social media?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Could he have a tracker on your car?”
She shakes her head. “I doubt it. I don’t think he knew my car.”
“Used your credit cards? I’m guessing no, but you stayed in a hotel, you’ve been getting gas, so…?”
“I’ve been careful.”
“And now you’ve got a gun, and you registered it. That’s a paper trail, but unless he’s hired someone to check into you, I doubt he’ll find it. I might be able to do something about it. If I’d known your problem the other day I could have gotten a gun for you off the books.”
“Shit, I didn’t think of that.”
She looks worried. I slide my hand to her face and tilt her chin up with my thumb. “Hey, you see him around or you even get a weird feeling that something’s not right, you call me. Day or night. I’ll be here. If I can’t get to you one of the prospects will. Understand?”
She nods, her eyes filling with tears. “I got lucky when I broke down.”
I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, you did. I’ve been tryin’ to make you understand that.”
I pull the blanket from us and carry her naked body back inside, through the house, and to her bed. And then I lay her down and slide inside her. She’s wet and ready, and fuck if it doesn’t feel like coming home.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ashlynn—
I stretch and reach out a hand, but the bed is empty. My eyes fly open. Did Rusty leave? Surely I would have heard the motorcycle start up. I fling the sheets back and crawl from bed. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see his shirt and leather cut hung over the chair.
I smile, slip his denim shirt on, and fasten one snap between my breasts, and then I slip my panties on and pad from the room. I see him through the lace curtains of the living room windows. He’s out on the porch, sitting in one of the wicker chairs with a cup of coffee raised to his mouth.
The screen door creaks as I push through, and his gaze swings to me. He smiles, his eyes sweeping down and taking in his shirt and my bare legs. He lifts his arm for me to crawl onto his lap.
I curl up on him, wrapping an arm around his neck and stealing his steaming mug for a sip.
“Hmm,” I breathe, taking in the rich aroma and flavor. “You make good coffee.”
“It’s your blend,” he replies, his warm palm stroking up my thigh until he hits the edge of my panties. “Aw, I was hoping you had nothing on under here.”
I grin. “Didn’t think a scrap of lace would stop you.”
He slips his fingers under the edging, accepting the challenge. “You thought right.”
My hand trembles with reaction to his stroking fingers.
“Don’t spill, Vegas.”
He keeps up his feather-light touches until I set the mug down on the small table and shift, giving him better access. His muscled chest is bare, and his tattooed skin is warm as I cuddle to him, writhing under his touch.
I’m soon teetering on the edge of an orgasm when he presses his mouth to my ear and whispers, “My baby’s so wet and ready this morning.”
“Yes,” I pant.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to make me come.”
“Open the shirt,” he murmurs. “Let me see those pretty tits.”
It’s early morning, and we’re out in the country, still I’ve never been one for exposing myself in public. Never even flashed anyone. I’ve always been such a prude that way. Not that I’m ashamed of my body, I just have never had any exhibitionist tendencies. But his words are like silky smoke curling around me and urging me on. I want to please him. I want to obey him. Dare I?
I writhe, my back bowing against his hard chest, and my head falling on his shoulder.
“Pop that snap, Vegas.” This time there’s a deeper thread to his voice, a little more forceful and urgent.
I comply, closing my hands over the placket and pulling the shirt wide open with a pop of the snap.
“Shrug it down your shoulders a bit.”
I do as he orders.
His lips press to my bare shoulder with the softest of kisses, then he works his way up to nuzzle my neck, behind my ear, and then nips at my lobe.
He spreads my legs wide as I lean against him, and two fingers slip inside me. My hips lift, my body wanting more.
My head rolls on his shoulder.