Page 63 of Saving the Last Heir
That tore us from our momentary bliss.
“Oh, shit,” I hissed, “we have to get out of here.”
He smirked at me. “You drove.”
“Come on!” I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door.
The crowd parted to let us by and we burst out of the front door, leaving Dusty where he lay, still snoring in the guacamole. By the time our feet hit the pavement, we were both laughing. Even with the distant sound of sirens approaching, I was giggling like a little kid as we climbed into my Jeep.
“Hit the gas,” Jackson said. “If they get too close, I’ll fly us out of here.”
“Sure thing.” I shoved the car into first and slammed the gas.
The tires spun, then bounced, jostling the car, and finally caught, sending a cloud of smoke and a screech of burning rubber into the night. When the traction finally kicked in, we shot out of the parking lot like a bullet from a gun, both of us still laughing like maniacs.
“That was so stupid,” Jackson said, wiping tears of laughter from his face. “I’m sorry.”
“Absolutely not. You did what I wanted to do. Dusty deserved that.”
He glanced over his shoulder, looking through the back window.
“I know,” he said. “I hate you’ll probably never get to go back there. That lady sounded pissed.”
I snorted a laugh and waved him off. “Juan’s niece has always had a stick up her ass. I’ll let Juan know what happened, and we’ll be good. Dad and I have always given him a discount on his oil changes.”
“Uh…we didn’t pay either,” Jackson said.
That sent us both into another gale of laughter.
“I’ll stop by sometime next week and pay the tab,” I said, still having a hard time controlling myself, my eyes blurry from tears.
When I was mostly recovered, I glanced over and found Jackson staring at me. He wasn’t laughing anymore. The smile on his lips was hungry and filled with blatant desire. In fact, I’dneverbeen looked at that way. It was a new and exciting thing that filled me with a sudden and explosive craving. A craving forhim.
“I want you,” he said, his voice low, deep, and confident.
Three words. That was all it took to turn me into jelly. My hands and fingers tingled, and butterflies roared like a tornado in my stomach. Heat pulsed between my legs, and I had a hard time keeping track of the road.
“Okay,” I said.
Okay?I screamed at myself.Really? That’s the best you can do, Shyanne?
Determined to do better, I steadied myself and reached over, running my hand down his thigh, moving achingly close to his crotch. I cursed having to drive the goddamn car. I’d rather have given him my full attention.
“And what are you going to do with me?” I said, keeping my voice sultry and sexy.
That’s better,I told myself.
Jackson unclipped his seat belt and leaned over, putting his lips to my ear. “I’d rather show you.”
My foot clamped down on the pedal, sending us flying down the road toward my house.
“Would you like that?” he whispered.
“Uh huh,” I murmured as I turned onto my street.
The house Dad and I shared was bigger than it had been when I’d grown up. When I’d turned twenty—before our financial hardships had begun—Dad had hired a contractor to expand the back side of the house, adding a small kitchenette, a tiny living room, and a bigger bedroom. There’d been a wall put up and a single door to move from one side of the house to the other. He’d basically created an apartment for me, saying I deserved my privacy and a place to call my own. It was great and helped save money on rent, but…well…there was still only a wall between us. If this was going the way it appeared it was, thingsmightget loud. Actually? Ireallyhoped they would.
Glancing at the clock on my dash, I realized it wasn’t actually that late yet. I crossed my fingers, hoping he was still at his friend’s house, maybe having beers and watching a baseball game.
