Page 32 of Hot for Hostage

A shrill laugh bubbled out of me at how unconcerned he sounded. “Ignorethat? Not possible.”

It was like playing a game of Whac-A-Mole with one very persistent mole.

“Then don’t ignore it.” The amusement dripping from his tone made my jaw drop.

Another pothole had me almost airborne, but Davian’s grip tightened, and I only rose an inch before slamming back down against his hardness.

But no amount of whacking could put that mole back in his hole.

I sucked in a sharp breath. And I had zero excuses for what happened next. None. But I’d landed at a new angle, and the heat of him against my center—along with how perfectly we lined up down there—had my hips instinctively circling against him in an impromptu lap dance.

We both froze, and I wanted to die of mortification.

Did I justgrindon my hostage’s lap?

Kill me now.

grind on me

. . .

Sadie

Sadie’s Guide toHostage-TakingBeing Taken HostageForming a Partnership with Your Hostage, Tip #11: Ignore that last tip. Taxis are your friend.

Even Davian didn’t seem to know how to react to me grinding against him, and the longest five seconds of my life passed before his lips brushed my ear—sending a flicker of heat through me.

“Do it again,” he said, and a shiver rolled down my spine at the command.

Face flaming, I didnotdo it again. He couldn’t be serious. Even with Bear still distracted by the shoe and the men up front keeping their gazes forward, this was completely inappropriate.

And crazy.

“That was an accident,” I whispered, lying through my teeth. “I slipped.”

“Bullshit.” His lips caressed the skin behind my ear with a kiss that went straight to my center. “Do it again, Sadie.”

Holy cupcake, the way he said my name…

It wasn’t fair. Why did Davian’s commanding tone make my skin so hot it felt like I would burst into flames? He had to be joking, though. Right? He didn’tactuallywant me to grind on his lap while we were riding in a car with his friends and Bear.

That’d be insane.

But the prominent bulge in Davian’s pants convinced me otherwise. Or maybe it brainwashed me. Whatever the reason, my inhibitions lowered until I wasn’t sure I’d had any in the first place.

I experimentally grinded again, and his grip grew impossibly tighter.

Any embarrassment slid away, and my hips repeated the discreet motion. Heat pooled low in my belly, and a glance up front showed the men were oblivious. Bear was still distracted by Davian’s shoe.

Nobody noticed what we were doing, and that sent a whole new sort of thrill through me.

Davian shifted to get a better angle, and he moved me to straddle his thigh. It pushed my center against the firm muscle there, and each circle of my hips against him went straight to my?—

“Ohgod,” I breathed, clutching the handle above the window.

Davian hit a button on the door, which made a dark screen divider rise between us and the two men in front.

Convenient.

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