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Or has the moment where I explore physical pleasure finally arrived?
“Where do you want me?” he scrapes out.
A shiver almost violently over the forward question. “I don’t understand…d-do you mean l-like…which position? Because I don’t know anything about this sort of thing.” I drop my voice to a whisper. “About sex. If you told me I’m supposed to hang from the ceiling fan, I would probably believe you. Or are you asking me where do I want you, as in, a location? Like a bed or—where else can it be done beside a bed?”
“I’m asking you where I should sit, Tatum.”
“Oh.”
I’m on the verge of dying from embarrassment when alarm captures me in its grip, my temples pounding. “H-how do you know my name?”
Thunder shakes the windowpanes while I wait for his response. “You’re wearing a name tag,” he drawls finally, his lips making the barest yet potent contact with the side of my neck. Dragging up to the spot behind my ear. “Now show me where to sit, baby, before I decide to educate you on just how many locations there are to fuck besides a bed.”
Chapter Two
Hoss
God help me, the picture didn’t do her justice.
I’ve never seen lusher, more dramatic curves on a female and my hands are desperate to grip them, trace them, memorize every mind-blowing inch. We’re alone in this godforsaken truck stop and she’s so horny she’s tripping all over herself, flushed, picking up coffee mugs and setting them down with a rattle, as if she’s completely forgotten how to do her job. Virgin. No doubt about it. My dick is hard as stone for the innocent waitress—
And I’m here to traffic her.
I’m here to drug and smuggle this beautiful creature across the border to Canada before she’s taken to parts unknown. Sold off. Never to be seen or heard from again by her loved ones. Used to slake the lust of sick, depraved men for the rest of a severely shortened life.
At least, that’s what I’ve been hired to do.
What I will do? Another story entirely.
Finally, she sets down a steaming mug of coffee in front of me and it’s everything I can do not to knock it aside and reach across the counter, haul this gorgeous girl into my lap and pop her cherry right here on this rusty stool. I’ve been sick with hunger since my boss showed me Tatum’s picture, a candid shot of her cleaning her clothes at a laundromat, leaned over a folding table, her brow furrowed in concentration while she drew in a sketchbook.
I’m not a man who has ever been absorbed by lust. Women are occasional entertainment. I don’t remember their names, faces or anything they say to me. But hell if there isn’t something about this one. A picture of her has kept my stones in a chokehold for a week. I’ve dreamed about her. Imagined her in stores and in passing vehicles. Everywhere. Actually seeing her in person, though? There’s no comparison. If she touched me, I swear to God, I’d lose my grip on whatever control I have left. She’s soft and blushing and sweet and everything I’ve always thought was a myth.
And if my boss gave this job to someone else, I might never have known about her.
I drain the scalding hot coffee to distract myself from that horrifying thought.
“Would you like something to eat…” She looks at me expectantly, a smile flirting with the corners of her incredible mouth, no idea that I’m the big bad wolf. “That was your opening to tell me your name,” she quips, sliding a menu in my direction. “Seems fair, since you already know mine.”
Is it unwise to tell her my name? Absolutely. Does my will to hear her say it in that musical voice override any concerns? Christ yes. “Hoss.”
One of her brows ticks up. “Hoss?”
I grit my teeth to combat the rush of blood to my cock. “That’s right,” I growl.
Her throat works with a nervous swallow. “What would you like to eat, Hoss?”
You. Whole. Now.
I need to get a hold of myself or she’s never going to trust me. I need her to trust me, so I can help her. That means being patient. Putting my burning need on hold until I’ve done what is necessary. “Do you have any pie?”
She nods toward a row of clear cases. “Cherry and apple.”
A pained laugh almost escapes me. “Cherry.”
The lights flicker overhead while Tatum is cutting me a slice of pie, adding whipped cream and bringing it back, setting it down in front of me. “It’s a bad one tonight,” she murmurs, adding a fork to my plate. “The roads must have been terrible.”
I grunt in agreement, sinking the fork into the flaky crust and carving out a huge bite. Watching her pupils dilate as I carry it to my mouth and slide it in. “Let’s just say I like it much better in here.” I swipe my finger through the cream and lick it off, imagining I’m tonguing it out of her pussy while she gasps and squirms. “I thought it got lonely out on the road, but you’re pretty isolated in here, too, without any customers.”
