Rebel (Renegades 2)

“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.