Full Throttle Yearning (10 page)

His cell phone began to ring softly, a harsh sound interrupting the kiss, pushing them apart as he said, “Sorry. I’d better get this.” His expression held a world of regret, but within seconds he was all business, listening intently to the caller.

Roxie’s arms fell to her sides and she moved away to give him some privacy. The kiss they had shared had been exhilarating and left her body on fire for more of his touch. It was a promise of things to come…so why did she feel uneasiness weave through her?

Waiting for Charlie, she strolled to a wooden slat bench outside the bakery, surprised that he trailed behind her. His eyes darted every which way and the nonchalance with which he’d kissed her was gone. Even before he terminated the call she sensed that something was very wrong. Her breath hitched in her throat. She clenched her fists into tight balls, ready for anything.

Charlie’s lips set in a grimace. He glanced away before his gaze returned to her face. “I don’t know how he did it,” he said slowly, each word spoken with precision. “Rowter escaped.”

“No!” was all Roxie managed. The big man had escaped even though he’d been screaming in pain when Charlie and she had left the diner?

“That means that you have no choice but to come with me. Eddie knows of several safe houses where he believes Rowter won’t find you.”

That meant being on the run again. Roxie pulled herself together. “I refuse to hide. I’m going back to work until this blows over.” What other option did she have? She rose and turned in the direction of the diner.
That is if Gerry wants me back. I’m clearly a danger to his employees.

Charlie raked a hand through his hair. “You can’t do that, Roxie. That’s the first place he’ll look.” He moistened his lower lip. “I’m not giving you any choice.”

“You sound just like my father. He gives orders and I march,” she blurted out wildly. No way she would let Charlie or her father determine how she lived her life. She could handle herself. Hadn’t she done a good job so far?

Charlie’s shoulders straightened into rigid lines. “This isn’t open for discussion, Roxie. I promise your father won’t find out where you are.” He stepped forward, all strength and virility. “One thing I don’t want is to send you back to him in a body bag because you were too stubborn to accept help.”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Roxie protested.
Except losing the freedom to choose.

A nondescript sedan slid to a smooth stop at the curb. “Do yourself a favor, Roxie.” Charlie’s smooth tone brooked no dissent, and he reached out and lightly grasped her forearm. “Stay alive. If you’re dead, you’re not free.”

Before she could resist, he had opened the car’s back door and pushed her inside. He did have a point. Death would rob her of freedom. Reluctantly, she slid across the seat to make room for Charlie. His door had barely closed with a sharp snap before the driver stepped on the gas and raced away from the diner.

Charlie noted that Roxie hadn’t fully slid across the seat. Their thighs were in hot contact with each other through his jeans and her dress, which left his body raging for more of her. However, he had to handle her carefully, since he didn’t know her full story. Perhaps there was a reason why freedom was such an issue for her, where it wouldn’t have been with someone else.

“How could Rowter be on the move so quickly?” she whispered, backhanding her forehead.

Charlie was happy to answer. “There’s a product on the market, a wipe that will strip Pepper Spray from the skin and neutralize the burning in the eyes. I bet he was carrying that for an emergency.”

“I didn’t know that.” Roxie rubbed her throat delicately.

“You wouldn’t have to unless you were in law enforcement or a criminal.”

“Yesterday when I was crossing the street, was the driver in the semi Rowter?” She swallowed hard, possibly remembering her close encounter with the eighteen-wheeler.

“No, I don’t believe so. He was driving far too quickly and I think he was trying to miss you.” Changing the subject, and hoping she’d reply, he asked tenderly, “Did your father hurt you?”

I certainly understand if she’s angry with me. I would be too if a guy came along and told me someone was trying to kill me. Then when I wanted to stand up and fight, he wouldn’t let me.

She faced away from him, watching downtown LA slip into the distance as the driver, Hector Torres, whom Kyle had informed him could be trusted to the death, drove. In front of the vehicle, the roadway became a mirage in the deadly heat.

Roxie shook her head in response.

Charlie persisted. “What did he do to you that you’ve squirreled yourself away?”

She swept back a stray lock of hair from her ear before she faced him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Sunlight caught her in its cruel glare as the car travelled into the shadow of an overpass. Her lips trembled.

Roxie appeared so forlorn. Did he dare to take her in his arms and comfort her the best he could? “You’re distraught,” he said softly over the hum of the car’s engine. “It’s been quite a day already with all that’s gone on.” He didn’t want to remind her of the truck heading toward them, Rowter intent on killing them. The memory was enough to frighten anyone, let alone a sensitive woman like Roxie.

Despite himself, he took her into his arms, and was surprised when she didn’t battle him but sank her head against his left shoulder.

“He didn’t hurt me physically but I always felt restricted. There were always bodyguards around, watching my every move and reporting back to him. On my own, I can do anything I want.” She ended on a small laugh, then without raising her head she whispered, “Where are we going? You owe me that much.”

He repressed a sigh. “Oxnard, up the coast. Rowter won’t find you there and the cops will have a chance to find him while I keep you safe.”

She laughed softly. “That’s the story of my life. Let someone else do the work.”

Her small hand edged down the ridge of his spine in a feathery caress that sent a spark into his groin. It reignited the raging fire he’d tried to quell since he’d heard that Rowter was on the loose again. Her fingers reached erotically between his shirt and belt toward the crack of his ass. He shivered. “Roxie,” he began, but she cut him off with her musical voice.

“Shh, Charlie. I just want to touch you. It makes me feel better.”

“Me too,” he agreed, stroking the back of her head and her silky hair under the chignon. “Let your hair down for me?” he pleaded huskily. His penis was rock hard again, but then Roxie’s mere presence aroused him. What was it about her that fascinated him in a way no other woman ever had? Expectantly, his hands settled on her shoulders.

Intrigued, he watched her downcast eyes as she pulled the pins from the chignon and her hair tumbled down over her shoulders and her bodice. She flashed him a smile filled with promise.

Then he remembered the dark angel who’d stolen his parking space the morning before. How she’d climbed onto the bike in her leather outfit and her ass had done him in, leaving him wanting more and unable to think of anything else. Biker chicks were hot and LA was more than he’d bargained for—especially now that Roxie was with him.

The car raced in the diamond lane now. A few vehicles surrounded them but the traffic wasn’t bumper to bumper as it so often was at rush hour.

“Like this?” Roxie asked coquettishly. Her gaze rested fully on his, inquiring, playing with his libido. Her hands stayed still in her lap.

“Like that,” he agreed, taking her wrist and lifting her fingers to his mouth. One by one, he kissed the pads with delicate brushes of his lips. Roxie quivered.

Canting her head toward the driver, she asked in a soft whisper, “Can he hear us?”

Her trembling had increased remarkably. Did she want him so much that she was willing to do him in a public place, much like in his crazy fantasy? “That’s one of the things that gave you away,” he told her with a short laugh. “You can’t hide your blue blood no matter what you do. It’s too ingrained in you.”

Her eyes smiled now too. The angel had mated with the devil and come out to tease him into his version of a pleasurable inferno.

Roxie didn’t notice the car moving forward. She had eyes for nothing else but Charlie. Her whole body was responding to his nearness, and now they were out of immediate danger she felt relief wash over her. Along with yearning for the man whom she’d eat up if given the chance.

“You mentioned a sixty-nine,” she whispered with a naughty wink. “Will we still have the opportunity?”

Charlie moaned. His eyes flicked toward the driver and back to Roxie. “You’re hot,” he choked out, his eyes bulging, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“Why don’t you cool me down a little?” she offered, her voice slick with meaning. His musky scent was heady and tempting. She raised her torso a fraction of an inch and lifted her dress up her thighs.

He rasped out a breath. “I want to treat you like a princess,” he managed as his hand strayed to the top of her warm thigh.

She shrugged. “Treat me any way you want later. For now, give me what I want.” Grasping his fingers, she edged them up to the hip of her cotton panties.

“Oh God, Roxie. I’m burning up,” he murmured close to her earlobe. His breath was hot against her left cheek.

She’d never been so forward with a man before and was immensely enjoying Charlie’s reaction. She gave him a wicked smile and traced the outline of his bulging erection through his jeans with the pad of her index finger. He glanced away at the Pacific Ocean with half-closed eyes, puffing small breaths, perhaps to steady his nerves. A bright green highway sign caught her eye. Thousand Oaks.

“Have you ever made out in a car before?” she asked, ramping up the smile to mega-watts.

His lips parted but no sound came. Instead he shook his head.

Poor baby. He’s in for the ride of his life. As a matter of fact, I’ve never felt so raunchy, so inventive before. I want to give Charlie the best orgasm he’s ever had, just quietly, in the back seat of a car hurrying to safety. Perhaps the driver will get a hard-on too.

“What do you feel?” she asked as his eyes narrowed into slits and he lowered his mouth to her neck. His lips nuzzled a trail of heated passion to her throat.

“What do you want me to do with my fingers?” His voice was incredibly husky and sexy.

She snorted. “Pleasure me.”

“Do you mean fuck you?” He spoke softly, his head bent.

“Yes.” Was Charlie examining her breasts as she gasped tiny breaths of anticipation?

She parted her legs enough to allow his hand to edge between her tremulous thighs.

“Have
you
ever made out in the back seat of a car before? While someone is driving?” This time his tone was laced with wry humor.

She shook her head but her mind was preoccupied with sensual images of what he was doing. His strong fingers sliding between her warm skin and the cotton of her panties. His breath rasping as he sought out her wet folds, and the heady moment of discovery. She clutched at the fabric of his shirt, tugging, pulling, yearning for the orgasm that would blow her apart. But he didn’t touch her throbbing clit.

Charlie leaned her back the slightest amount and slid one digit into her wet channel. She gasped in mixed shock and pleasure, closed her eyes, and emotion hurtled through her. Feminine power, anticipation, relief and a trickle of joy she’d never known before.

“We’re almost there,” Hector intervened with a strong Hispanic accent. It was the first time she’d heard him speak.

I’m almost there too.

Charlie’s finger plunged in and out of her pussy with a ferocity that initially frightened her, before she realized he wanted her to climax quickly, possibly so as not to be too obvious about their actions.

Her bones fused and she became a mass of tight muscles and quivering flesh. “Oh yes,” she exhaled on a moaning sigh. Mindlessly, she plucked at his shirt.

“Keep going, baby,” Charlie urged, his voice so soft against her ear that she barely heard him. “Come for me.”

The combination of his words and the escalating tension in her body was all she needed for a mind-blowing orgasm. She slammed her head against his chest, took a deep breath of his unique blend of lemon and masculine scents and muffled her cry of delight in his shirt.

Charlie stroked her nape with a slow, gentle caress. “I bet that felt good.” Once again his voice was tender, his words intended for her ears only.