Drive Me Wild (Ridden Hard, #4)

by Allyson Lindt

  “If you had been, would I hesitate to tell you?”

  No, she really wouldn’t. He hadn’t known what to make of her a first, with the directness and all, but the longer he was exposed to it, the more he liked it. It was actually a relief to not have to guess what she was thinking. “Fair enough. And just so you know, I didn’t forget, and thank you for trusting me with the things you did.”

  Her threatening scowl vanished into a soft, almost shy smile. That was adorable. Not sexy or seductive, but vulnerable and kissable.

  He had a feeling it wasn’t a side of her that many people saw. He wanted to shake the thought aside, but it took up residence in his head. “I’ll shower, and we can go.”

  She knelt next to him on the bed and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be here.”

  He wasn’t to overthink the gesture. Ginny was a touchy person. She had been since they moment they met... less than a week ago. Had it really only been a few days?

  He tried to keep his brain from sticking on the kiss as he showered and dressed. It was a simple thing. Chaste. Sweet. Meaningless.

  It didn’t matter how many different ways he tried to convince his head of that, his heart skipped each time he replayed that flash of time in his mind. It didn’t overpower the memories of sex, but it stayed on the same level. A simple kiss, on the cheek, and it had his pulse racing as fast as the ghost of her riding him.

  A short while later, they were driving again. They grabbed breakfast on the way out of town. Ginny’s grin was infectious, and Mason felt light.

  Some of that also might be related to yesterday’s conversation. Her trust. His revelation. I don’t love Trina. That was a freeing thought.

  “I have a surprise,” she said. “But we have to take a really brief detour.”

  “What kind of surprise? Where?”

  “Las Vegas, but that’s all I’m saying. Oh, and that you shouldn’t make any plans.”

  “Well damn. There goes my wild night,” he teased.

  She giggled. That was an incredible sound. “We can still do the wild night thing if you want.”

  “How so?” It didn’t come naturally to push past his own walls, but he was going to say what he wanted, without trying to figure out if it was the right thing or not. “I’m already arriving with the sexiest stripper in the world. So you must be talking about extra cheese on the pizza, bad movies, and binge-eating ice cream.”

  He braced himself for the backlash.

  She traced her fingers along his leg so lightly it almost tickled. “I like the way you think. That might include a private show if you play your cards right.”

  The blatant teasing sent need pulsing under his skin. “Then I guess I’ll have to behave. Or misbehave. Hmm...” He’d do whatever she asked to get the right response.

  Except she wouldn’t ask. He just had to be himself. Was that really enough? The thought was terrifying and electrifying at the same time.

  Her laugh was crystal clear and intoxicating. “Just keeping doing what you’re doing.”

  God, this was amazing. He wanted it to last forever. Though he’d start with the next twenty-four hours. He didn’t care if the night really did just end with ice cream and pizza.

  Okay, he cared a little. He wanted another chance with Ginny. To feel her bare skin. To have her all to himself. To taste her and make her moan.

  But hanging out with her and watching movies didn’t feel like settling.

  They adjusted their course for a detour through Las Vegas. The next few hours passed quickly. When the conversation lulled, they turned up the music, but the silence was never uncomfortable.

  At some point his phone rang. He let it go to voicemail. He was having too much fun talking to Ginny, and everyone knew he was traveling, so they’d understand a delay.

  A short while later the signs started appearing for the next rest stop. “Do you want to stop and stretch your legs?” he asked.

  “And pee. Get some more Coke.”

  “Right.” So he wasn’t completely used to Ginny speaking her mind.

  They pulled into the rest stop, and she headed toward the bathrooms.

  He dialed into his voicemail.

  “Mason, this is Janna, the Director of Human Resources for Pipeware. I’m sorry to leave this in a voicemail, but I’d rather not drag things out with a game of phone tag. We’ve made some departmental adjustments, and we no longer have an open position for you. We’ll keep your name on file in case something opens up. We’re happy to provide a recommendation. Best of luck in your career.”

  Fuck. Disappointment rushed in first, and he sank onto a nearby bench. Frustration and powerlessness came next, and he dropped his phone, letting it tumble to the grass.

  The job that was supposed to be waiting for him. Along with the company-provided housing. The thing that would allow him to stay in Malibu when he got there.

  And none of waited for him now. He could drop Ginny off and turn around and go back to Atlanta. But Max had already picked up a new roommate, and Mason was going to be rolling into California on financial fumes.

  His parents would put him up, but there was no room in their trailer. He wasn’t staying with Jake...

  Damn it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Ginny found Mason sitting on a bench, staring blankly at his feet, his phone lying on the ground.

  She picked up the device and sat next to him. “What’s wrong?”

  “At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I just lost half my life.” The frustration hung heavy in his voice.

  She rested a hand on his knee. “Be melodramatic as much as you want, and then give me details. Is your family all right?”

  “Yeah. I think so. I hope so. It’s nothing like that.” He sighed through his fingers. “That missed phone call was to tell me I don’t have a job or a house when I get to California.”

  You can come stay with me. The answer surged forward, and she swallowed the impulsive offer. That was a really bad idea. They were having fun, but not let’s move in together fun. Not even as roommates. Talk about blurred lines.

  One little slip from him about not being in love with his ex anymore, and she was ready to throw reason to the wind? No. That wasn’t Ginny. “We’ll find you another job. You’ve got skills, experience, and you’re the perfect demographic.”

  “But even if I find something the day I arrive, it’s probably a couple of weeks before I get paid, and I can’t afford a place to live until that happens.”

  Ginny could see why he was stressed. She squeezed his knee. “There are a lot of jobs that will pay you cash from day one. Places where you get tips. I know it’s probably not ideal but waiting tables, bartending... Hell, I could teach you to strip.”

  “I’m tempted to take you up on that.” His laugh was strained. “I don’t have experience doing any of those things.”

  “You’re a quick learner, right? You’re reliable, polite, and sober. Those are some solid skills for a lot of places.” She’d been there. When she first arrived in Atlanta, she didn’t have anything but the change in her pocket. She had a lot of sympathy for him, but the situation wasn’t hopeless.

  “Am I going to make enough to afford even a cheap motel? Malibu isn’t exactly an inexpensive place to live. Most of southern California isn’t.” He took his phone from her and slid it into his pocket.

  She couldn’t say for sure, but odds were slim that he’d make anywhere near what he was used to. “You used to live out there. Do you still have friends from work? You could crash on someone’s couch.”

  He gave a short, barking laugh. “I didn’t get along with most of the guys in the office. Trina was the only friend I had. Pretty sure she doesn’t want me crashing on her fiancée’s couch.”

  “Probably not.” Ginny gritted her teeth at the phrasing. It was a tiny thing. Nothing to get worked up over. But she would have felt a lot better if he’d said he was the one who wasn’t comfortable with that idea. She pushed aside the reaction. He didn’
t mean anything by his comment, and she wasn’t going to jump on him for it. “You can’t do much from here, besides eat through your data plan. Let’s get to Vegas, and you can spam some resumes tonight.”

  “Good call.” He sounded so dejected. They made their way back to the car.

  She wanted to reach out and wrap him in a hug and tell him they’d figure it out together, and everything would be all right.

  Fear and doubt held her back. She couldn’t say what frightened her. Or maybe she could—if she let him further inside her defenses and things went badly...

  An ache behind her ribs kept her from finishing the thought.

  “ARE WE ALLOWED UP HERE?” Mason asked. They were on the top floor of one of the Cesar’s Palace towers in Las Vegas.

  “Trust me.” Ginny took his hand and tugged him off the elevator. Her grip was firm, and her hand soft and smooth. “Close your eyes.”

  He did what she said. Mostly. He kept squinting as they walked down the hall.

  “No peeking,” she scolded. “I promise I’m not going to walk you into anything.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut tight. It was disorienting. How far had they walked? He tried to count off doors, based on what he’d seen, but he had no idea how many steps it too to get from one to the next. Being temporarily blind seemed to make time crawl.

  At least it was distracting him from his looming lack of employment. He hadn’t been the greatest company the rest of the drive here, but Ginny was patient. She’d alternated between temporary job and living suggestions, and casual banter.

  The stopped.

  Mason resisted the urge to look. He heard a soft whir, and then the click of a door latch.

  Ginny led him forward again. “Okay, you can look now,” she said.

  “Whoa.” Awe flooded him. The room they were in was bigger than his entire apartment. He’d seen high-roller rooms on TV, but in person was a different story. Everything was so plush. There were a couple of couches, a coffee table, a balcony with an amazing view... Was that a pool table in the corner? “How did you... Do we have to gamble for this? I don’t care how good you are, you can’t—”

  “I know a guy who promised me a room if I was ever in town. I figured tonight was a good time to call in the favor. You really like it?” Ginny looked pleased with herself. She skipped further into the room.

  Mason dropped his bag on the floor. He forced himself to ignore that his grimy duffel might leave marks on the pale carpet. “I love it. It’s incredible.”

  “And you’re okay with it coming from a regular of mine?” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and furrowed her brow.

  “As long as you didn’t have to fuck him to get it.” He snapped his jaw shut. “I mean... That came out wrong.” But did it? There was a whisper of possessiveness. He was mostly okay with her past, but jealousy tugged inside at the thought of sharing her. Sharing? Ginny wasn’t his to say that about.

  Her smile was back. “I didn’t have to do anything of the sort. I didn’t really fuck my clients at the club. In any loose sense of the definition. Come on.” She twirled toward the couches. “Come in. Have a seat. Make yourself at home. We get the entire package. Everything is on the hotel.”

  This dude must have really liked the way Ginny took her clothes off. Not that Mason blamed him.

  He settled gingerly on the sofa. He kind of wanted to make the place feel lived in for the next twelve or so hours, but he wasn’t sure he dared touch anything. “Do you think this place is too posh order pizza.”

  Her smile was the more relaxed one that warmed him. She grabbed a room service menu from the table next to her, and flipped through it. “Hmm... Have you ever had a fifty-dollar pizza?”

  “I can’t say I have.”

  “We’ll charge it to the room. Let’s see if it’s worth paying at least double for. I did promise you a wild night.” The mischief that danced behind her eyes was its own kind of temptation. She reached across him to grab the phone.

  Her warm weight pressed against his chest. He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, not really thinking about the gesture until she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

  Ginny twisted her head to look at him, her eyes wide. She was stunning. He kept thinking he’d get used to it, but each time he saw her from a new angle, or in a new mood, her beauty struck him again.

  She licked her lips, and dropped the phone. “Maybe pizza can wait.”

  “I’m not hungry yet anyway.” He dropped a hand to her hip. If he dipped his head, he could kiss her. Would she smack him? With the sheen on her mouth, and the heave of her chest, he was willing to take that risk. He brushed his lips over hers.

  Her gasp was soft, but it crashed around him. She rested her hand on his chest, steadying herself, and kissed back. It was a gentle push and pull of tongues dancing and teeth nipping, and he couldn’t get close enough.

  She slipped and lost her balance, breaking contact. He steadied her, and helped her sit back on the cushions.

  She traced her fingertips over her lips, then knelt and kissed him again. Heat raced over and through him. Her mouth was soft but demanding. How was that possible? He dragged his fingers up her back, wanting her closer. Needing to feel more.

  Each tiny sound that tore from her throat spilled over his senses. He could fall into this for hours. Just kissing Ginny. Sure, he wouldn’t complain about more. The jerk of his cock against his zipper wanted that. But this was its own kind of high.

  Ginny broke away, and Mason gasped. Were his lips as swollen as hers? It felt like it.

  She ducked her head, pink spreading across her cheeks. “Can I ask a favor? And please don’t take it the wrong way.”

  That didn’t sound good. But her tone was shy, not angry or defensive. “Of course.”

  “I don’t want...” She fiddled with a button on the cushion. “You’re a really good kisser.”

  “Thanks. You too.” What else was he supposed to say to something like that?

  “But I don’t want... I don’t know how to say this without it sounding stupid.”

  This was a side of her he wasn’t used to. “If you were giving me advice, you’d tell me to just say it, and not overthink it.”

  “You make me sound smart.”

  “You are.” One of the most brilliant people he knew.

  “Okay. Here goes. I don’t want to have sex right now. I’m not taking it off the table in the future, or even later today, but I don’t want it to be all that we are.” She frowned. “That sounds bad. I’m not saying this right.”

  “I get it.” And he did. “I’m having fun getting to know you. And yeah, the kisses are really nice. But I don’t expect you to sleep with me just because we’re spending time together. And it would be a shame to ruin a friendship by fucking every time it came up.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  She settled on her heels. “Do we have a friendship?”

  “Don’t we?”

  “We do.” Her smile was back. Bright and clear and stealing his breath.

  “Good.” He reached for the phone. “You like pepperoni on your pizza?”

  “Sounds perfect. And, I mean, like I said, the fucking is still okay sometimes, if you’re good with it.”

  He couldn’t help his grin. “I’m certainly not going to complain.”

  THE PIZZA WAS GONE, and it was late. Mason was enjoying the conversation. He was also trying to tell his dick to back down. Now wasn’t the time. Intellectually he understood Ginny’s request. Physically, his body wasn’t having it.

  That was his problem, not hers. But that didn’t mean he minded the way she leaned her weight into him without thought.

  “Why psychology?” he asked.

  “I’m fascinated with the human mind.” Her answer came quickly, as so many had over the last few hours.

  “Did you get a lot of case studies in your line of work?”

  “No more than you would.”

  He di
dn’t understand. “How do you figure?”

  “The reason either one of us has customers is pretty straightforward.”

  “But the mindset isn’t. A guy watches a stripper, it’s because he wants to see naked women. The why is the case study. Someone calls IT and it’s because they want their computer fixed.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched up in an unformed smile. “So why do some of them yell at you, and others buy you lunch when you solve their issue? It’s not because the quality of your work varies that widely from one job to the next.”

  “Sometimes people have a bad day, or a good one, and some people just want to be liked... Okay, I see your point.”

  She relaxed further, resting against his arm. “What would you have done if you didn’t go into IT, career-wise?”

  “Is this you trying to analyze me?” he teased. A few days ago he hated the idea of her climbing inside his head. Now it didn’t seem like a big deal. She wasn’t trying to break him, just understand him. The feeling went both ways.

  “This is me being curious.”

  “My degree is in art history,” he said.

  She laughed. “No kidding? My minor in anthropology. Studying classic art was one of my favorite things. The history of human sexuality is up there too.”

  This was nice. It was better than nice. It was in depth. Probing... He jerked his mind back before his body could yank it into a barrage of fantasy and memory. “I was going to say an appreciation for the human form.”

  “Is that what you call it?” She smirked. “Sounds like a bit of a cop-out. Glossing over the reality of naked classic art.”

  “I’m not talking about stone statues that are faceless and all belly and boobs.” He was thinking about them, though. Great. Classic art was adding to his horniness. He was an asshole.

  “Sorry if I’m not convinced.” She didn’t sound sorry, but the softness in her eyes made it look like she wanted to be.

  “There’s a beauty in the human form. The way the legs connect to the hips—” he trailed his gaze up her thighs as he spoke “—the curve of the waist and the way it flows into the breasts—” he followed the path he described with his eyes “—the way your lips purse when you’re focused...” He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and traced along her bottom lip, reveling in her silent gasp. “Da Vinci, Raphael, Rubens, and Hefner saw that.”