“Your annoyingness is starting to outweigh your hotness, lawman.” She ignored his sexy laugh and pulled her cell from her back pocket. The old checking-the-email trick. Utter bullshit at the moment. The words on the screen could have been hieroglyphics, that’s how little they registered.
“You need gas. I’ll head toward town and get some.”
She sighed. Kind of hard to give him attitude when he insisted on being a nice guy. “Thanks.”
Another glance came her way, this one with a gentler smile. “No problem.”
Curtis
Curtis gave Sara the reprieve she obviously needed for the duration of the drive to town. Whatever her reasons, she seemed to want everybody, him included, to brand her as a bitch. Maybe she was—in part. But there was more to her than that. Had to be, for good people like Conn and Nia to hold her close in their daily lives. Then there was his gut. It told him to keep pushing, that if he dug deep enough, he’d find more than the hot woman with a giant attitude and a smart mouth. His gut had never failed him.
He shook his head while pulling into the gas station. Why the hell was he thinking—or caring—about what made Sara tick? He’d agreed to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn’t jump the rails and ruin his brother’s wedding. That job didn’t require understanding her on a deeper level. A side effect of his job, always trying to figure people out. That’s where this interest in Sara had come from. Nothing more than that.
He hadn’t even turned the ignition off before Sara removed her seat belt.
“I’ll pump it,” she said, going for the door handle.
He caught her arm and pulled her toward him. “Save your pumping for later.”
She rolled her eyes, though clearly for effect. Her smile gave her away, whether she’d intended it to or not. “It’s my car. I can pump my own gas.”
“Not while I’m around.” He hopped out, grabbed the doorframe and leaned back into the vehicle. “Unless you’re wearing short-shorts, high heels and a bikini top. Then I’m going to insist that you pump the gas. While I supervise, of course.”
“Oh my god, dude. Cliché much?”
“There’s a reason clichés exist, babe. They work.” He winked and left her smiling and laughing in the front seat. That’s how he wanted her. Well, one of the ways.
He filled the Trans Am’s tank until it couldn’t hold one more drop, hung the nozzle on the pump and returned to the driver’s seat. “What?” he asked when Sara scowled across at him.
“Did you fill it?”
“Yeah.” He clicked his seat belt into place.
“You should have asked my permission before you did that.”
He leaned over the center console, invading her personal space and not giving a fuck. “I don’t ask permission. When you’re with me, you’re going to get filled up.”
At close range, her eyes were even more incredible. Flecks of green speckled the amber irises, giving them what seemed like limitless depth. If he was going to spend hours staring into her eyes though, he’d prefer to do it while they were naked and in bed.
“Here’s thirty,” she said, ignoring his comment. In the limited space between them, she poked him with what had to be some folded bills. “I’ll have to give you the rest tomorrow.”
Since they were playing the ignoring game… “Your breath smells like mint.”
“Congratulations on that brilliant observation.”
Even close enough to make out, with the heat between them fogging the windows—in June—her attitude never fucking ended.
“Here’s an observation—you were drinking beer minutes before we left the party.” He curled his fingers over her hand where it continued to poke against his ribs.
She stuck out her tongue, revealing a small white candy. “What can I say, I’m a fan of fresh breath.”
“Then I hope you have more of those candies for later.” He pulled the cash from her fist and flicked it aside, then guided her palm to his fly. “I’ve got plans for that smart mouth of yours, and they involve several four-letter words, none of which are ‘mint.’”
“Is that a threat?” she asked, squeezing his cock beneath the denim.
“A promise.” One he intended to make good on as soon as they got to his hotel room—if he could wait that long.
He cupped her nape and hauled her half onto his lap. Her hip connected with the steering wheel, the impact pitching her flat against him. Only there was nothing flat about this woman. Fuck no. Soft, full tits pressed to his chest. An ass made for smacking overfilled his palm. Luscious lips brushed his mouth.
And some moron who clearly wanted a beating chose this moment to tap on the driver’s side window.
“Is that guy for real?” Sara said without moving an inch. “Lower the window.”
Oh man. This ought to be interesting. He leaned forward, sandwiching her between his body and the steering wheel, and did as instructed.
“We’re not looking for a third,” she said when the last inch of glass disappeared and a balding, red-faced man bent to look inside. “You’re not my type and I don’t think Curtis swings that way.” She turned to face him. “Do you?”
Jesus. This woman was the human equivalent of a grab bag. “No. I don’t.”
“Good. I really don’t do well at the sharing thing.” She turned back to the nervous-looking guy on the other side of the driver’s door. “See? No room for you.” She shimmied where she sat. “There’s barely room for the two of us.”
Curtis groaned. Partly from the pressure on his dick as she rolled her hot body on his lap. Also from the Sara effect—a sensation somewhere between embarrassment and fuck yeah.
“Go bye-bye now.” She hit the button for the window and the glass started to rise.
“Uh, miss, you two need to move the car. There’s a lineup.” The guy’s words squeaked through the crack before the window sealed at the top.
Curtis craned his neck and checked the rear window. Two cars and a minivan. “Shit. You’d better get off.”
“Look, lawman, I’m pretty easy, but even I need a little more than some heavy breathing and a butt squeeze.”
A gut-buster burst from his mouth as she winked and wiggled her wicked self over to the passenger seat. “Buckle up, troublemaker. We’ve got somewhere to be.”
Chapter 3
Sara
We’ve got somewhere to be.
He’d meant his hotel room. Or maybe an empty parking lot somewhere off the beaten path. Either would work for what they both wanted to do next. But Curtis’ earlier words kept repeating, and each replay jabbed at her heart. Talk about a libido killer.
Sara could ignore her pesky conscience most of the time. Not when it came to her family. Hell, they were her conscience. Without their love, patience and support, she would have jumped off a bridge, figuratively and literally, many times. She owed it to them to back away from the ledge on her own this time.
“Change of plans.”
“With you…” Curtis glanced over, his lips curving upward slightly. “Not even going to hazard a guess.”