Hell on Wheels

by Karen Kelley

  He stumbled on the uneven sidewalk and leaned heavily against her for support. She drew in a deep breath. Accident or on purpose, she wondered. No, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt. This was the best bar and grill in Fort Worth, but it wasn’t in the nicest part of town so the sidewalk and streets weren’t in great shape.

  Maybe for a moment, though, she could pretend his touch meant something. Tomorrow would be time enough to face reality.

  Lost in her own thoughts, it took her a moment for the enormity of her situation to sink in as her gaze landed on the parking lot. Then it hit her in the face like a bucket of cold water that had been thrown on her. Her mouth went dry, her legs trembled, her pulse quickened.

  He’d driven the Mustang.

  She almost let go of Josh and hurried to the car, but at the last moment stopped herself. It didn’t keep her insides from trembling, though. God, the Mustang was so sweet.

  Competition orange was waxed to a high sheen, and in the glow from the streetlight, it stood out from the rest of the vehicles. A bright topaz amidst colored glass. Her gaze skimmed over the car. Not a dent, not a scratch marred her magnificence.

  “I know that she-witch popped me pretty hard, but are we moving forward or standing still?” Josh asked.

  “You drove the Mustang,” she stated in a breathy whisper.

  “Yeah?”

  “You can’t drive it in your condition.” Hell, she’d kill him before she’d let that happen.

  “I thought you were going to drive me?”

  “But it’s…the Mustang.”

  “Don’t you know how to drive a standard?”

  Her brows drew together. “Of course I know how to drive a standard.”

  “I don’t see the problem then.”

  But he might in the morning. Man, Red had knocked him a good one. As far as she knew, no one drove the Mustang except Josh.

  She grinned. He shouldn’t have beaten her at pool. Sweet, sweet revenge.

  As they made their way toward the car, he stumbled again. At the last minute, she remembered to catch him to her so he wouldn’t fall. When they finally made it to his car, she ran her hands over his butt before leaning him against the back door.

  He had a nice, firm ass. Her hands lingered a little longer than necessary.

  “I knew you couldn’t resist my body.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up.” Her pulse had to be at least a hundred and twenty beats per minute. Outwardly, she was calm. At least she hoped so. But then, he was loopy so what did it matter?

  “I wasn’t feeling you up, only making sure your pockets didn’t have any metal on them. I’d hate for you to wake up tomorrow and find a scratch on her.”

  “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Feel any metal.”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should check again.”

  Her heart caught in her throat. “I don’t think so. Give me your keys.”

  He reached into his pocket. “Damn, my head is really pounding.” He grabbed his head. She caught him to her so he didn’t fall over. One of her legs slipped between his, her body pressed intimately against his, her thigh against his crotch. The heat from his body begged her to explore, to touch, to taste, to fulfill her every desire.

  She quickly put a few inches between them. This was just great. The man could be dying and all she could do was lust after his body.

  “Maybe you should let me get the keys,” she told him. She’d retrieve the keys, get him inside the car, and stop thinking about sex. Yeah, like she could really make herself stop thinking about sex with Josh.

  “Good idea. You get the keys.”

  She straightened him a bit more before reaching into his front pocket. For a moment, she was sorely tempted to move her fingers a little further over. Her thighs quivered. Her nipples tightened.

  Damn it, she had to stop before she threw him down on the ground and had her way with him. Just deliver him to his home and get the hell out of there.

  “I don’t feel them.” She raised her head; their noses were only inches apart. The heat of his warm breath tickled, and for a second she could’ve sworn he looked as lucid as the next person. So how much of his condition was fake, and how much was real?

  She couldn’t be sure.

  “Like I said, they’re not there.” She pulled her hand from his pocket.

  “Other one.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”

  “Felt good.”

  “Not funny. If you’re faking this I swear you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” She watched him for some sign that he was making more out of his injury than was there.

  “Ow,” he moaned, closing his eyes.

  It was hard to tell. Damn it, he did have a good-sized lump on his head, but if he was pulling her leg, she’d put another knot on his head that would make the first one seem small in comparison!

  She jerked the keys out of his other pocket and unlocked the car before helping him slide into the passenger side. Once she had him in the seat, his head resting on the back, eyes closed, only then did she take a deep, cleansing breath.

  After shutting his door, she went to the driver’s side and climbed into the seat.

  She forgot Josh as the car caressed her senses.

  The black leather cupped her bottom. Ahhh…nice. The seat fit her butt perfectly. She’d have thought it was made especially for her. This was good…so good. She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled the scent of leather.

  Nothing else could compare. She’d always wondered if she might be a little…strange. The scent of leather or a man with a little grease on him turned her on quicker than all the fancy colognes or vested suits. As the scent curled around her, she knew this was no exception.

  Butterflies fluttered inside her belly. Start the car, she told herself. Ask Josh where he lived and get the hell out of there. Her gaze fell on the steering wheel. Too late.

  Just one touch, one sweet stroke, then she’d concentrate on driving.

  She ran her hands over the hard steering wheel, feeling each ridge, each bump. Deep breath, she told herself. Calm down. How could she? This was the Mustang.

  She opened her eyes, taking everything in. The visors, the dash…the gearshift. Her legs trembled as her hand closed over the round knob, pushing the smooth surface against her palm. She bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning.

  Josh coughed, or maybe it was a gurgle, but it drew her attention away from the car and back to him. Damn, he’d been watching her. His mouth had dropped open and he looked a shade paler, somewhat sickly.

  “If you’re going to toss your cookies tell me and I’ll help you out of the car.” God forbid he puke in here. It would be sacrilegious.

  His mouth snapped shut. “No, I’m fine.” He leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes once more. “I’ve just never seen a woman have an orgasm feeling up a car before. It turned me on.”

  Heat spread to her face. “I didn’t have an orgasm. I just appreciate the fact that you have a very…nice car.”

  She frowned as she inserted the key and turned the ignition. The car roared to life, practically vibrating the seat beneath her. Her panties grew damp. She closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her.

  “What…” She cleared her throat. “What do you have under the hood?” The engine had to be at least a three-fifty.

  “A four-sixty,” he murmured without opening his eyes.

  Oh God, a four-sixty? She clamped her legs together.

  Soft snoring came from the other seat. He was asleep. She ran her hands over the steering wheel, across the dash. Damn, this was so sweet.

  Stop thinking about the car. She should be concerned about his injury, not his blasted car and what he had under the hood. Wow, a four-sixty. Too cool.

  And he shouldn’t be sleeping.

  “Josh, where do you live?”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it.<
br />
  “Your address?”

  He frowned. “I’m thinking.” He shook his head, then grimaced.

  “Maybe we should go to the hospital after all?”

  “I have an aversion to hospitals. I’ve always come out of them feeling worse than when I went in. Home is fine. As soon as I remember where I live.”

  She could drive around the city until he remembered. Ripples of excitement ran up and down her arms.

  As tired as she was, maybe that wasn’t a good idea. She could take him to her apartment. Her gaze trailed over him. The same feelings she’d just had for the car washed over her as she stared at his magnificent body.

  Nope, not on her life, wasn’t going to happen, no way, no how. But memories plagued her. Sensuous, hot memories.

  She drew in a deep breath. She’d promised herself only one night with Josh, and she’d had it. End of story. She’d drive him home and say good-bye.

  His driver’s license would be in his wallet, but it would take him forever to get it out of his back pocket. She slipped her hand behind him. He really did have a great ass. Damn, she was practically on top of him.

  He opened his eyes. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.” He kissed her lips.

  Short and sweet, but so damn hot she felt it all the way to her toes. And he hadn’t even used tongue.

  “I was trying to get your wallet so I’d know where you live. It’s kind of hard to drive you home if I don’t have an address.”

  “Around you, baby, it’s always hard.” A wicked gleam entered his eyes.

  Her own narrowed. “Har har. And I’m not your baby, and I didn’t give you permission to kiss me.”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t help it, though. You taste good.” He closed his eyes.

  Shaking her head, she slipped his wallet out and opened it. Lots of greenbacks. He shouldn’t carry so much cash. He’d be too easy to roll.

  He had pictures.

  She looked at him. It would be wrong to snoop, but he’d closed his eyes again. She couldn’t resist. Professional hazard.

  The first picture was of a dark-haired man. Nice. Sexy. The next was of a dark-haired woman. She frowned. A dark, mysterious woman. Kind of bitchy looking, in her opinion. A lover?

  She flipped to the next picture and breathed easier when she saw it was a picture of the dark-haired woman with the dark-haired man. The woman had her arms around the man and she looked very pregnant. Anyone could see they were in love with each other. Okay, maybe not as bitchy as she’d first thought. Not that it would’ve mattered to her one way or another.

  Josh shifted.

  She quickly moved to the other side of his wallet and found his driver’s license. He didn’t even take a bad DL picture. Her gaze moved to the address. Terrific. All that trouble for a post office box. It was doubtful she could stuff him into a mail slot, no matter how tempting the thought.

  “This is a post office box number. Why don’t you have a regular address like normal people?”

  He yawned. “It’s a commercial license. Not required if you register your address. Safe that way in case a skip gets hold of your wallet.”

  “I knew that,” she mumbled. She had been going to get a commercial license but hadn’t gotten around to it. It didn’t help her current dilemma. She studied Josh. He’d saved her butt when Leonard’s friend had pulled his gun. Then tonight he’d attempted to help her.

  Damn.

  Last resort—her apartment. She really didn’t want to wake up in the morning with him underfoot. For the first time in her life, she wished she had a lock on her bedroom door. One that would keep her in. Josh Pierce was too damn much of a distraction.

  Nothing would happen. Not in his condition. She’d leave the apartment early the next morning while he slept. Maybe prop a note somewhere he could find it.

  She might not have sex with him again, but at least she’d get to drive his Mustang. She crammed his wallet in her back pocket, not about to return it to his, and she didn’t feel comfortable leaving it in the car. He could have it back in the morning.

  She clutched and shifted into reverse, backing out of the space. She hadn’t even gotten out of the parking lot and her insides were quivering. The Mustang was almost as good as her Harley.

  She shifted into first, and felt the roar of the engine beneath her before backing off the gas. She wondered what the car would do on an open stretch of highway. She was tempted to find out.

  Maybe someday, she sighed, but for now she had to get home and get Josh bedded down. No, she didn’t want to think about Josh and bed in the same thought.

  But a mental image flashed across her mind just the same. Josh naked and sprawled across her cotton sheets, her head resting on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, feeling the texture of his skin beneath her hands, inhaling his scent, her mouth trailing kisses over his naked body.

  This was such a bad, bad idea.

  She drew in a shaky breath and concentrated on getting home.

  The drive to her apartment didn’t take long. It would’ve been nice to drive his car a little more. This was probably the last time she’d even get to ride in it.

  She pulled into the parking garage attached to her apartment building and whipped into the space closest to the entry that would take them to the elevator. With a sigh of regret, she turned the ignition off. One last caress, one last look, and she stepped outside. Going to the passenger side, she opened the door.

  “We’re here.” She nudged his shoulder. Great, he’d fallen asleep. She knelt down and nudged again.

  He turned toward the open passenger door and groggily opened his eyes. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth when he stared into her face. “I knew I’d get you in my bed.”

  “Not quite, but you did get me into your car. Nice car, by the way.”

  He sat up and looked around. “Where are we?”

  “The parking garage of my apartment building.”

  “Planning to have your way with me, huh? Good thing I woke up.”

  “In your dreams.” She stifled a laugh. He made it difficult to remain serious around him.

  Maybe all wasn’t lost now that he was somewhat awake and sort of alert. “I don’t suppose you remember your address?”

  “Of course I do.” He frowned at her as if she’d just asked the dumbest question he’d ever heard.

  Hope rose inside her chest. “Where?” Maybe she could get him home after all.

  “Post office box three-one-five.”

  She might have pursued the issue except he’d gotten his post office box numbers backwards. She had no desire to drive around Fort Worth for the rest of the night. It would be just her luck if he led her to the home of his last skip. Wouldn’t that cause a stir if they ran into the skip’s pissed-off friends?

  She tugged on his arm while he slid around in the seat, feet landing on the concrete garage floor.

  “You smell so damn good,” he said. “Have I ever told you that?”

  “Once or twice.” She tugged him to his feet, then braced him against the car until he had his balance.

  “You’ve always been in my dreams…in my fantasies…my every waking moment. Don’t you want to put me out of my misery?”

  She chuckled. “Sorry, I left my gun in my nightstand, but I can get it out when we get upstairs.”

  “You wound me.” He clutched his heart and began to slide sideways.

  She grabbed him, and he pulled her close, staring down into her face. Her heart caught in her throat.

  “You have pretty eyes. It’s hard to look away. And you have sexy lips, too.” His head began to lower.

  Automatically, she raised hers. Damn it, she jerked away. “And you probably tell that to every woman you want to go to bed with.” No wonder he went through women like water through a sieve.

  “Just you, darlin’. Just you.”

  The spell was broken.

  “You’re so full of it.” She put his arm around her shoulders and began walking him to
ward the glass door. “Just try not to step on my toes.”

  Thankfully, she didn’t run into any of her neighbors before she got Josh inside her apartment. They already looked at her as if she were from another planet.

  One reason might be that she was coming and going at all hours, and maybe because she’d been dressed in every imaginable and outlandish disguise, from a maid to a derelict. They never asked about her job and she’d never had the inclination to tell anyone she was a bounty hunter. Hell, most of the tenants were so old they didn’t care as long as she minded her own business. That suited her just fine.

  She unlocked her door and they went inside. Kicking the door shut with her foot and leaving the entryway light on, she aimed Josh toward the sofa, except they stumbled along the way and landed in a heap on the sofa, him on top of her.

  “Sorry about that. Everything is still a little fuzzy.”

  He moved off, but his hand stayed on her bare waist, pulling her closer. God, how could he make her feel this good with just a touch?

  “Have I mentioned how great you smell?”

  She would’ve laughed, except his hand felt incredibly sensual against her bare skin and his lips against her neck were causing a reaction much further down on her body.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she wiggled away from him and off the sofa. A little distance between them made all the difference.

  “Your couch is hard,” he grumbled. “I promise not to touch you if you let me sleep in your bed.”

  She did laugh then. It bubbled right out of her—more so when she saw the disgruntled look on his face.

  “Can I at least have a pillow?”

  “A pillow and a blanket, but that’s all you’ll be getting from me. Remember, you’re injured.” She went to the hall closet and took down a blanket and pillow, tossing them to him when she returned.

  He pulled the pillow close to him and closed his eyes. Before he could get too comfortable, she brought an icepack for his head. She hoped the movies were accurate about ice to stop the swelling. There was one other thing she vaguely remembered.

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to go to sleep. Not with a head injury.”

  “Then talk to me or I will.” He frowned, staring at her wall. “And why the hell do you have pictures of fugitives on your wall?”