Hijacked (3 page)

Once they were standing in the bathroom hallway, she folded her arms across her chest. “What the fuck was that about? Why did you tell him I’m Missy?” She hated that she even cared.

Vic’s hands balled into fists. His face was tight and stressed. “Because I’m his accountant and he doesn’t know the situation of my relationship with her. Hell, I’m not even sure I do.”

“So you just lied to him?”

“I panicked.”

“I guess the fuck you did.”

“Please go along with this.”

“I’m leaving.” Sharon moved past him and turned back around. “Tell him whatever the hell you want.”

* * * *

Sharon sat in her car and stared at the neon navy-blue sign that spelled
Night
, not certain if she was running from Vic and his stupidity or Kyle and the way she dreaded him thinking she was someone’s girlfriend. She sighed and started the car. Remembering she was only supposed to be gone for an hour and Kayla would be looking for her, she sent a text apologizing and headed home.

The car idled in front of her driveway. She couldn’t pull in. She didn’t want to be at home. She was never at home by ten-thirty on a Saturday and she wouldn’t be tonight. Hitting the gas, she peeled away and went to the all-night diner at the edge of town where she could eat pie and drink coffee and find some peace.

Opening the door, a small bell alerted the lone waitress someone was there. Sharon took a seat in a booth at the back and ordered a coffee while she looked over the menu. The diner was small, four booths lined two walls and there was only space for three tables in the center of the room. A light flickered overhead, humming.

The waitress delivered her coffee and Sharon ordered a piece of chocolate fudge pie. Not that she was hungry, she wasn’t, and as much as she loved sweets, she didn’t usually eat them, but she figured the entire night had been out-of-order so why not finish it out with something that would make her stomach happy.

Once the slice of chocolate goodness was staring back at her, she took a small bite, savoring the sweetness, and leaned back against the cushioned seat. She dug through her purse and pulled out the romance novel she’d started reading earlier in the week. Within minutes she was lost in the pages, just stopping long enough to sip coffee or get another mouthful of smooth chocolate.

Five chapters later, on the outer limits of her thoughts she heard someone talking, saying a name over and over again. Keeping her eyes on the page in front of her, she tuned in to the voice, a man’s.

Familiar.

Kyle.

Shit!

“Missy or Sharon?” His voice echoed in her head.

She closed her eyes, forcing her lids to block her sight, she told herself it was not happening. Kyle was not standing a foot away from her table. He was not giving her that damn crooked smile that made her heart do crazy things under her chest walls—flutters and flips she couldn’t control. She heard movement, heard someone slide into the seat across from her. She released the breath she’d been holding. Continuing to convince herself that if she didn’t see him, he wasn’t really there, she lifted the book directly in front of her face and opened her eyes to the black print that no longer looked like formed words but jumbled letters scattered across the page.

Her plate scooted across the table. The fork clinked against the cheap white glass on which her half-eaten slice of pie sat. She gnawed on the inside of her lip. Was he seriously eating her pie?

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” he asked.

She flinched at his voice and turned a page as if she could make sense of the printed words.

“Does Vic know you’re here?” he asked, lightly tapping the fork against the plate.

Sharon lowered the book, laying it on the table, and met his eyes. In the light of the diner the blue in them was more intense than what she recalled. And they were smoldering and sexy as hell, and the way they watched her made the inside of her thighs quake. She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to literally crawl across the top of the table and straddle him where he sat. She wanted to tell him the truth about her and Vic—that it was nothing but a fabrication he’d made up to save his pride because the real Missy was busy getting pounded by Stone Larson—but she figured it wasn’t her cover to blow, so instead she said, “Vic doesn’t control me.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that he does. I meant that maybe he would be worried.”

She picked up her cup and sipped at her coffee. Cold. She frowned and looked at her watch, she’d been reading for over two hours. “Vic’s fine. He’s probably drunk and has forgotten about me.” She waved at the waitress and held up the mug for a refill. “What are you doing here?”

He drummed his fingers on the table. “I live just down the road. Stopped in for a quick snack, and then I saw you. I couldn’t walk away without saying hello.”

“But you haven’t said
hello
, not yet, or was that it…you saying
hello
?”

“I guess that was it.”

“So now you’re leaving.” Sharon picked up the novel and opened it. “It was good to see you.” She flipped through the pages, not that she knew where she’d left off. The nearness of him had left her mind scrambled.

Kyle pushed the plate away and leaned toward the center of the table. His face went serious, his voice low and husky. “I’m not leaving until you do.”

Sharon’s heart raced. She swallowed hard, certain his only interest in her was what had happened between them in the storage room. Not for her. With him, it was different and she hated it. The feeling of her emotions being exposed was frightening. And the fact that she even cared he was sitting across from her, staring, soaking in her every move, waiting for permission to finish what they started, unnerved her even more.

She peeked over the top of the book, not surprised to find him watching her, but shocked that it wasn’t a stare of pure lust. His eyes held a combination of curiosity and fascination, making her uncomfortable…in a good way. Something she’d never experienced before. Something, if she fell for, she was certain would leave her broken. “You’re still here.”

He sat back against the seat, still holding the fork…her fork, twisting it between his fingers. Eyes solidly focused on hers, he smiled. “We need more pie.”

“What?” She glanced down at her plate. Empty.

“And coffee.” He motioned to the waitress who had yet to refill Sharon’s cup. The waitress, tall and lanky with short, curly brown hair, appeared immediately at his request. Kyle ordered another slice of chocolate fudge, a cup of coffee for himself, a refill for Sharon, and two forks.

“I’m good, not hungry.” Sharon closed her book and stuffed it inside her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder. “I’m leaving anyway.”

Kyle reached across the table, putting his hand on hers. “What else do you do, besides work at
Night
?”

Three hours later Sharon had told him about her dream to go to the beach and how she was working at
Night
to make the extra money for her trip. She told him about her shitty job at the factory and how she hated it. She told him what it was like growing up with a single mom who worked two jobs in order to make ends meet. She told him, she thought, too much about her life.

They walked out of the diner, into the night, stopping at her car. Kyle’s arms wrapped around her waist, and it felt right, like the palms pressing against her lower back belonged there. Missing pieces to a puzzle she had long since given up on.

“I should go,” she said without attempting to move from his grasp. Not being next to him seemed wrong.

“You should,” he whispered, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just under her ear, making her knees wobble and her thoughts scatter. “You should go home with me.”

She knew the best thing for her would be to run and stay as far away from him as possible. She’d let him in. In the three hours they’d talked, he’d learned more about her than anyone ever had. She couldn’t get emotionally attached. What would that do? Nothing. Nothing but eventually leave her crushed and heartbroken.

Ignoring the rational thoughts, the ones attempting to save her from the pain she never planned to experience, Sharon kissed him. He pulled her closer, pressing her body against his, and she became aware of the hard cock against her stomach. Her mind went back to hours before, how only his hand between her legs had pleasured her and she wanted more.

“I don’t think I can wait that long,” she groaned and slid her hand down between them, cupping his bulge, lightly rubbing.

Taking the soft spot at the base of his neck with her mouth, gripping his shirt in her fist, she tugged him closer, kissing and licking up his neck before finding his lips, parting them with her tongue. Moving backward, the car stopped them, the weight of his hips pinning her against it.

“Right…here,” she moaned in between breaths. “Now.” She unbuttoned his jeans and gave his zipper a quick jerk before sliding her hand down his shaft. A deep moan-growl sound escaped his lips.

His hands went to her silk covered breasts, squeezing then rolling the tight nipples between his fingers. She pictured his hands on her naked body and shivered. As his tongue trailed up her neck to her chin, he slipped a hand under her skirt, lightly pressing her clit between his forefinger and thumb, massaging. A shaky high-pitched whimper left her mouth. The pounding of her heart thudded in her ears. She couldn’t wait to feel his thickness against her walls as his length filled her, his skin against hers.

Suddenly, Kyle’s fingers left her center and both hands cupped each side of her face. He rested his forehead against hers. Breathless, he said, “We need to leave.”

“Wha…what?” Sharon gasped, trying to focus. Her head was spinning, skin tingling, and all she could think about was him bending her over the hood of the car and taking her right there.

“We have an audience.”

Confused, Sharon glanced at the glass door of the diner. The waitress stood there, hands on her hips, spying with distaste. “Oh.”

“My house?”

She started to refuse, but his mouth found her neck and the pulsing between her thighs kicked into high-gear. She swallowed hard, going against everything her head was telling her. “Lead the way.”

Sticks. He lived out in the sticks. His gravel driveway was at least a mile long, maybe more.

Sharon put her car in park and killed the engine. Bad idea. She should have just told him she would follow and then taken off the opposite way. She put her hand on the keys. It would be easy to start the car and go. After all, she’d insisted on driving her car for a reason—to leave when she felt the need.
Go! Now!
her brained screamed, but as he neared her car and opened the door, her insides went all mushy at the sight of his crooked, sideways grin and she knew there was no way she could leave.

Chapter 3

Kyle closed the door behind them and locked the dead bolt. The room still dark, he turned to walk through the foyer. Two steps in, his body was hammered by hers and he stumbled back, hitting the door as he tried to keep them both from crashing to the floor. Her hands were everywhere, roaming, searching. In a blink, she’d stripped him of his shirt, teething at his nipples. Her mouth trailed up his chest, his neck, and nibbled at his bottom lip as her hands tore at the button and zipper of his jeans.

Her fingers latched around the belt loops and she began lowering his jeans, her tongue dragging down his torso at the same pace. He strained to see her through the darkness, but his eyes failed to adjust. Surge after surge pulsed through his hard-as-steel cock at the thought of her mouth around him. It was too much, it had been too long. He was about to come. One touch, one damn touch, and he would blow.

And then it stopped, all of it, as if she’d disappeared. No kissing or licking or touching or feeling. The only sound was his own heart pounding in his head. Seconds ticked by, seeming like minutes as he stared at blackness. His body trembled in anticipation, and then he felt her.

Lightly, her tongue traced the underside of his dick and began flicking against the hyper-sensitive spot right under the head. He groaned, fingers tangling in her hair, wanting to be in her mouth. His legs went weak and shaky as her hand clasped around the base of his shaft, and he burrowed his shoulders against the door for support. Her lips pressed against his point, tongue flipping. Then her mouth parted.

The feel of her lips sliding over him, taking in his tip, forced a sharp breath from his lungs. Slowly, she took all of him. The back of her throat was warm and slick, and her moans vibrated against him, sending electric-like currents through every nerve under his skin, and he wasn’t certain how much longer he could last. His hands tightened in her hair.

She pulled back a little and began to bob, sucking him hard. His cock thumped, ready to come, and as abruptly as it started, her hands and mouth receded, leaving him disoriented. He pressed his palms to his eyes in disbelief and faintly, over the sound of thumping in his ears, he heard a wrapper tear. Half a second later, she was sheathing his cock.

He took her by the shoulders and pulled her up, turning her back to him, and tugged her close. Her ass nudged at his aching cock. He shuddered, positioning their bodies to where she faced the wall.

“Hands on the wall.” He pressed between her shoulder blades, gently assisting her movement as she obeyed.

Kyle grabbed her hips and gave them a quick jerk upward, and she gasped at the sudden movement, replacing the short intake of air for a deep and throaty moan. The tip of his cock bumped at her wetness, making his balls wrench with pain. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be blowing too soon…within seconds.

“Please,” she cried. Her back arched, ass shifting, plump round cheeks bumping at his cock. “Now…please.”

The words ringing through his head, Kyle hiked her skirt over her hips and reached between her legs, dragging his fingers the entire length of her slit, wetting them all with her slick heat. He slid a finger in and out, then two.

Her hips pushed out, spreading the wet opening even further. “More,” she cried.