zipped, fastened his pants, and quickly placed her belt back in place. Her hands began to shake. Opening and closing her eyes as if it would help stop the trembling, she grimaced. What was up with her? Too much stimuli for the last twenty-four hours?
Seconds after the latch clicked, a big roar filled the cab and her shoulder slammed into the door as metal on metal screeched. A large white delivery truck rammed them from the side, barely missing Jake’s door, as it pushed them into a utility pole. The person shifted gears, trying to either move the truck back or continue to drive through the bed into the cab. When she looked at the driver and caught only dark eyes in a black ski mask, she knew, first, it was no accident, and second, they didn’t have much time to escape.
“The son of a bitch!” Jake looked her way. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. We need to get out of here. He hit us on purpose and will ram us again.” She pulled at the door handle. It swung open with a loud pop and hung crookedly above a ditch about six feet deep. Their only way out.
“Give me the knife,” she screamed as she fought with the buckle. The stupid seatbelt had saved her but she needed out before their attacker charged again.
With no trouble, his belt released. He reached for hers. No matter how he jerked on it, it wouldn’t give.
The delivery truck struck again. Gears shrieked in protest as it attempted to flatten the pickup truck.
“Shit!” He jammed his hand into a pocket and pulled her knife out.
“Give it to me! Don’t press the button, it’s tricky, it’ll cut you!”
Without argument, he tossed her the knife. As she sawed at the thick material, he leaned over and scooped up the guns that had slid into her side of the floorboard.
The grinding of gears stopped, giving them a few seconds of warning that their attacker was backing up to plow into them once more.
Just as Angel cut her way out of the belt, the big truck smashed into them again. The pickup tilted, spilling them out into the ditch. Jake’s arms wrapped around her a second before they hit the ground and rolled to the deepest part. Then three tons of metal landed above their heads with a loud crunch, and the tinkling of glass showered them, but the pickup’s body was wider than the ditch. It stopped its descent, giving them room to scramble out of the way.
Jake held her away to scan for injuries. He nodded, satisfied she was unharmed. Without a word, he scrambled up the embankment, and she followed on his heels. As soon as he reached the top, he pulled a gun from his waistband and another from a pocket. No different from an old western, he fired in rapid succession. The ping, ping, ping of bullets hitting thin metal echoed around her. Then the squeal of tires and smell of rubber filled the air.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jake stood on the side of the road, staring as the plain white delivery truck with one working taillight disappear around the curve and out of sight.
“What is it about you that make people want to kill you?”
He turned to see Angel at the edge of the ditch, hands on knees, panting from the steep climb. Blood and sweat ran down her temple, smearing the white goop on her face. One side of her upper lip was already swollen. The throbbing near his left eye told him he was in no better condition.
“I’m a Whitfield,” he said simply.
“Well, there is that.” She slapped at her pants and coat. How in hell could the woman stand wearing leather in this heat? Yet, it’d probably stopped some of the glass from cutting her. His arm and cheek began to sting. Yeah, she most likely had fewer cuts than he did.
“Here. Put this in your coat pocket.” He handed her one of the guns.
A black eyebrow quirked up. “You trust me now?” Disbelief obvious in her tone. “Or you going to take it away again in a few minutes?”
“I trusted you before. Anyway, it’s unloaded. I needed to replace the ammo in my gun.” He turned and slid down into the ditch, trying to keep his feet under him. She’d followed to the top edge of the drop.
“Of course. I guess I could throw it at the asshole if he comes back.” She mumbled some more, and he grinned as he stooped and scanned the area beneath the overturned truck. “What are you looking for?”
“Cell phone.” Chances were it had tumbled out with them. Yep. There it was stuck in a pile of dead leaves. He skittered down the embankment and picked it up. One corner of the screen had a spiderweb crack. He rubbed the phone against his shirt and pressed a button to see if it still worked. It flickered and then lit up. Hot damn. He hadn’t been looking forward to hitchhiking or walking back home. On returning to the top of the embankment, he hit Home under contacts. “Tick!”
“Is that you, boss?”
“Yeah. Send Matt down 82. We’re about five miles from the house on the left.” Jake continued to watch Angel.
Picking up the knife stuck in the ground—luckily it hadn’t cut either of them—she closed it and slipped it into her coat. Then she flipped her red-tipped black hair behind a shoulder and stretched.
Unbelievable to imagine it, but he hardened.
“Whatcha you need him for?” Tick’s breathless question caught Jake’s attention. What was his employee nervous about?
“Matt had plenty of time to return.” The guard had left the motel an hour before Jake had rounded up Angel. As far as he knew, Matt hadn’t experienced any problems,
unlike his and Angel’s adventures. “Have you not seen him?”
“Well...”
“What the hell do I pay him for?” Tired, dirty, and inconceivably—considering the two soul-sucking blow jobs he had in the last twelve hours—horny as a teenager after prom, he couldn’t keep his gaze off her. Just looking at the woman, no matter what was going on around him, heated his blood. Instead of catching the asshole who was making his life a misery, he wanted to return home and take her to bed. He contemplated the woman sitting a few feet away in the grass as she watched the road. He wanted to find out what other tricks she’d learned from her books.
Maybe it was the adrenaline of nearly being killed twice. He remembered the knives and letter opener in the study. No, nearly being killed five times in twenty-four hours had pushed his libido into overdrive.
He turned as the crunch of gravel beneath tires caught his attention. All thought of having sex quickly dissipated as a Sand County Sheriff’s car pulled over with its light-bar flashing.
“Tick, be sure they send a cherry picker to lift a truck out of the ditch. Got to go. The law pulled up.” He ended the call and waited.
Dammit, police interference was the last thing he needed.
Jake: A Southern Crime Family Novel Page 12