Page 10 of Outlaw
Sabrina
Ijerk back into awareness. The hangover from hell is banging at my temples, and a ridiculous amount of wind is gusting across the sides of my face and back of my neck. Except I’m warm, and rumbling vibrations are coming from under my backside. And what is that rugged, musky, masculine scent over my nose? Confused, I flutter my eyes open. My face is nestled in a neck I don’t recognize until I look lower and see the black muscle shirt. A little lower still, and I realize I’m sitting facing said guy, with my legs wrapped around his waist, my torso practically molded to his body, and his chiseled arms on either side of me. On his bike. Which is speeding along what looks like the I-15 interstate.
Oh shit.
No.
I wasnotjust kidnapped by the guy on the elevator.
Holy crap.
Iwas.
I tilt my head up to check his face and see if I’m right about who I’m with, only to end up staring into the blue-eyed abyss of the badass I was trying to avoid on the elevator. A scream nearly leaves me hoarse, but sexy pants danger dude doesn’t stop the bike. He just tilts his head down, raises one eyebrow and gives me a smirk.
“Glad to see you’re awake,” he booms out over the deafening sounds of the bike’s engine plus the wind on the open road. His voice rises in gruff timbers that send a trail of goosebumps up and down my flesh. “You’ve been out for a while. I kinda liked the company, to be honest. Well, my dick sure enjoyed it.”
“Pull. Over. Right. Now!” I scream into his face, because our lips are a few inches apart, given that I’m straddling his lap. I guess I should be grateful that he took the time to buckle a helmet on my head. “You can’t just kidnap me!”
“You got me confused with the other guys. The ones I took you away from just now. They shot that nasty tranquilizer dart in your tight, round ass. Remember them? They’re the men who were trying to kidnap you.”
“And why am I on your bike?”
“I helped you get away. Hush. It’s hard to talk with all this noise.”
He turns abruptly as I grope for his shoulders and grip his waist with my thighs with all the strength I could muster. How in the hell did he manage to keep me on his bike like this while I was unconscious? And did he just make that deep turn on the last corner on purpose?
Heat flares beneath my cheeks. I grit my teeth and prepare to give him another piece of my mind. “Look, whatever you want, you’re not going to get it from me. Just drop me off at a pay phone, and I can make it from there if you’re worried about saving gas. You can’t take me against my will like some…some hostage.”
Our eyes lock as his infuriating grin grows wider, framed by the beginnings of dark stubble.
“You’re not exactly in a position to be making demands, honey. Now stop talking and let me drive.”
The bike speeds up, and I squeal, resisting my instinct to bury my head into his neck again. This thug has no idea who he’s dealing with. If it’s money he wants, or extra leverage by using me for some kind of arms deal transaction, he’ll be sorely disappointed. I’ll make my getaway and that would be the end of it. I’ve been backed into a corner before, and with characters much worse than this biker.
His bike slows down, and as the stranger coasts his motorcycle, our destination in the middle of the desert comes into view when he makes a full stop and leans the bike on its kickstand. As the vibrations die down, I can still feel them thrumming against my skin. Or maybe it’s the attraction that takes over me when his rough fingers trace beneath my chin. I swallow hard just as he unbuckles my helmet and eases it off.
“The way I see it, you were nearly hijacked by a squad of goons who know where you live. Going home isn’t your best bet.”
“Yet coming here, wherever here is, is a better alternative?”
“Exactly. But try not to make me second guess my decision to help you back there.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not coming with you. I don’t even know who you are!”
“Listen, you feisty minx. You’re with me until I figure out who can keep you safe.”
“I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help.”
“There’s strength in numbers. I’ve got numbers, Sabrina.”
“If you didn’t intentionally kidnap me, how do you know my name?”
“I picked up your purse. It’s behind us in the seat compartment. What do you prefer that I call you? Sabrina? Miss Temple? Your highness?”
Shit.
He may not have kidnapped me, but he must know who I’m now.
