“Then I guess we’re not getting gas, huh?”
He didn’t have the patience for this. The exit he needed was less than a mile away. He grabbed her arm and one-handedly wrestled it down enough to snap the cuff around her wrist. She struck out, and he leaned toward his window to avoid the blow. The car swerved.
“Fuck!” He slapped both hands on the wheel to straighten the vehicle before they went into the woods off the exit ramp.
She continued to smack him, raining ineffectual punches down on his shoulder and arm. It was annoying but didn’t hurt, and he could ignore it until he got control of the car. Then she swiveled in the seat, got her legs involved, and yeah, that wasn’t exactly comfortable. Her foot connected with his ribs and knocked the air from his lungs. The next kick slammed into the gearshift, and the car started a sickly whine as it slowed to a crawl on the exit ramp.
She grabbed the door handle and yanked…
It didn’t move.
“Sorry, vixen. Child protective locks.” He wrestled the shifter back into place and eased the car to the stop sign at the bottom of the ramp, laughing as she cursed like one of his Navy buddies and turned her ferocious kicks on the poor, unsuspecting door.
Maybe he shouldn’t be enjoying himself so much, but he was. Damn, he really was. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun. “That’s not going to work, either.”
She turned on him, hair sticking up, eyes throwing daggers, her chest heaving with each indrawn breath. All feral and…
Really fucking hot.
There was suddenly a lot less room in the front of his pants, and he shifted in his seat to ease the pressure. Her gaze dropped to his lap, and she huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh had there been any humor behind it. She straightened, smoothing her hands over her hair and down the front of her shirt.
He didn’t miss how she lingered over her breasts a moment too long, and his whole oxygen intake system stalled out. He remembered how sensitive her nipples were, how they had peaked at the slightest caress of his tongue and how her back had arched toward him. She’d begged for more once. If he got his mouth on her now, he could make her beg again.
No.
Fuck, what was he thinking?
He hit the blinker too hard, turned right, and stopped at the only place he saw—a truck stop that offered everything from a gas station to a restaurant. He pulled up to one of the pumps and lunged over as she reached for the door again. With a quick squeeze of his hand, the cuff dangling from her wrist snicked closed around the door’s assist handle.
“Don’t move.”
She hissed and yanked on the cuff. “I hate you.”
“Good. Means I’m doing something right.”
“What’s to stop me from rolling down the window and screaming rape?”
“I’ll tell everyone you’re my insane cousin and I’m having you committed. And the way you look right now, vixen…” He tugged on a strand of her hair, which still stood up in every direction. “They’ll believe me.”
As he pushed open his door and slid out, he heard her mutter, “Fuckhead.”
Genuinely amused, he leaned down to peer back inside. “C’mon, I know you have a vocabulary that puts my Navy buddies to shame. You can do better than that.”
She whirled in her seat as much as she was able and glared at him. “You’re a ball-less, piss-sucking, colon-licking, fuckwit douchecanoe twatwaffle!”
“There you go.” He grinned and shut the door on her cry of frustration.
Twatwaffle?
He snorted a laugh and grabbed a credit card out of his wallet, but he discovered a piece of paper over the card reader with the words “out of order—pay inside only” printed on it. He’d have to pull forward to the next pump, because there was no way in hell he was leaving Sage in the car by herself. She’d probably try chewing off her arm.
He reached for the door again but stopped when he spotted another out of order paper stuck on the next pump’s card reader. And another across the way. All of them were out.
Figured he’d choose the one backwater truck stop with broken pumps.
Swearing under his breath, he glanced toward the building. The front was all glass, so he’d never be out of sight of the car. Plus, he could grab some snacks while he was in there. He hadn’t realized he was hungry until he spotted a display of potato chips through the window, right by the register, and his stomach gave a grumble of protest against his unintentional fast. He hadn’t eaten anything all day except for a package of peanuts on the plane from DC to New Orleans, and if he was going to be driving all night, he’d need some food. And caffeine.
He yanked open the door and leaned inside. “I have to go in. Do. Not. Move. If you try anything, I will hunt you down, and you will not like the consequences. Understand?”
She glowered at him, which he figured was the best answer he was going to get.