Big Bad Boys A Romance Collection - Penny Wylder Page 0,155

he's thinking or what he wants. I already know.

We walk out of the building, and I'm just letting him guide me. I'll go where he wants me to go. I don't want him to let go of my hand, I want him to hold it forever.

“Did you drive?” Phade asks, finally ending the silence between us.

“No.” Shaking my head, I brush the hair away from my face and look up at him. “I drove with Daniel.”

“Good.” Phade smiles and winks. “I'll take you home.”

We cross the parking lot. It's chilly out, so I snuggle up a little closer to Phade. I can feel him looking down on me as I steal some of his body heat. He pulls me in more, tucking my body into his side.

I hear the beep of an alarm and see the lights flash on a truck. It's not the type of vehicle I expect him to have. He isn't driving a fancy BMW or Ferrari, it's not a Range Rover worth a year of my salary.

I've seen this vehicle in the parking lot of our building, but I always thought it belonged to one of the security guards or janitors.

“This is you?” I ask.

“Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?”

“Nothing's wrong with it, it's just not what I expected. I thought you'd have a two door racecar or a big SUV or something.”

“Surprise, you weren't even close.” Phade chuckles as he opens my door. “Let me help you in.” With one quick swoop, he lifts me off my feet and places me on the front bench seat.

The truck is a beast. It's a faded army green Dodge Ram, with rust colored crescent moons over each of the fender walls. The entire body is pock marked in small dents, and the windshield has a thin crack that stretches out like a scratch on skin.

The inside is worn. There are thin veins in the fabric of the bench seat, making it look like old skin. The dashboard has a tape deck and the roof liner is dipping down off the metal frame.

Phade closes my door and walks around the truck, climbing into the driver's seat. He starts the truck and it roars to life, like a lion who has smoked his entire life. There's a cough and a hiccup, another cough, and then the engine is purring.

He takes my hand again before he says a word, braiding our fingers together and pulling my hand over, resting it in his lap.

“She's pretty, isn't she?”

“She's old.”

Laughing, he runs his free hand up and over the steering wheel. “She might be old, but she's never let me down. I bought her with the money from my first tournament win when I was sixteen years old.”

“And that was how long ago?” Giggling, I scoot closer, bringing my thigh right up to the tall shifter arm.

“Over ten years ago.” Licking his lips, he smiles. “It was already used and old when I bought it. But I won enough to buy it outright, which made it mine. I was so proud of this truck at the time, I never imagined I'd ever be able to afford a vehicle of my own.”

“You can afford something better than this now, you've come a long way from the start.”

“I can, doesn't mean I need to.” He crosses his arm over his chest and pulls the gear shift into drive. “And I love my truck, she represents everything I've gone through to get here.”

I watch him from the corner of my eyes and I realize how deep this man actually goes. He has feelings, he has respect, and he takes pride in everything he does.

We drive back to my place in silence, despite the spontaneous spit of engine backfire and clank of metal on metal under the hood. Phade pulls up to the curb, putting the truck in park and letting it idle.

We're still holding hands. I don't want to let go. His grip loosens, but I tighten mine. “You want to come up?” I ask, tilting my head and peering up at him under hooded lids.

I want more. The night doesn't have to end here. All he has to do is say yes. My body is growing tender, my nipples hard as they brush against the inside of my dress.

The thought of having him in my home makes my body ignite like a bonfire. Invisible sparks fly around me, singeing my skin like hot ash. My thighs get slick, wet, so wet I can feel it spilling