Revving Her Up(5)

Typical Southern guy thing.

She stepped forward, eager to get going. Then she saw the seat. Unlike the tow truck’s lower bench, this one was a good two and a half feet off the ground. How the hell did women get into these trucks? Her skirt was too narrow for her to raise her leg that far, and she risked flashing her thigh-highs and thong to the world if she hiked it up.

She took a breath. If she could navigate the New York City subway in four-inch heels and a suit, she damned well could figure out how to get into this truck. It took some planning, that’s all. She put her purse on the seat, placed one hand next to it and contemplated her course of action. Maybe with a little hop, she could—

“May I?”

Sarah whirled around. Cole had closed the distance between them, standing well within the personal space a New Yorker wouldn’t breach even in a rush-hour subway car. She inhaled the scent of something slightly spicy and altogether male. Close up the faint dusting of stubble on his chin reminded her of fine sandpaper.

Without waiting for an answer his large hands grabbed her hips. His fingers met at the small of her back. A frisson of arousal went through her and she gasped, tipping forward and grasping Cole’s arms for balance.

His biceps hardened to rock under her fingers as he lifted. He placed her on the edge of the seat, holding on until she was settled. As he let go, his fingers brushed her thigh. Even through the material of her skirt his touch left a trail of tiny sparks.

What the hell was going on with her? Yeah, he was hot, but what she needed right now was a man to fix her car so she could get back on the road. Nothing more. She slid around to face front, keeping her gaze fixed on the smudged windshield until the door closed and he was gone.



Cole adjusted himself as he walked around to the driver’s side. What was it about this woman that had him going from zero to sixty faster than the drop of the green flag?

He’d always been a sucker for a damsel-in-distress, even one with as much armor and attitude as Sarah Lange. But he hadn’t been prepared for the effect this woman had on him. The uptight New Yorker had been revving his engine since the moment he’d spotted her by the side of the road. Then he’d caught her staring at his package, and the hungry look on her face had sent his libido into overdrive.

Did she even realize she’d been undressing him with her eyes as she’d dressed him down? Probably not, but his body had reacted all the same. When he’d felt the sweet curve of her hips a vision had flashed through his mind—holding her as he settled his body between her naked thighs. He’d gone hard in an instant. Letting go of her had been nearly impossible. He hadn’t meant to cop a feel but couldn’t regret his accidental touch of those sexy-as-hell legs.

Cole slipped into the driver’s seat and glanced over at his passenger. He was surprised to see her sitting back against the seat, staring straight ahead. Her accent and attitude reminded him of his ex, and he’d expected Sarah to perch on the edge of the bench as Natalie had the first time he’d taken her for a ride in his truck. He grimaced. Throughout that disastrous visit, Natalie had refrained from getting too close to anything or anyone in Rapture, as if being from a small town was contagious. Or something to be ashamed of.

He pushed the memory away and focused on Sarah. Color stained her cheeks, and her blond hair was done up in a fussy little ponytail. Her full lips were pursed—most likely in aggravation—but they made him want to run his tongue along their seam to coax a kiss out of her. Or a moan.

A loud horn stopped that thought in its tracks. Mike was behind the wheel of the tow truck and ready to leave. Like Austin, Mike seemed eager to get rid of the fancy car and its equally spirited owner. Cole shook his head. City folks always seemed ornery and uncomfortable outside of their native habitat. In it too, come to think of it…

Cole turned out of the garage lot and onto the road that led toward his place. They drove down Main Street, passing Morrissey’s Restaurant and the hair salon, the post office, the hardware store and the white church steeple that rose high above the town. What did Sarah see when she looked at the town he called home? A dull backwater she couldn’t wait to escape? Probably, which was too bad. Rapture, Virginia had a lot of charm if you took the time to look beneath the surface. Of course a city girl would never think it was worth the time to do so.

Within minutes the dusty precincts of the town were behind them and the dense growth of the National Forest crowded both sides of the road. Tall trees arched overhead, their shade creating a semi-twilight intimacy in the cab. Sarah shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Each time her tight skirt rode a bit higher, revealing more stocking-clad flesh. He thought he caught a glimpse of a lace-covered band. Were those thigh-highs? He exhaled slowly. If any more blood rushed to his cock he’d pass out.