Vicious Rebel (82 Street Vandals #2) - Heather Long Page 0,137

left the highway and turned down toward a hotel that sat on another bluff overlooking the water.

It was a gorgeous, colonial revival style set of buildings with a huge main structure and what looked like bungalows beyond two wings that curved off to the sides of the central building. White columns marked the entrances, and there was a red, almost sandstone roof crowning it. The road winding from the highway to it had some beautiful landscaping, even if it was mostly brown and faded under the wintry sun.

Speaking of which, that sun was rapidly sinking in the sky, and I reached for my hat and tugged it back on. The guys didn’t want anyone to recognize me. This place was pretty upscale, if somewhat deserted. “I don’t know if they’re open,” I said as we drew closer.

“They are,” Jasper said, grinning. “Trust me.”

“Don’t abuse it,” I murmured, but his grin didn’t diminish one iota.

“I promise, I won’t.” He followed the road around to where a parking area held a few vehicles. After choosing a slot for us away from the others and backing into it, he slid open the glove compartment.

The gun present inside surprised me. It shouldn’t. But it did.

“I don’t suppose you know how to use this?”

“What gave me away?” I wasn’t sure if it was my reply or my tone that made him grin.

“Okay, we’ll fix that soon enough.”

A thrill barreled through me. He was going to teach me how to fire a gun? To use one?

Before I could totally grapple with that, he pulled something else out of his pocket and depressed a button. A knife flicked out the end. “Easy enough, yeah?” He snapped it closed, then pressed the button and the blade flicked out again.

“Um, how long am I going to be in the car?”

“Not long, Swan, I promise. But I’m not leaving you exposed without protection. So, car is on, heat is on. Gun is in there. It’s very simple—point and shoot. Just press this button here on the side before you squeeze the trigger. The knife, far more basic, but slashes work. Cut them across the palm or the eyes, that will slow them down. If you have to stab them to get away, you fucking stab them.”

“Groin work?” I should probably feel worse about this whole plan, but all I had to think about were those guys at the park or the man in the kitchen at the shop.

Or Eric.

Or Uncle Bradley.

“Bloodthirsty,” he murmured, then kissed me hard and swift. “I like it. I’ll be right back. If you need me, you slam your hand down on this horn and blare it for all its worth.”

I licked my lips.

He pushed open his door after giving me another hard kiss that sent feeling sizzling through me. “Lock the door.” Command filled those three words, and I was tempted to flip him off, even playfully. But I didn’t.

Instead, I just reached over and hit the door locks as he waited and watched. His pleased smile sent another pulse of heat to bounce through my system, and I clenched my thighs.

Between waking up between Vaughn and Kellan that morning, playing with Rome all day, and then the drive, I ached with wanting so bad, and more…I just wanted to spend more time with him.

With all of them.

But I really had missed Jasper.

I twisted in the seat and tracked him across the parking lot. It wasn’t until I sat back and let out a little girly giggle, hand fixed around the handle of the knife, that it hit me.

In front of me, the sun had begun its descent toward the water, and I let out a slow smile. If I were to compile the list of amazing days I’d had in my life, this one already counted in the top ten. Maybe the top five.

Probably the top two, who was I kidding?

Six months.

Six months without a show. Without a rehearsal. Without my uncle. Without Eric. Without pain.

Tonight, I was going out on a date…for real.

As promised, Jasper was back at the car in less than ten minutes. He slid inside as soon as I unlocked the doors and leaned over to cup my face. The swift seal of his mouth to mine sent my pulse racing, and I leaned into the touch, clasping his wrist, as eager to hold on to him as he seemed to be to taste me.

“Fuck, that was too long to be gone,” he whispered.

“It was ten minutes.”

“Trust me, felt a

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