Itried to raise my head off his lap a second time.
Pierce’s firm hand pressed against the base of my skull. “Stay down.”
I glanced up at him through my lashes. The hard, muscled planes of his chest with its scattering of dark hair were visible through the wet fabric of his shirt.
The car’s heated seats fought against the wind coming through the broken window to warm our chilled bodies and wet clothes. The scent of leather and fabric softener, combined with the crisp outside air, filled the interior. After several weeks of being confined in jail, constantly surrounded by the odor of boiled cabbage and the pungent moldy stench of dirty mops, it smelled clean and fresh.
I was not attracted to him. Even if he was everything I wished his brother had been.
Tearing my gaze from his chest, my eyes dropped lower.
It was just there!
Lying against his inner thigh.
Inches from my mouth.
It pressed against the fabric of his slacks like it was trying to break free.
I had a flashback to that day weeks ago in my bookshop.
On my knees.
The taste of his come.
Oh my fucking god!
Breaking free of his restraining hand, I sat up so fast the blood rushed to my head and the world tilted.
What a strange turn my life had taken since moving to Cliffs End. If I had read this in a book, I’d have accused the author of plotting an unbelievable storyline. I drew my knees up higher, uncaring about the mud my ballet flats smeared across the seat edge. Hunching my shoulders lower, I turned and looked back through the rear window.
A low ground fog drifted around us, trapped between the tall pine trees as we raced deeper along the winding country road. There didn’t appear to be anyone chasing us.
I squinted to see past the gray and the gloom for a flare of red or blue lights and strained to listen for the sound of sirens.
There was nothing.
Pierce reached over to the center console and pressed the LCD screen. It lit up. He selected the phone number for a man named Michael with the title Head of Security listed under his name and turned the volume up.
“Boss.”
“What the fuck?” ground out Pierce. I flinched.
“There’s no excuse,” came Michael’s resigned voice over the car’s speakers.
“You’re goddamn right there’s no excuse. What the fuck happened? She could have been killed. You put her in danger.”
Shifting over as close to the passenger door as space would allow, I stared out the side window and tried to pretend I wasn’t listening to the conversation.
Shecould have been killed?Youputherin danger? It almost sounded as if he was angrier about threats to my safety than his own.
“We secured the one guard and thought the other was out cold, so we left him in the conference room while we went to apprise the judge. He must have woken up and alerted the other guards, telling them it was a convict escape.”
Pierce took his hand off the wheel and ran it through his hair as he blew out a puff of air. “You think? I want this mess cleaned up. Now.”
“It’s done, Boss. We have the guards in our custody, and the CA and judge are working on a cover story. I told them you’d pay the usual fe?—”
Pierce ended the call before he could finish.
