Rebel (35 page)

She pulled her lip between her teeth, and tears rolled down her cheeks, then dripped on the floor before she could lift her hand to wipe them away. The sight absolutely broke him. He hadn’t even believed her capable of crying—a preconceived idea he’d only just now realized.

“I do,” she said, her voice shaky. “When I saw you with Melissa…” She sniffled. “It hurt to think of losing you.” She lifted her gaze to his. They were filled to the brim with tears and the brightest green he’d ever seen. “I don’t know how to do this, Wes. I haven’t had a relationship since high school, and even then I was no good at it. I was never good at it. You have to accept that responsibility if you want to be with me—knowing I could very well screw it all up and hurt you.”

“Now boarding group number four on United Airlines flight 5612 to Los Angeles,” came over the intercom. “Group four.”

Wes’s own eyes grew hot. He lifted a hand to her face and turned her to look at him. “The last time I told a woman I loved her for the first time was back in high school. I think we’ve both grown up a little since then. We both know you can do anything you put that wicked mind to.”

She huffed a laugh, and tears squeezed out of her eyes when they closed. Wes lifted her face to his and kissed the trails over her cheeks, sipping the wetness from her skin. Then touched his lips to hers. Now they were warm and wet and salty.

When she kissed him back, a rush of urgency filled his body in a
whoosh
. He opened his mouth and stroked his tongue between her lips. She responded instantly, heatedly, pushing a hand into his hair and fisting it as she met his tongue on a long moan.

“Now boarding group number five on United Airlines flight 5612 to Los Angeles,” came over the intercom. “Last boarding call for United Airlines flight 5612 to Los Angeles.”

He pulled his mouth from hers. “Stay, Rubi. Just a few days. Meet Wyatt, see how the rig works. You don’t have to stay with my family. There’s a bed-and-breakfast a few miles away, a couple of hotels in Washington, just over the river—”

“I’ll stay.” She said, a smile warming her face. Wes felt like the sun rose in his chest. “Just for a few days. I’m not sure what to do about where to stay.”

Christ, he was elated. Even his craziest stunt didn’t work him up like this. “We’ll leave it open for now. Let’s go home, get some dinner, meet my family—”

“I’ve already met a few. I’m guessing Melissa goes by Missy?”

“She used to, in high school. How’d you know that?”

Rubi pushed to her feet and grabbed the handle of her luggage. “Evidently, Birdie thinks I’m Missy.”

Wes straightened with a groan. “Sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter. But someone should tell Birdie you don’t prefer blondes so much anymore.”

He swung his arm around her shoulders and grinned down at her. “She said she gave you a batch of my favorite treat. You owe me some sugar.”

Rubi lifted that gorgeous face to his, the shadows weren’t completely gone from her eyes, but that didn’t keep love from squeezing his heart.

“Let’s just see how this goes,” she said. “Then we’ll talk about sugar.”

Twenty-Two

Wes couldn’t believe what a lucky bastard he was. He could have lost her if he’d missed her at the airport. And he was sure that by the time she’d reached LA, she would have convinced herself she was done with him. Now, she sat in the middle of the bench seat, squeezed to his side beneath his arm. Her mouth was on his neck, her hand on his thigh. Which kept inching higher.

Almost to the turn off the main highway, Wes had pulled the clip from her hair and now combed his fingers through the strands again. He could do it forever. So thick, so silky, it felt beautiful beneath his hand. Right now he was also enjoying the comfortable silence between them. They’d spent the first half hour catching up—on Wyatt and Wes’s family, on Rubi’s work, the stunt apps, Rodie, and the house. Rubi had just finished telling him about the Realtor who kept popping in on her without calling, and he was wishing he could have been there to show the man the way out. On his ass.

“Why don’t you put an offer in on your house?”

“I already tried that. Six times.” Her smooth voice purred in his ear, shooting tingles over his neck. If he got any harder, his dick was going to break his zipper.

“Can’t hurt to try again.”

“Yes, it could. I’m done with him.”

“You can still be done. Just look at it as a business transaction. One that allows you to own the house you love, free of him. You can’t win the game if you don’t play.”

When he glanced at her, she lifted her head and kissed his lips. He tried kissing her while watching the road, and the truck veered into the other lane. Wes straightened with a jerk of the wheel. “Whoa.”

Rubi laughed. “You can’t drive and kiss at the same time?”

“Obviously not.” He signaled and took the exit for the two-lane road leading to his parents’ house.

“Hmm.” She ran a finger from his temple to his jaw. Then her hand slid beneath the hem of his T-shirt and stroked his belly, her fingers pausing on the button of his jeans. And popped it. “What about with my mouth on a different part of your body?”

She worked his zipper down, and Wes was caught in a tense battle between shock and excitement. “Rubi—”

He jerked at the feel of her palm cradling his cock. With a soft hum of pleasure, she lowered her head and closed her mouth over him. A brilliant burst of light blinded him. “Ah shit, Rubi…”

She took him deeper, stroking the swollen shaft with a velvet tongue.

“Oh my God.” His hand tightened in her hair. Excitement whipped up from his groin. His balls squeezed. His gut stung with pleasure. “Rubi…”

He didn’t know what he wanted to say—other than her name. Or how impossibly good she felt. Or how badly he wanted her. But she wasn’t listening anyway. And Wes couldn’t think anymore. She suckled him deep, moaning with pleasure, dragging him out of her mouth slowly. So slowly.

She sat up and kissed his mouth again. “I want you.” She unfastened her seat belt. Her hands slipped beneath her skirt, reappearing as they dragged her panties down her legs—all while those catlike eyes stayed on him. “And I can’t wait.”

The woman was one ridiculous thrill after another. Wes divided his attention between the road and Rubi, favoring the latter enough to convince him he was going to end up in a ditch. She turned, pulled her feet beneath her, and knelt on the seat beside him. With a hand on his shoulder, she said, “You concentrate on staying on the pavement. I’ll concentrate on staying on you.”

Slowly, carefully, she stretched one long leg—high heel still in place—across his lap. He was momentarily distracted from the consequences of the act by the glorious sight of that toned thigh. Then the sweet scent of her arousal mixed with her perfume and—
wham
—lust hit him hard and square. His focus on the road wavered.

“Whoa, hold on—”

“Are you a stunt driver,” she asked, aligning her hips with his and leaning slightly to one side so he could see out the windshield over her shoulder, “or not?”

His head was definitely fogged. He couldn’t even answer.
Was
he a stunt driver? What the fuck was his goddamned name? The woman wiped his mind of everything but her—her scent, her feel, her taste. And yes, he wanted to be tasting her. But all his mind could do was spin and spin. Then she lowered herself until her soft pussy pressed along the length of his cock. And, holy mother of
God
, he lost his mind.

“Christ, Rubi…” He sounded like he was dying. One hand choked the steering wheel. His other fingers dug into the perfect curve of her bare hip beneath her skirt.

Come on, turnout.
But there was nothing on the side of the road but narrow grassy patches lined with trees.

She rocked her hips, and her pussy wet his length. The stroke washed his lower body with electric need. “God,” she breathed, “you feel good.”

“For the love of God…” he ground out from behind clenched teeth.

She pushed up on her knees, gripped his cock in her palm, and dragged him to her entrance.

Still no goddamned turnout. What the fuck was wrong with Missouri transit?

Her pussy closed over the tip of his cock, and another streak of lightning blinded him. When his sight returned, he was drifting toward the shoulder. He straightened, but… “Rubi…”

A hot little breathy laugh came from her throat. One filled with decadent, wicked pleasure. One that amped his heart rate, temperature, and blood pressure until his skin felt too tight.

And then she lowered the rest of the way on his cock. Slowly. Slowly. So damn slowly.

The road swam in his vision. But a shadow on the right exposed a turnout. Wes braked, turned the wheel, and bumped over the turnout’s rough gravel base. That rumble also made Rubi bounce on his lap, and he pushed so deep, he could have been in her throat again.

She was half laughing, half moaning when he shoved the truck into Park, fisted her hair with both hands, and jerked her head down to kiss her. Her curved lips instantly opened and molded to his, her tongue tasting.

Wes groped for his seat belt, released it, and slid out from behind the wheel, carrying her with him. His hands moved down her back to her hips. With his feet braced on the floor, his hand on her ass, he had everything he needed to dig in. She was perfectly tight. Lusciously wet, and with all the need pent up over the last few days, all his frustration, all his desire, he tightened his ass and pushed with his thighs, driving into her. Over and over and over with frantic and sudden fiery need.

“Oh God…” she said, her voice high-pitched and tight.

“Insane.” He needed more, so much more. And faster. And longer. But this was a quick, urgent surge of lust. The kind that snapped with the heat of an explosive. “You feel so good.”

His orgasm came barreling at him, like a brick wall in a stunt crash, only this time he wouldn’t bail before impact.

“God…”

Her teeth closed over his shoulder and a scream rumbled in her throat. Her pussy clenched around him, the muscles convulsing, squeezing his orgasm forward. He let his own scream of release come, filling the cab with the guttural sound of pleasure. Let himself feel the thrill roll through him in waves.

Rubi’s forehead rested on his shoulder. Her hot breath streamed through the cotton of his T-shirt. Her heart beat quickly against his chest. And Wes felt the impact of that figurative brick wall, his head wobbly and dazed.

“Lawson,” she said between breaths, “you rock my world.”

That tickled something inside him, and laughter rolled up his throat. Then he had to catch his breath again before he said, “You fucking…floor me.”

“Well…we’ve got that…going for us, right?”

He dropped his head back on the seat and lifted a hand to push the hair from her eyes. They were heavy-lidded, smoky, and sated. Her full mouth a little more swollen from his assault. Christ, he’d missed her so much, it hurt to look at her. He kissed her gently. “We’ve got a hell of a lot more than that going for us, baby.”

So relaxed after that blockbuster quickie, Rubi almost fell asleep on Wes’s shoulder. He was warm and quiet, his arm tight around her shoulders, his fingers sliding through her hair in a barely there caress that soothed her toward sleep.

Then the car slowed, turned, and gravel crunched under the tires.

She came awake quickly and with a fresh ball of unease in her gut. In the headlights, the house where she’d met Birdie and Claudia stood illuminated. But now it didn’t look at all tranquil. The quiet country home bustled with activity. Cars and trucks lined the drive. Golden light spilled from every window. People stood in the kitchen, sat in the family room, wandered the living room. Children streaked between the rooms, and their voices reached Rubi all the way out where Wes parked, a dozen yards or more from the house.

“Um…” She lifted her head from his shoulder as he turned off the engine. “Are they having a party…or something?”

Wes grinned, but it wasn’t as wide or bright as his carefree smile. “Not exactly.” He unwrapped his arm from around her shoulders. “My parents are back—they went to Kansas City today on business. Looks like Whitney is here, and, well, a few other relatives.”

“A few?”

“We’ve got a big family that seems to congregate whenever there’s a wedding, birth, death, holiday…or, in this case, surgery.”

A flutter in her stomach carried the knot toward her throat. “Ah.”

Her mind was busy darting between skipping out—she could think of a million excuses—and staying. For Wes. She knew meeting his family was important to him, and she already felt bad over the realization that she’d originally come for selfish motives.

Wes opened the door, slid out, and turned, reaching for her. He gripped her waist and pulled her into him, kissing her as he lowered her feet to the ground. His lips were gentle, the kiss slow and tender. “I can’t wait to get you…”—he kissed her again—“in a bed…”—and again—“for an entire night.”

Rubi’s nerves coiled. The idea sounded blissful in some ways, terrifying in others. And that streak of discomfort that kept popping up whenever she experienced a solid foundation of happiness annoyed the hell out of her. Even acknowledging the conditioned response for what it was didn’t do anything to make it less terrifying.