Page 99 of Headed for Home

“You’ll let me be a passenger princess in my own vehicle?” Her hand flutters to her chest. “Oh, my.”

I open her door, hoist her onto the seat, buckle her in, and snatch the fob from her loose grip. In that order. She blinks at me. I kiss the shock on her parted lips.

“Sit tight, babe.”

Rubber soles skid on cement in my rush around the hood. Cassidy’s smile greets me as I slide behind the wheel and jab the key into the ignition. My gaze bounces between her and our surroundings while I reverse onto the street.

There’s no sound from the radio until something seems to connect. A raspy voice picks up wherever it left off. My eyes bulge when the context becomes clear.

I give myself an anticipatory stroke.

She immediately advances a step in response.

I cock an eyebrow. “No, pretty girl. Get on your knees for me and crawl.”

Whitney lowers herself, holding my stare. She leans forward, palms flat on my floor, and my cock jerks—

Cassidy smacks the knob, cutting off the scene. “That’s enough of that.”

“I don’t think so.” My finger jabs the button and the story continues.

—at her willing compliance. Her breasts point down, those red tips tight, and that little bit of stomach she’s so worried about looks like an enticing handful, creating a delicious crease where it meets her curved hip. If only she knew how badly I want to lick her there, to trace her insecurities with my tongue.

“Slowly,” I demand as she starts to crawl.

“Is this good?” Her voice is breathless yet strong. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

“You look like a fucking goddess.”

My foot slips off the gas pedal and I swerve. “Holy shit, this might be kinkier than the last book.”

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” she grumbles.

A sideways glance exposes her hurried methods to end the audio on her phone. My palm glides across the steering wheel, imagining her soft skin rather than leather. It’s no wonder she reads these novels. I’m harder than steel and ready for the climax.

“Beauty, beauty, beauty,” I chide. “My naughty cowgirl. Have you no restraint?”

“Says the man who gave me a shirt broadcasting that I want to ride him.” She snorts, aiming for nonchalance but the flush racing up her neck betrays her.

“That’s straight facts. You were the one listening to an erotic scene on the way to my house. No wonder you were soaked.” The road curves as we approach Main Street.

“Oh, puh-lease. Spicy romance helps me—”

“Unwind,” I finish for her. “It’s a guilty pleasure.”

She blinks. “Your ability to remember the tiniest details is uncanny.”

“Mhmm, are you surprised? The subject matter is very… titillating.” My brows waggle. “What’s the title?”

Cassidy points to the display where it’s listed on pause. “Surrender by A.M. Wilson.”

“Do you want a copy in print? I could read to you.” My cock is ready to punch through denim at the thought.

“I wouldn’t survive that.” Her complexion resembles a tomato. “You’re already too much for me. I’m constantly on edge because of you, not a steamy scene. Accept the credit you deserve, trouble.”

After taking a sharp right, I rest my palm on her thigh. My thumb drifts along a freckle. “But it’s suggestive inspiration. What happens next?”

Cassidy gulps, eyes lowered to where I’m touching her bare skin. “I’m not sure.”

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