WILD RIDE by Juliette Jones Page A

the Texas highway, thumbing my way to the next town.  Then again, his
Texan chivalry might kick in.  Let me drive you down to the bus depot in my
shiny red Mustang.  Ticket to Austin’s on me, sweetheart, since it’ll barely
make a dent in this big-ass roll of Ben Franklins I’ve got stuffed down my
pants.
    Oh,
hell.  Absolutely avoid all thoughts of every big thing stuffed down his pants.  Immediately.
    “How’d
you sleep?” he asked, pulling a second chair closer to where he sat.  He patted
it.  A friendly gesture.  Inviting.  Chitchat and coffee before eviction was
gentlemanly.
    “Very
deeply.”
    His
mouth quirked at one corner.  I wasn’t sure why this might have been funny to
him.  My hand ghosted to my hair and I realized only then that I might have
checked my look in the mirror before confronting them.  Or him, as it turned
out.
    “I
like it,” he said, and that quirk at the side of his mouth was downright
wicked.  “Coffee?”  He’d already placed an extra mug on the table, next to the
coffee pot and his own cup.  Again, the gentlemanly thing to do.
    “Sure. 
Thanks.”
    He
poured me a cup and held it out to me.
    “How’re
you feeling?” he said, and I sat down in the chair next to him.  The sheet slid
from my legs and I adjusted it, covering my thighs to my knees.  I wasn’t sure
why I felt all demure this morning.  He’d already seen, touched, tasted and
penetrated me several times over.  Weirdly, I felt triumphant at the thought. 
Without the buffer alcohol provided, Nate Walker was even more impressive, if
such a thing was possible.  There was a ferocious alpha quality to him that, if
I’d happened to meet him in a bar or at a party, would have intimidated me like
crazy.  Quarterback material for sure.  His look was sort of fighter pilot
meets CEO.
    “A
little sore.  And pretty damn fine,” I couldn’t help admitting.  I’d been
blatantly honest with him, and both of them, all the way through so far, and I
figured I’d just stick to that paradigm.  He was too perceptive to play games
with anyway.  We barely knew each other but we were already way past pretenses. 
In a way, this was liberating.  And, oddly, connective.  I was both meeting him
for the first time and greeting him as a lover who’d shared more searingly intimate
moments with me than any other person on the entire face of the planet.  Cal’s
shortcomings were too numerous to list, now that I knew better.  Even Riley
hadn’t touched me the way Nate had.  As deeply and … thoroughly.  Twice. 
And that thing he did with his mouth and his tongue, too, my God.   “I guess
I slept in a little.”
    “You
were tired.”
    “Yeah,”
I agreed.  “Big day.”
    My
eyes met his through the reflective barrier of his sunglasses, and he smiled. 
An unassuming smile.  Reserved, even.  And that little note of sincerity and of
quiet sensitivity when he could have been smug or self-satisfied was …
unexpected.  My stomach did a weird little flip.  I liked the shape of his
teeth, too: square and straight.  And white, but not that eerie, manufactured
white that seemed to be all the rage on TV.  A clean, natural-looking white.  He
couldn’t have been anything other than American.
    “Where’s
Riley?”
    Nate’s
smile faded at the question and I almost regretted asking it.  “He’s meeting
with some clients today.”
    “Right.” 
He continued watching me as I took another sip of my coffee.  “And you?  You
didn’t have to meet with the clients, too?”  From memory, that had been their
plan, but I might have been wrong about that.
    “I
decided to sit this one out.  We’ll meet up with them for drinks tonight.  And
dinner.”
    We’ll.  
I pushed that little glimmer of hope right back down into my soul where it
belonged.
    “I
wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said.  Again, unexpected.  That edge of
protectiveness that made my spirit want to unfurl, to open up and reach