Page 49 of Driven by Desire

“Fuck you!” she snapped hoarsely, losing her temper and stomping her bare foot in the hot dirt beside the car.

His face swam in front of her. The grinning skull tattooed over his mouth looked more frightening than the first time she met him when he cornered her in the dark as she was leaving work. He’d threatened to slit her throat if she didn't immediately take him to her garage and hand over his car.

Shank bent down in front of her, reached under her skirt, took hold of the loose waist of her sweatpants and wrenched them down her legs. She stumbled and would have fallen, but he leaned her against his warm, broad shoulder. She braced her hand against his back while he forced her to step out of her pants. He looked up at her and slid his hand back up her leg, curving it around her bare thigh. His fingers bit deep into the smooth, round globe of her ass. She froze against him, desperately hoping his exploration would go no further.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “No panties.”

She deeply regretted her choice not to wear underwear that morning. If she got out of this alive, she was never again skipping underwear in case she got kidnapped out of her own home again. Holy crap, was that a tattoo of a sea turtle on his shoulder? Did Cilia know? Cilia would probably kill Shank for her before Soloman could do the job. Riley reached out to smack the offensive little jerk, but it started running around Shank’s body. She chased after it with her fingers.

“Okay, angel-face, I think those pills are working,” Shank said with a grin when she crawled over his shoulder and shoved her arm down his back, mumbling about a tattoo, while threatening to send her mother after him.

He stood with her over his shoulder and smoothed the floating material of the dress over her thighs. Leaving the scraps of her discarded clothes in the dirt, he opened the passenger side of his car and dumped her in the back seat. They took off toward the border with an extremely high Riley in the backseat. One moment she couldn't keep her hands to herself and would run them over his head and shoulders, drawing groans of appreciation from him, and then she’d remember where she was and that she was a victim and start freaking out.

They made it across the border with very little difficulty. Shank had bribed his usual border guard and given him a heads up. Riley slumped sleepily in her seat during the extremely brief interview. She didn’t have to say a word. Then they were in Tijuana, Mexico and Shank pulled up to the first church he saw.

Riley’s eyes went wide and met Shank’s in the rearview mirror. His shone with a maniacal, possessive fever. She shrank back into the leather seat.

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