Page 83 of Truck Stop Tempest

I stopped in my tracks and admired the brooding man, then mimicked his pose, crossing my arms. The pull between us was a force of nature, and my legs strained to stay in place.

I studied him, studying me. The man was not happy, which I assumed was because I’d broken our date. But it was not my job to make him happy. And what a great feeling to let that burden go.

Neither of us moved for what seemed an eternity. Just as I was ready to crack, Tito shook his head, scrubbed a hand over his face, and came my way, amped like a fighter about to take the ring. I stood my ground. My body trembled in fear or anticipation…I wasn’t sure.

Before he reached the halfway point between us, I dropped my arms and sprinted his way. A puppet to her master, at the mercy of invisible strings. A smile cracked his stoic face, and I launched myself against that warm, inviting chest, circled my arms around his thick neck, and before he could take control, I smashed my mouth to his, curled my legs around his waist, and let him know just how much I’d missed him.

Hell, I’d missed her. It’d only been eight hours. Eight goddamn, miserable hours.

The girl was lighter than shit, but when she threw herself at me with wrecking-ball force, my world righted itself. When she kissed me? Sweet Jesus. Hands, lips, tits, and moans. I forgot why I’d come.

I managed to get us back to my car and prop her ass on the hood.

She smelled like bleach and French fries. Tasted like minty lip balm. Damn, I wanted to ravage and dirty her, clean her up, then start all over again. I broke the lip-lock, then moved down to her ear, her neck, licking, biting, and marking that salty skin. Her fingers curled into my hair, pulling tight.

I grabbed her hips, yanking her harder against me, grinding my erection against that perfect spot between her legs. A ridiculous, sexy noise rose from her throat, setting me on fire.

“In the car, now. Or I’m taking you right here for the world to see.”

Tuuli leaned back on her arms, chest heaving, lips swollen, taking me in—my eyes, my scar, my chest. When she raised her gaze again to mine, she mumbled, “Yeah, hell, why not?” and pushed me away.

That damn little bunny opened my car door, crawled behind the passenger seat, kicked off her shoes, then shimmied out of her khakis.

Fuck. Yes. I wiped the moisture off my mouth with the back of my hand.

The back seat of my Mustang was cramped as hell, but I managed to sit and work my jeans down my hips. The second my cock sprang free, that feisty little bunny straddled me. She grabbed the back of the seat, lifted her ass, and slid that slick, tight pussy down the length of me.

“Tuuli. Shit. God, I missed you today.”

She bit my neck, rocking her hips.

“Ah. Fuck.”

Frenzied and furious, she rode me, like we were running out of time, like if we stopped, the world would end. And damn, right then, the world could’ve imploded, and I wouldn’t have noticed. She was Heaven and Hell, all rolled into one tempestuous little package. Writhing, moaning, fucking, taking what she wanted, mindless to the fact I was trying to keep up, clueless to the damage she was doing, breaking me from the inside out.

Her tits bounced beneath her shirt. I wanted them. But there was no time, no space to rid her of her clothes, and all I could do was curl my fingers into her bare ass and take her assault. I laid my head back and watched my girl chase her pleasure. Eyes closed, face pink, lips swollen and parted. We were as close as two people could be, but Tuuli was gone, lost in her head, in her self-indulgence. So consumed in her own pleasure, I may as well have not existed. She was using me, and fuck that hurt.

Despite my wounded ego, I was proud. My goddamn little bunny wasn’t a bunny at all. She was a beast.

She slammed her hands to the ceiling, pushing her body harder against me, rocking her hips, finding the friction she needed. Her head fell back, and she cried, “Oh, God. Shit, shit, shit.” The force of her orgasm hit hard, her body curling forward, her thighs slamming against my hips, her core squeezing my cock in tight pulses.

Her neck was exposed. I buried my face there, shouting profanities through my own release.

I clung to her, catching my breath until she pushed me back against the seat and rested her ass on my thighs.

Our eyes locked, neither of us speaking. We breathed, still connected, as close as two people could be, but I’d never felt such distance.

“You broke our date,” I growled.

“I had to.”

“Why?”

Stormy eyes met mine. A tear slipped free. “What did you do in New York? Who were you?”

A dull ache rose in my chest. “Tuuli. Not now. Please.”

“When, Tito?”

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