Page 2 of Hitch
She turns over her shoulder, her eyes lit up with the headlights, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. She puts out her thumb, asking for a ride.
I pull over in front of her. This way, she’s got a chance to listen to her gut instincts and do the right thing by going in the opposite direction. She doesn’t need to get into a truck with a man like me. Anyone with half of a brain would know better than that.
But the little devil comes forward, opening the passenger door.
The heat of her sex swarms me. A hint of body odor—don’t blame her, she’s probably been hiking a while—and a whole lot of vanilla, like she bathes in ice cream. A hint of musk on her lips.
My musk.
I know it’s her.
I pull back onto the road.
“Where you heading?” I ask.
“Stockton.”
After that, it’s silent for a while. The blue tarp flaps in the back of the truck, the ropes binding it down. I don’t bother with the radio; with a woman like her next to me, I don’t need anything else messing with my heart rate. Her legs spread out on the seat, her thighs thick and decadent, and she tips to the side, her cleavage pushing against her arm, barely contained by her black tank top. The seam of her shorts pinches right in the middle of that valley between her thighs, giving away all the angles that show exactly how she’s made down there. I lick my lips.
She meets my gaze. Her brown eyes are filled with burning wood, drawing me closer to her fire. Asking if I like what I see.
“What’s in Stockton?” I ask.
“A strip club.”
Double Take, the only joint like that for miles. I know the owner. The same man who told me about the glory hole.
“Some people might say you’d be getting into trouble going on that way,” I say. “You stay away from places like that. Wouldn’t want to see you end up in handcuffs.”
“Maybe I’m done with men telling me what to do,” she says.
My jaw unhinges for a second, but then I can’t help it: I chuckle. Didn’t expect a phrase so defiant from her, especially directed toward me. She’s got some fight in her; I’ll give her that. But the little devil doesn’t know what I’ve done tonight. I wouldn’t mind putting another body in the back of my truck, especially one as pretty as hers.
“Then why do it?” I ask.
The air puffs through her cheeks like she’s angry that I’m even questioning her.
“Why not?” she finally says. “No one’s tying me down anymore.”
“Ah,” I say. “So it’s an ex. Typical, ain’t it? Must be one unlucky son of a bitch.”
“This has nothing to do with any piece of shit ex.”
“You think I’m stupid?” I ask. She raises a brow at me, and I smirk. “A woman like you don’t find herself on the side of the road, taking rides from strangers,unlessshe’s got an agenda. You got another plan under all that frustration. I can see it in your eyes.”
For a moment, she focuses on the road, the headlights shining on those yellow stripes like they’re made of the sun. Cornfields stretch up on either side of us, rustling from the speed of the truck.
“Now tell me,” I drawl, “what did he do to lose someone as good asyou?”
Her bright red lips press into a faint side-smile, pleased with the unexpected compliment. My bulge fills with blood, thinking of those red lips wrapped around me all over again. Does she know that she sucked me off? That Iknowit’s her?
The pleasure fades from her expression.
“He said I’d be homeless without him,” she says under her breath. “That I can’t make it on my own. That I have no skills.” She crosses her arms. “But he’s the one with no skills.”
“That so?”
“I had to fake iteverytime.”
