Up in Flames(9)

“Did you go to jail?” I couldn’t help but ask.

He didn’t bat an eye. “Several times.”

The door beside me opened, and he nodded for me to get out. “After you.”

When a man admits to you that he’s gone to jail “several times,” the smart thing to do is get the hell away from him. However, I wasn’t very smart. The area between my legs actually tingled, and I felt like squirming. It absolutely turned me on.

I was screwed up in the head.

I slid over and stepped out of the Mercedes without taking the hand the driver had held out for me. I didn’t need his assistance, nor did I want to touch another man at the moment. I was more than turned on by the fact that I was with a man who was exactly what I suspected him of being: dangerous.

Gannon’s large body came up behind me, and his hand rested on my hip. I felt my panties get damp, and I inhaled deeply. I needed to get hold of myself. This was ridiculous. He’d been in jail. That wasn’t sexy; it was scary . . . no, it was sexy. As. Hell. Who was I kidding? I was completely hot for his dangerous side.

“You keep panting like that, and I’m going to throw your ass back into that car and fuck you until you become one with the leather seat. You understand?” His voice was in my ear; it was hard, and the warning tone in it made me shiver. Fear? Yes. Definitely fear. Lots of fear, but my female parts didn’t seem to get the fear memo, because they were humming with an ache I hadn’t felt before.

I inhaled sharply and nodded. I didn’t trust my words. His grip on my hip tightened, and he jerked me close to his side with a force that was sure to bruise my pale skin. Then he eased his hold and ran his hand gently over the spot he’d just abused.

“Sweet baby, you can’t toy with me. I’m not a boy. I’m a motherfucking man. Understand?”

I nodded again, and my breathing was erratic. There wasn’t a thing I could do about it. I was completely drawn in by this taste of brutality. I’d never known this, and I wasn’t sure why it called to me. I should be running like hell, not burrowing closer. Was I that fucked up?

He led me inside, and while the others around us were being weighed and given directions for their flights, we were immediately directed to a back door.

“Mr. Roth, this way sir,” a young guy said, staring toward Gannon with a fearful expression I understood. The guy didn’t even glance my way, as if he’d been warned not to, as he led us outside onto the tarmac and toward a waiting helicopter.

“Your pilot arrived an hour ago, sir, and has checked out the helicopter to his satisfaction. He’s waiting for you.”

His pilot? Did he have his own pilot?

“Good. I can take it from here. You may go,” Gannon replied, in a tone that indicated complete power.

The guy with the Maverick emblem on his navy-blue polo shirt looked relieved and turned to hurry back inside like he couldn’t get away from us fast enough.

“Are we not using one of their pilots?” I asked, looking up at him. I wasn’t wearing my stilettos tonight, and he towered over my five-nine frame.

“Only trust my own” was his reply. He stepped up to the helicopter, and the pilot inside nodded to him, then looked straight ahead as if we weren’t there.

Gannon’s hands slipped around my waist as he lifted me into the back row of seats. “Sit over by the far window,” he instructed.

He followed me in, taking the seat beside me before reaching over to buckle me into the harness. My breathing was still erratic, and his eyes flared hot with a warning I knew even before he spoke.

“Careful. I’ll fuck you right here. He can watch.”

Why did that make me shiver and squeeze my legs together? His words were sick and twisted. Yet the way his hands ran over my body and the fact that I didn’t doubt he’d take me right here, not caring who saw us, made me pant with need.

“Goddamn, you’re a wild one,” he muttered, then buckled his own straps. “Don’t put on the headset. We don’t need to talk.” His order was a hard bark.

I nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at me. His attention was straight ahead.

“Ready,” he said to the pilot, who nodded, and we slowly began to move.

As the helicopter started to lift, I watched the ground below us as Gannon’s large hand slid between my legs, roughly jerking them open. I inhaled sharply as he squeezed my thigh too hard, then cupped me with more force than was necessary. My skirt rode up my thighs, and I knew he wouldn’t miss the fact that my panties were damp. I wondered if others would be able to see the bruise on my thigh that his hand had no doubt left.