Hijacked

by Sidda Lee Tate

  Hijacked

  by

  Sidda Lee Tate

  Hijacked

  Copyright © 2013, Sidda Lee Tate

  ISBN: 9781937325596

  Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

  Electronic Publication: March, 2013

  Editor: Pamela Tyner

  Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

  eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Back Cover Copy

  Will an unexpected encounter leave Sharon’s heart hijacked?

  When Sharon Blake meets Kyle Phillips her first instinct is to simply seek the pleasure she’s certain he can give her. But surprisingly, she feels a strong connection with him, something she’s never experienced before, and that conflicts with everything she’s always believed—sex is sex and nothing more.

  The last woman Kyle trusted with his heart betrayed him, and he has no interest in getting involved with anyone. There’s only one problem—now that he’s met Sharon, he craves her touch, her laughter, the look in her eyes when he pulls her near.

  Kyle and Sharon soon realize that being apart isn’t an option. Someone else, though, has different plans for Kyle, and Sharon is left questioning everything he’s told her. Kyle tries to explain, to make things right again, but Sharon doesn’t know if she can trust him, and her instinct is to walk away now before her heart is bruised even further.

  Content Warning: strong language and graphic sex

  Dedication

  For S.W., everyone who knows you…loves you. Always stay wonderful.

  Acknowledgements

  Pamela Tyner, I can’t express my gratitude enough. Your editing skills amaze me. Thank you, thank you, thank you for choosing my stories to be a part of Beachwalk Press.

  To my family, thanks for always being supportive and understanding when I simply can’t step away from the middle of a scene while it’s working overtime in my head. You get my crazy, and I love you all. Jason, your support means everything. I love you.

  Pat Q., your happiness is infectious. Thanks for lifting my spirits and asking everyday if my newest story is finished. You have no idea how encouraging that can be.

  Kellie C. and Paula C., keeping all of my ideas for storylines and characters straight as they pour out of me when we pass by each other at work takes talent. Whether you tell me something will be great or that something sounds a little off, your opinions matter and I treasure your honesty.

  Dana F., you’re like a one woman sales team! I know this because I’ve caught you in the act of literally sitting people down and instructing them on how to download my books. You rock!

  Fantasia Frog Designs, your cover art is beautiful. The work you do amazes me.

  And to romance readers everywhere, thank you for supporting this fabulous genre. Without you, none of this would be possible.

  Chapter 1

  “A little to the left, maybe.” Sharon Blake sighed. The beaded sweat on her brow had begun to seep in her eyes and sting. She stretched her arms and gripped tighter, pulling with all her strength. “Try pushing harder.”

  “The hole is too tight, it will never fit,” her new boss said.

  After years at the factory and not making enough to save for a long overdue vacation to Florida, Sharon had picked up a second job at Night, the only bar in the small town of Pineville. Two weeks later she found herself in the most unexpected position, hating the fact she would have to go home and shower again before the bar opened, and that would make her late. Unless Gannon let her shower and get ready upstairs in his apartment. Maybe he would, especially after this. He would owe her that much.

  “You’re telling me it’s too big?” she asked, stopping to catch her breath. “Gannon, you wanted it. Not me. I just want to wait tables and earn tips. I didn’t sign up for this.”

  “Consider it part of the job.” His breath was short and ragged, and she regretted stopping by when she figured he was alone.

  “This isn’t fair, you know. What about Kayla? Where is she?”

  “Class. Some every Saturday thing she signed up for. She won’t be coming by until later. Damn! Get some lube or something.” His voice was growing frustrated, and she knew it wasn’t directed at her but at the huge glass door refrigerator he’d purchased in order to stock a larger variety of drinks. It wouldn’t fit through the delivery door in the back of the building. On a metal, wheeled cart, it had gotten stuck when the handles that protruded out a few inches made it too wide. She’d walked in at the right…or wrong time and he’d asked her for help. “If that doesn’t work, I guess I’ll have to take the damn doors off!”

  “Why didn’t you just let the company you bought it from deliver it?”

  He mumbled something from the other side of the massive appliance that she couldn’t understand.

  “I can’t hear you,” she yelled louder than she needed to.

  “Auction,” he said more clearly. “I bought it at an auction.”

  “Ha! Does it work?” Sharon threw her hands in the air. “You know what will happen. We will work our asses off getting it inside and it won’t work.”

  “It works.”

  “Oh. My. God. I so wish I hadn’t stopped by early to see if you needed help stocking. You know, I looked good ten minutes ago. Now? Not so much. I’m not gonna make shit for tips looking like this.”

  “You look great,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

  “Fuck you, Gannon. You can’t even see me over this monstrosity of a refrigerator.” She shoved on it as if her body weight alone could move it from the doorjamb. “Can we at least get it back outside for tonight? I’ll get my brother, Scott, to help you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. Good idea. Hey, I hate to ask—”

  Sharon interrupted, “God, bless. Yes. I’ll push.”

  * * * *

  Sharon rushed through the back door at Night and straight to Gannon who was popping the lid off a Corona. “I can’t believe I’m only three minutes late.”

  Gannon glanced over her clothes and crumpled his brow. “I should send you home.”

  “What?”

  “The serving staff wears white and black, Sharon. You know the rules.” He turned to a man who’d walked up to the bar. “What can I get you?”

  Sharon followed with her eyes, her core twitching at the sight of the customer. He was tall with light brown hair, broad shoulders, and full lips. The depth in his electric blue eyes caught her off guard, and she was forced to tell herself to breathe.

  “Coors Light in a bottle,” the man said, his voice breaking her stare.

  She swallowed hard and focused on Gannon, shooting him an angry stare. Was he serious about her clothes? After he handed the man his drink, Gannon turned to face her.

  “This is as close to a white top that I could find. One that was clean anyway. And I was already dressed for work when you decided I should help you with that damn refrigerator. This…” Sharon gave her baby blue camisole a short tug. “…is all your fault, you know.”

  Gannon held his hands up in surrender, his smile reaching his eyes. “Okay, okay. Fine. If I’d known you would get your panties in a twist...”

  Sharon smoothed her short, black skirt, knowing how easy it would be to embarrass him by telling him she wasn’t wearing panties. Instead, she gave him her most impassive look and said, “Never speak about my panties. And I’ll take my regular section, thank you very much.” She grabbed a serving tray from behind the counter and walke
d away.

  * * * *

  The small blonde waitress placed a third beer on the table in front of him. Her tits were at eye level, nipples looking tight as stones poked at the thin material of her top. The first time Kyle saw her behind the bar he knew she would be hard to forget. Lucky for him, she was his server.

  “Two-fifty,” she said, smiling. “Are you gonna drink those?” She pointed to the full bottles in front of him.

  “Waiting for some friends. Check back with me in a few minutes.” He handed her a five dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

  “Thanks.” Her chest swelled, perfect mounds inches from his face. The light blue v-neck, lace top she wore was held up by thin straps. It was cut low, giving him a peek at what lie beneath. As she turned and sauntered to the bar, he couldn’t help but stare.

  She propped her elbows on the countertop and leaned over. Her round ass in the air had him practically salivating, and no matter how hard he tried, his eyes would only divert for a second before finding their way back to her.

  He watched as the bartender handed her a shot, and she tossed it back. As if she sensed him gawking, the waitress turned her head, propping her chin on her shoulder, and grinned.

  Leaving the bar, she walked straight over to him, taking a seat in the chair next to his as though it were hers all along. “Why are you watching me?” she asked matter-of-factly, which made him cough in surprise. Was it that obvious? “You ordered at the bar first, right?”

  “I…um,” he stuttered and gave up on an explanation.

  She smiled again, most likely at catching him off guard. He decided drinking the beer in front of him wouldn’t be a bad idea and grabbed one of the bottles, chugged half, and sat it down. He eyed her with curiosity and pressed his nervous, sweating palms against his jeans.

  Say something! “How long have you been here?”

  She arched her left eyebrow. “You mean as in, tonight?”

  “Working here, as in days, weeks, months, years.”

  “A few weeks.” She crossed one leg over the other, hiking the already short, black skirt up her thigh, exposing more of her silky skin. Her eyes narrowed. “I’m on my break.”

  “And you chose to spend it with me?”

  She shrugged her right shoulder and picked up a pack of cigarettes from the table he hadn’t noticed her put there when she sat. She lit one, the flame from the lighter making it possible for him to notice her eyes had a green tint to them. “Your table is empty.”

  He playfully scoffed, amused at her excuse. There were at least six unoccupied tables in the room. “When does the band start?”

  She looked down at her watch. Silver with rhinestones, it fit loose like a bracelet. “In about an hour. They start at ten. What’s your name?”

  He drank another quarter of the beer. “Kyle Phillips. You?”

  “Sharon Blake.” She reached up and pulled her long hair from the back of her neck and let it fall. “Is this your first time here? I’ve never seen you around. Are you from Pineville?”

  Kyle cleared his throat. She was making observations, asking questions. He’d been divorced for three months, but this was his first time at a bar since meeting his ex-wife nine years ago, and he wasn’t certain if he should explain his situation—a fresh divorcé. He decided to go with direct answers. “I live about three miles outside of town. And no, I don’t get out much.”

  “Huh.” She tugged on the cigarette and then snuffed the rest of it out in an ashtray at the center of the table. “I’m trying to quit.”

  “Six years smoke free for me. It was one of the hardest things I’ve done.”

  She eyed him carefully. “Are you meeting someone?”

  “A friend. He should be here any time.” Kyle peeled his gaze from her and scanned the growing crowd through the dimly lit room, suddenly hoping his friend didn’t show for a while. He gulped more beer. “How long are you on break?”

  “I’ve got a few minutes.” Her eyes moved over him and he wondered how evident it was that he wanted to taste her skin. “Why do you ask?”

  “I thought I might get you something to drink. But then, if you work here—”

  “My drinks are free.” She laughed and reached for his stash of untouched beer. “Do you mind?” The waitress…Sharon…didn’t wait for an answer before popping the top and taking a sip. “Kyle Phillips, I need your help.”

  “My help?”

  “Please. See that guy over there?” She pointed to the man mixing a drink behind the bar, the same guy who had given her the shot just before she took a seat at Kyle’s table. “That’s my boss, Gannon, and he’s swamped. Ty, the other bartender, doesn’t get here for half an hour and Gannon needs a couple of cases of beer brought to the front. He asked me to help out as soon as I got off break.” She stood and smoothed her skirt. It was short and tight, hugging her small hips, and he wanted to tear it off her. His pulse accelerated when she grabbed his hand from the table. “Come on. I can get you a few free drinks for reimbursement.”

  * * * *

  Sharon led the way, glancing back a few times to make sure he was following as they went through a door behind the bar. He was the most manly-looking man she’d ever seen in person—broad chest and shoulders, a handsome, chiseled face with a five o’clock shadow, and striking blue eyes. And his hands…big with long thick fingers, ah, she wanted them on her. She’d noticed him staring at her when she first came to work, and once she set Gannon straight on his stupid uniform rules, her awareness went directly to Kyle. Not that she had any choice in the matter, his presence commanded attention without him even trying. And he didn’t try. In fact, he seemed a little unsure of himself.

  He’d been watching her too though. She’d caught him several times. And the drinks, he was ordering them without taking so much as a sip from the previous one.

  She led him to the back of the storage room. The single bulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling put off a dingy glow, enough to cast shadows along the red, bricked walls. “There they are.” She pointed to a small stack of boxes. “They need to go up front.”

  “How many?” he asked. His voice was deep and smooth rolling from his full lips.

  “Three.” She stepped in between the boxes and his reaching hands, grasping his forearms, immediately noticing the tight muscles under his skin. His body went rigid, as if he were surprised she’d touched him. “Don’t take them yet. I’m still on my break.” Sharon smiled and cocked her head to the side, giving him her I’m-yours-for-the-taking look.

  He gave a sideways grin Sharon found charming. “Then why did you ask me back here?”

  Maybe he wasn’t reading her as well as she hoped. She straightened her neck and gave him her normal, everyday smile, hoping the craving for him shown through in her eyes. “I like you.” Holding his arms, Sharon guided them around her until the warmth of his skin settled on her ass cheeks.

  He drew his head back, questioning with his eyes, but his hands stayed firm on her backside. “You don’t know me.”

  “I don’t have to. I know what I like when I see it. And I go for it.” She slid her arms between their bodies, moving her hands up his lean torso and around the back of his neck. Her hard nipples grazed his chest sending a tickle up her spine. “Don’t you?”

  “Are you telling me to go for what I want?” He spoke low, almost a whisper.

  One of his hands left her ass and went to her shoulder. He traced down her side with the tips of his fingers. The sensation of his touch through the thin fabric of her camisole caused a shallow whimper to leave her lips.

  “And what is it you think I want?” he asked.

  She swallowed hard, taken aback by the sensation of his closeness, shocked she couldn’t speak. Her voice had left her, something that never happened.

  The hand on her ass squeezed gently as the one running down her side made it to the hem of her skirt. His fingers teased her inner thigh, and she was wet in an instant. Her center throbbed, sending shudders up her body, and
her breath caught.

  “What if I want to feel you? Is that something I should go for?” He continued to speak low in her ear, his hot breath making her pulse quicken.

  Speechless, she nodded again when what she really wanted to do was scream Yes! Please!

  “Are you wearing panties?”

  Sharon’s lips managed to form a silent no.

  He smiled the charming, crooked grin that he had before, only this time it showed his craving for her. “Good.” His fingers moved slow, closer to her folds, leaving a tingling trail on her skin. “Open up for me.”

  She did as he requested, spreading her legs, her heart hammering. The hand on her ass moved to the middle of her back and he pressed her harder against him, at the same time sliding his fingers across her slickness, parting her folds. A low throaty moan left her, and she wasn’t sure she was breathing.

  “You feel good,” he growled, cupping her wetness, giving a tight squeeze. His other hand ran up and over the nape of her neck and into her hair, pulling her head back, exposing the sensitive skin under her chin. He quickly covered it with his mouth, at the same time slipping a finger inside her. She whimpered with pleasure, knees weak as he rotated against the walls of her entrance.

  “More?” he asked in a hushed whisper, his lips teasing at her ear.

  She nodded, wanting more, needing more. The air in her lungs burned, begging to be released.

  His cheek pressed against hers, and his harsh breath blowing in her hair sent shivers down her spine. He shifted, resting his forehead on hers as another thick digit breached her entrance. Sharon tilted her hips, offering deeper passage, and he took it. Rotating his fingers, he brought them out to the tips then gradually pushed them back in, knuckle deep. Over and over again he worked her center. Her legs were gel, boneless, officially liquefied.

  Pulsing. Everything inside her pulsed as the walls of her center hugged at his fingers plunging in and out, twisting and turning. Her skin rippled in waves, her back arched, and when his teeth nipped at one of her rock hard nipples, she cried out, releasing the upsurge of pleasure, and went limp against his chest, trembling.