Hijacked (The Night Series) Page 5
Oh God! What if it was all in her head? She was sitting at the edge of his driveway like some Fatal Attraction stalker…shit!
She popped her eyes open and threw the car in reverse, screaming and slamming on her brakes when she looked in her rearview mirror and saw Kyle sitting on a huge palomino horse.
Busted.
Fuck!
She gnawed on the inside of her bottom lip and watched as he steered the horse to the driver’s side of her car. He was wearing worn-out jeans, scuffed boots, and a faded, denim button-up shirt with the sleeves cut off at the shoulder. His arms—tan and toned—glistened with sweat, the stubble on his face showed no signs of shaving, and his barely brown hair was damp and ruffled. Was it possible for him to look bad? Hell, no! He was hot as hell even grimy and sweaty, and she found herself wanting to pull him off that horse and ride the life out of him right there on the ground.
“Wow!” he said as she rolled the window down. “You almost took us out.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Where were you going anyway?” He crossed his arms over the saddle horn and readjusted in his seat. His perfectly crooked grin lit up his face.
“I don’t know…driving.”
“I’m glad you’re here. After you left yesterday I realized the only way I had to contact you was to find you at Night.”
“It’s closed on Mondays.”
“That’s good to know. I was prepared to go over there later and wait for you to show.” The horse fidgeted, and he pulled on the reins, turning her in a circle. “I’ve got to get this saddle off her. If you want to go down to the house, I’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes. It’s unlocked, so go on in.”
Sharon steered the vehicle down the driveway, admiring the way he handled the horse as he rode off in front of her and cut across a pasture beside his house. She parked the car next to his truck and walked in. Not entirely comfortable sitting in his house alone, she went straight through to the patio out back and sat on the edge of one of the chaise loungers by the pool. Her phone beeped and she picked it up and checked the text. It was from Kayla, telling her it was about time she responded but that she was glad she was still alive. Sharon laughed and replied that she would see her tomorrow at work, then set the phone back down beside her.
“God, you look good.”
She started at Kyle’s voice and looked up to see him standing in the doorway. Goose bumps raised on her skin with anticipation of touching him. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He snorted. “I’m filthy. Give me a couple of minutes to shower. You don’t have to sit outside.”
“I know. I like it out here.” Sharon glanced around the private oasis.
“I’ll be right back.” He walked over and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m taking you out tonight.”
* * * *
“Why did you just pull on to the interstate?”
“We’re going to Jackson.” Kyle hit the scan button on the radio console as if what he’d said wasn’t significant.
Sharon, on the other hand, was on the verge of freaking out. She couldn’t go to Jackson. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“Skip work. I need you tomorrow.”
“What! I can’t miss work tomorrow. I called in sick today.” Though, the idea of spending the day with him was tempting.
“Oh, really? Called in sick, huh?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“And you waited until late afternoon to come over?” He took her hand. “I’ve been in hell all day waiting to see you.”
She turned in the seat to face him. “Honestly, I thought about you all day. I was trying to see how long I could last without being near you.”
“Ah, masochist.”
“Ha, no.” She laughed. “Also, I didn’t know if you would be at work or not. Speaking of work, you know what I do for a living. What about you?”
“I have a cattle ranch. I run it.”
“How long have you had the ranch? I grew up in Pineville, and I’ve never heard anyone talk about a cattle farm.”
“I bought the land a couple of years back. I got the herd a few months ago.” He cleared his throat. “Back to you. I want you with me tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “I’m not missing work.”
“I’ll pay you twice what you’d make tomorrow.”
No, he didn’t. He couldn’t be serious. Sharon jerked her hand from his. Basically, he’d just called her a whore. Livid, she spouted. “I’m sorry. I think more of myself than a twenty-eight dollar an hour lay.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, he was slamming on the brakes, throwing her body forward. Thank God for seatbelts. “Sharon, that’s not what I meant.”
An eighteen wheeler whizzed by, shaking the truck. What was she doing? She didn’t know him. She’d set herself up. Let her guard down. “Get off the highway, Kyle.”
“Let me straighten out what I said.”
One after another vehicles passed by them honking. “Fine! Fuck it! You want to get killed on the interstate by a speeding vehicle. I don’t care. I’ll walk God damn it!” She unlatched her seatbelt, threw the door open, and jumped out of the vehicle, not bothering to close the door.
“Get in the truck, Sharon!” He pulled next to the shoulder, driving the same speed she was walking.
She refused to acknowledge him. Instead, she kept her sight on the rest area a few hundred feet away. Her phone was in the cup holder attached to the console of his truck, and she needed to call Kayla for a ride. There was no way she was riding with him. Not after what he’d said. Damn it! She’d left her cigarettes in her car.
Two more vehicles passed, laying on the horn as they did.
“Sharon!”
She turned to face the truck, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Leave. Me. Alone.”
Kyle reached across the seat and slammed the door she’d left open. He hit the gas, and she expected him to take off and leave her, but he pulled to the shoulder not far ahead. He bailed from the vehicle, throwing his hands in the air. “Jesus! You can’t walk down the side of the interstate.”
“You shouldn’t worry. Apparently I have plenty of practice walking the streets!” Sharon took a deep breath and tried to push past him, but he stepped in front of her and took her shoulders. She planted her palms against his chest to push him away. Instead, the sudden high from his contact hijacked her thoughts, and all she knew was that leaving him was not an option.
Her hands gripped his shirt, tugging him to her as he grabbed her ponytail, directing her mouth to his. Her frantic tongue searched his as her arms latched around the back of his neck. He grabbed her ass, picking her up, and she straddled his waist.
He carried her to the passenger side of the truck, away from traffic, and jerked the door open.
“Mmm. Are you gonna fuck me?” she asked, her mouth not leaving his.
“Hell yes, I am.” He sat her in the front seat and popped open the glove compartment. “Here.” He handed her a small, foil wrapper.
She tore it open with her teeth as he unleashed his cock. Her insides jerked at the sight, and her sex pulsed. She wasted no time covering him.
Kyle bent down to kiss her. “Panties?”
“Ah…none.”
“You make me crazy.” With a shudder, he nudged the hem of her dress above her waist. Grabbing the backs of her thighs, he pulled her to the edge of the seat and slipped his thumb into her folds.
She tilted her hips against his hand, moaning low. “Please…fuck me.”
“God, I’m throbbing too hard. It’ll be fast.”
“I don’t care.” And she didn’t. She just wanted to feel him inside her. She had to satisfy the craving she’d had all day.
“Lean back.”
She did, and he grabbed her hips, dragging her off the seat until only her upper back and shoulders were against the warm leather of the truck seat, then he slammed into her, taking her breath away.
* * * *
&nbs
p; “What are we doing here?” Sharon stared out the window at Donovan Suites, the most expensive hotel in Jackson, maybe all of Mississippi for all she knew. What she was certain of was that it was too rich for her tastes. Never one to pay extra for all the bells and whistles, she thought a lot of people went overboard with it, throwing money around. It seemed senseless.
Kyle steered the truck to valet parking. “Eating.”
“At The Blue Ivy?” She’d heard about this place...the restaurant located inside Donovan Suites. The cheapest thing on the menu, other than water, was the side salad and it was twenty-five dollars. She shook her head. “No. I’m a mess.”
“I don’t see a mess. I see your beautiful green eyes and blonde hair.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going in, Kyle.”
“Fine, then. We’ll have it delivered.” He hopped out of the truck, tossed the valet his keys, and jogged around to open her door. He laughed. “Come on. What do you care how these stuffed shirts see you?”
“I don’t. I just know I won’t be comfortable in there.”
“Like I said, we’ll have it delivered.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“And you’re being stubborn.” He grabbed her waist and lifted her from the truck. “Trust me.”
Sharon, holding Kyle’s hand, followed him through the lobby of the grand hotel. She tried her best to keep her mouth closed, as she was in awe of her surroundings. The floor was shiny, black marble. The walls were creamy beige with black, metal artwork hung precisely to allow the recessed lighting to highlight the features. Huge pillars sectioned off sitting areas where the furniture was steel or aluminum, she didn’t know which, but the cushions were dark, brown leather. A table in each area boasted a crimson and vanilla colored flower centerpiece…by the fragrance in the vast room, the flowers were real.
“Mr. Phillips.” An older man behind the marble and wood counter of the front desk greeted Kyle with a nod and handed him a key card. “Your room.”
He was getting a room? Not that she was surprised they were staying in Jackson—she did agree to stay with him and call in to work, but she didn’t expect to stay here. And how did that man know Kyle’s name anyway?
Sharon caught a glimpse of Kyle looking at her from the corner of his eye. “Thanks, but I’ll need something smaller. Please,” he said as he returned the card.
The man shot a quick look to Sharon. She was positive he was silently disapproving of her, and the thought crossed her mind to flip the guy off, but she held back, instead opting to step closer to Kyle. Being against him would be one hundred times more satisfying than giving the bird to a judgmental stranger.
“Room 614, Mr. Phillips, and I hope it’s more satisfactory.” He passed the key card back to Kyle. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Just one minute, Charles.” Kyle leaned his head down to Sharon’s. “What do you want to eat?”
“I don’t know what they serve.” Finally she realized what he meant when he said ‘we’ll have it delivered.’
Kyle kissed her on top of the head and put his arm around her waist, squeezing her closer. “Anything you want.”
Chapter 6
Kyle watched as Sharon moved her half-eaten plate of spaghetti to the bedside table and stared at the fire. Her green eyes were beautiful as the flames reflected from them. They had their supper sitting on the king-sized bed, directly across from a stone fireplace. The room was smaller than the Presidential Suite Charles had handed him the key for, but it was not lacking in luxury. None of the rooms at any of the Donovan Properties were short in splendor.
Kyle moved his plate from the down comforter then released the hair tie from her hair, enthralled as her golden locks fell against her back. He ran his hands through the flowing mane, and the tips of his fingers grazed her back, making him shudder. She was quiet, had been since they entered the lobby. He knew she was uncomfortable about eating at the restaurant downstairs, but staying in the hotel—for him it was like being home, for her though—it may have been too much.
“Do you come here a lot?” she asked, gathering her hair and knotting it up with the tie.
“I used to, a long time ago. Why?” The muscles in his chest released spasms. He had a lot to tell her.
“I heard the man behind the desk call you Mr. Phillips when you walked up to him. I figured you were a frequent flyer here or something like it.”
“It’s something like it.”
“Well, we’ve all got a past…right? There’s no other way to get to the present.” She crossed her legs in front of her and turned to look in his eyes. His heart raced as if it would burst.
“Yeah we do, and mine has a lot to do with this place.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want to know about your past flings. We’ve all had them.”
He laughed inside. She was so off track. He decided to tell her about everything—the business tonight, his ex-wife tomorrow. “My father was Donovan Phillips.”
Sharon stared at him for a moment, and he couldn’t read her initial reaction.
“Donovan Phillips.” Her voice was flat, unaffected. She moved from the bed and stepped away, chewing on the inside of her lip. It was adorable the way she did that when she was nervous or unsure. She leaned against the door. “You’re messing with me.”
Kyle shook his head. She was so hard to read. “I’m serious.”
“The Donovan Phillips? The one who owns Donovan Properties.”
“The one and only.”
“You know that’s the third biggest hotel chain in the world…right?” She moved from the door to sit on the edge of the bed. “I only know because I just watched a Travel Channel documentary about that. And you were in it, I mean a photo of you and your father was on the screen. I didn’t recognize you…because I didn’t know you then…I watched it last week.” She turned and looked at him. “Why do you live in Pineville?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted. “And I’m sorry…about your father.”
“Thanks, he passed a couple of years ago. They filmed that documentary right after. And I moved to Pineville to get away from the corporate world. It’s not my thing.”
“What is your thing?”
“You.”
She rolled her eyes. “Be serious.”
But he was serious. He shrugged. “Okay, I guess my land…the horses…the cattle.”
“Don’t you own all of Donovan Properties now?”
“Fifty-one percent.” He was getting anxious. Talking about the business was not a favorite topic of his. The only reason he agreed to keeping his ownership was because he knew his father worked long and hard to create a legacy for himself, and making sure every hotel lived up to his standards was the only way he knew how to let Donovan Phillip’s name live on.
“Doesn’t it keep you busy?”
“I show up for board meetings once a month. It’s not bad. I have a good team working for me.”
“Huh.” She scooted up the bed, resting her back on the headboard.
“What?”
“I never would’ve guessed.”
Sharon patted the space beside her and he filled it, laying his head in her lap. “It’s not something I talk about often.”
“Are you worried people won’t like you because you have money?” The tip of her index finger lightly traced his hairline.
“No.” He took a deep breath and released it. “I’m concerned they’ll like me because I do.”
* * * *
Sharon rolled over and opened her eyes. Even sleeping, Kyle was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. She smiled. Waking up beside him every day would take no time getting used to, and for the first time in her life, someone made her feel like she deserved it. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, and she could see it in his eyes…the way he craved her. With the back of her fingers, she lightly stroked his jaw line.
His lids fluttered before opening. He licked his
lips, his bright blues taking her in. “This is perfect, you know…waking up with you.”
Half surprised at what he’d said, her hand froze, but she nodded in agreement.
Kyle sat up on his elbow and pulled her closer. “Lay flat on your back.”
And she did, chills running through her. His morning voice was low and more rugged than usual. She liked it.
He tossed back the blanket. His eyes ran over her naked body. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”
She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. Her heart was pounding in her throat, confiscating every word. The tips of his fingers grazed her forehead, down her nose. He outlined her lips and went to her chin, pulling just enough to part her mouth.
“I can’t get enough of you, Sharon Blake.” He leaned over to lick her lips, tracing where his fingers had just been, and her pussy was instantly wet.
She moaned in his mouth, lifting an arm to his shoulder.
He took her hand and put it back at her side. “I want you still. Eyes closed.”
“I can’t promise anything.” She giggled under her breath, closing her lids. The anticipation of what he had planned rippled to her core, causing the walls of her opening to contract.
His fingers trailed down her neck and over her chest, swirling around an already taut nipple. He pinched at it, and went to the other. Her sex constricted, and she shifted her hips, begging to be filled.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. His breathing was harsh, strained.
The magic of his touch left tingles on her skin as he went across the flat plane of her stomach and over the small patch of hair above her dripping center. He dragged his fingers lightly over her folds.
God, he was making it hard for her not to move. Every touch, every tingle left her muscles twitching. Her entire body screamed to jump on him and ride his cock until she passed out from pleasure. But he wanted her motionless, so she fought against the urges and relished in the blissful torture he was creating.