Hijacked

by Sidda Lee Tate

  He gave a low chuckle, removing his hand from between her legs. “You got my hand wet.”

  “Mmm.” Sharon raised her head and met his eyes as he lifted his dripping fingers to her lips and traced them. The juice left in their trail cooled with his breath, their mouths centimeters apart. She quivered with an aftershock and stuck out her tongue, licking the length of his fingers. His mouth parted and he moaned. She clamped her lips around the digits and slowly took them in and back out.

  “Holy shit,” he groaned and knotted his hands in her hair, bringing their mouths together. As their tongues swirled and massaged, their hands frantically searched the other’s body.

  Thoughts of not wanting to be away from him went through her mind, and she pushed him away. Heaving for air, hearts out-of-control, they both stared at each other.

  “I…” She gasped for air, not able to finish her sentence.

  “Sharon?” a woman’s voice called. Kayla. “Are you in here?”

  * * * *

  Kyle left Night approximately five minutes after her boss’s girlfriend came bursting in the storage room looking for her. They each carried a case out and set them behind the counter, and then he took off. Two miles down the road, he wanted to turn around. Shit! He’d lost his damn mind. That woman, Sharon Blake, had made him crazy. Never in his life had he done that to a woman, finger fucked her in a storage room, or anywhere else for that matter, and then left without saying a word. But he didn’t know what to do, how to handle the situation. He’d had a few lovers and a one-night stand or two before meeting his wife, but nothing like that. Maybe that was how things were now. How would he know? He’d been with the same woman since he was twenty, four years of dating, five years of marriage—nearly a third of his life.

  He slowed the truck and pulled off to the shoulder, considering making a u-turn and heading back to Night. In his rush to leave, he’d forgotten all about meeting Vic, his accountant and friend. A good excuse to make another appearance, but he could call Vic or send him a text. He didn’t have to show. It wasn’t like Vic would be worried or some bullshit like that.

  “Damn it!” He slammed his palms into the steering wheel at the thought of her. Sharon Blake. The sweet taste of her pussy, the remainder of what he’d taken from her own mouth, lingered on his tongue. He wanted—no, he needed more of her. Shit! He couldn’t think straight.

  Kyle hit the gas and peeled on to the road. Less than ten minutes later he pulled in his drive. Another mile of gravel and he would be home.

  * * * *

  “Who was that?” Kayla asked. She was sitting on a stool at the end of the bar. Her eyes were wide and curious, and Sharon had a hard time meeting them.

  “Just some guy,” Sharon lied. He wasn’t some guy. He was…well, she really didn’t know how to explain him. A stranger, a bar patron, a man she was drawn to from the second she saw him. She gave her head a quick shake as if she could toss him out, and placed two mixed drinks and three beers on her waitress tray. “He was helping me.”

  She searched the room for him, trying not to make it obvious how bothered she was when he was nowhere in sight. Bothered and confused. She hated it. He was right, she didn’t know him. But why in the hell was she craving his skin against hers? Why did she want to know more about him? It wasn’t her style. She liked to fuck—no emotion, no feeling, no longing, and no regret. But there it was staring her in the face, foreign-like sentiments nagging at her brain.

  Kayla laughed. “I can only imagine what he was helping you with.” She sipped on her glass of ice-water. “The way you were both out of breath…ha, your face is still a little flush.”

  Sharon closed her lids for a second to rid her thoughts of the loitering heat and uncertainty he’d caused. Where in the hell did he go? “He was helping me with some boxes. Ty wasn’t here yet and Gannon needed more beer.”

  “That’s your story?” Kayla shifted in her chair and gathered her dark hair, draping it across her left shoulder. “Because when I got here, Luke told me he hadn’t seen you in a while.”

  It took Sharon a second for it to register that Kayla was referring to Gannon. Sheesh. Ever since they got together Kayla had been calling him Luke. Something about high school and the person he was and some bullshit about true love. Ugh! Sharon’s brow furrowed and she pressed her lips together. “Don’t do it, Kayla. Don’t give me the third degree.”

  The expression on Kayla’s face went from curious to surprise. She cocked her head slightly. “I’m just messing with you. Why in the hell are you being so defensive?”

  Sharon softened her tone. “I’m sorry. I…I need this job. And I was on break…please don’t tell Gannon.” She scanned the crowd and noticed Vic and Missy sitting at the back corner table and knew she’d found a cure to get Kyle Phillips out of her thoughts. Hell, she could still feel his fingers working inside her. She clinched the walls of her center and shivered. “It won’t happen again.”

  Kayla smiled and with her fingers, made the motion of locking her lips. “I won’t say a word.”

  Sharon sighed with relief. “Will you do me another favor?”

  “Depends.”

  “Will you take over my shift for about an hour? There’s something I need to take care of.”

  “What about Luke? He’ll want to know where you are, there’s only one other waitress tonight.”

  “On my nights off, you’ve filled in plenty of times. Please. Do you really think he will question anything you do? He’s so whipped it’s pathetic.” Sharon laughed.

  Kayla pressed her lips to a thin line. “He. Is. Not. Whipped. Just hurry. Where do these drinks go?” She motioned to the full tray and got to her feet.

  “Table seven. Thanks so much.” Sharon took a few steps away from the counter and turned around. “Don’t you want to know what I need to do?”

  Kayla glanced toward the back of the room to the table occupied by Missy and Vic then back to Sharon. “I have a pretty good idea.”

  Chapter 2

  By the time Sharon made it to Missy and Vic’s table, Stone Larson had taken a seat next to Missy. He’d joined them a few times in the past, making their threesome a full-blown orgy. Tonight though, the way Missy had turned her chair to face him and flipped her bright red hair, eyes lusting, Sharon knew it would be one of those nights when Missy would leave Vic to fend for himself, which was great for Sharon. She didn’t have the energy for anything other than getting thoughts of what happened in the storage room with Kyle pounded out of her, and she knew Vic was perfect for the job.

  She moved behind Vic and leaned over, her hands pressed against her thighs and her lips at his ear. “You’re out on a Saturday?”

  He turned and gave her an amused look. “Meeting a friend.”

  “Stone?” Sharon asked, suddenly wishing she had delivered the drinks she’d conned Kayla into taking. She didn’t want to be part of their circle, not tonight. Not while he was on her mind. And standing there talking to Vic, she realized that maybe she didn’t want Kyle Phillips out of her head. Not completely. Maybe just while she was at work. Only then would she be able to concentrate.

  “No, not Stone. Someone I didn’t think would show anyway.”

  Sharon’s gaze went to Missy who was leaning into Stone, her hand busy under the concealment of the table, his face tense and gratified at the same time. “Missy is definitely occupied.”

  “Am I interrupting?”

  Sharon darted her eyes toward the direction of the faintly familiar voice and recoiled from Vic as if he’d stung her. Kyle stood across from them, hands gripping the back of an empty chair.

  Vic stood and held out a hand, giving Kyle’s a quick shake. “I’d about given up on you. Thought you were for sure gonna puss-out again.”

  “Almost did, but hell, I figured might as well dive in.” Kyle’s eyes held fast on Sharon. “You know, get my fingers wet first.” He grinned at her, that charming crooked grin she’d seen before, and even though she hated smart-ass words, she co
uldn’t stop her chest from fluttering at that smile of his. And she hated that even more.

  Sharon followed Vic’s eyes to Missy who was oblivious to everyone around her except Stone…who was elbow deep in her skirt. Vic’s shoulders dropped slightly, and he turned and took Sharon’s hand, pulling her up next to him. “This is my girlfriend, Missy. I’ve mentioned her before, haven’t I?”

  What? What! Was he referring to her? He was calling her Missy? Sharon jerked her head to meet Vic’s expression for an answer.

  His arm went around her waist and his finger pressed just under her chin. He leaned into her ear and whispered. “Close your mouth, darling, and go with it. I’ll explain later.”

  “Missy?” Kyle asked, his face hardened, jaws tight. Then as quick as a snap his features softened. “Nice to meet you.”

  Sharon forced a grin, scanning the room, anything to keep from looking at Kyle. Everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. She heard muttering bits of conversation from the two men as she watched Missy move from the table, taking Stone by the hand and leading him out the door. Kayla shot Sharon an urgent glance. Lights from the stage beamed through the smoky air. Gannon filled drink orders from behind the counter. People, there were people everywhere.

  She shifted her eyes to Vic. “I need to talk to you.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “Can it wait, dear?”

  Sharon moved back and took his forearm. “No, it can’t.” She turned to Kyle and grimaced at the you-could-be-so-busted-right-now grin on his face. “Sorry, this will only take a minute.” She tugged at Vic’s arm. “Come with me.”

  Once they were standing in the bathroom hallway, she folded her arms across her chest. “What the fuck was that about? Why did you tell him I’m Missy?” She hated that she even cared.

  Vic’s hands balled into fists. His face was tight and stressed. “Because I’m his accountant and he doesn’t know the situation of my relationship with her. Hell, I’m not even sure I do.”

  “So you just lied to him?”

  “I panicked.”

  “I guess the fuck you did.”

  “Please go along with this.”

  “I’m leaving.” Sharon moved past him and turned back around. “Tell him whatever the hell you want.”

  * * * *

  Sharon sat in her car and stared at the neon navy-blue sign that spelled Night, not certain if she was running from Vic and his stupidity or Kyle and the way she dreaded him thinking she was someone’s girlfriend. She sighed and started the car. Remembering she was only supposed to be gone for an hour and Kayla would be looking for her, she sent a text apologizing and headed home.

  The car idled in front of her driveway. She couldn’t pull in. She didn’t want to be at home. She was never at home by ten-thirty on a Saturday and she wouldn’t be tonight. Hitting the gas, she peeled away and went to the all-night diner at the edge of town where she could eat pie and drink coffee and find some peace.

  Opening the door, a small bell alerted the lone waitress someone was there. Sharon took a seat in a booth at the back and ordered a coffee while she looked over the menu. The diner was small, four booths lined two walls and there was only space for three tables in the center of the room. A light flickered overhead, humming.

  The waitress delivered her coffee and Sharon ordered a piece of chocolate fudge pie. Not that she was hungry, she wasn’t, and as much as she loved sweets, she didn’t usually eat them, but she figured the entire night had been out-of-order so why not finish it out with something that would make her stomach happy.

  Once the slice of chocolate goodness was staring back at her, she took a small bite, savoring the sweetness, and leaned back against the cushioned seat. She dug through her purse and pulled out the romance novel she’d started reading earlier in the week. Within minutes she was lost in the pages, just stopping long enough to sip coffee or get another mouthful of smooth chocolate.

  Five chapters later, on the outer limits of her thoughts she heard someone talking, saying a name over and over again. Keeping her eyes on the page in front of her, she tuned in to the voice, a man’s.

  Familiar.

  Kyle.

  Shit!

  “Missy or Sharon?” His voice echoed in her head.

  She closed her eyes, forcing her lids to block her sight, she told herself it was not happening. Kyle was not standing a foot away from her table. He was not giving her that damn crooked smile that made her heart do crazy things under her chest walls—flutters and flips she couldn’t control. She heard movement, heard someone slide into the seat across from her. She released the breath she’d been holding. Continuing to convince herself that if she didn’t see him, he wasn’t really there, she lifted the book directly in front of her face and opened her eyes to the black print that no longer looked like formed words but jumbled letters scattered across the page.

  Her plate scooted across the table. The fork clinked against the cheap white glass on which her half-eaten slice of pie sat. She gnawed on the inside of her lip. Was he seriously eating her pie?

  “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” he asked.

  She flinched at his voice and turned a page as if she could make sense of the printed words.

  “Does Vic know you’re here?” he asked, lightly tapping the fork against the plate.

  Sharon lowered the book, laying it on the table, and met his eyes. In the light of the diner the blue in them was more intense than what she recalled. And they were smoldering and sexy as hell, and the way they watched her made the inside of her thighs quake. She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to literally crawl across the top of the table and straddle him where he sat. She wanted to tell him the truth about her and Vic—that it was nothing but a fabrication he’d made up to save his pride because the real Missy was busy getting pounded by Stone Larson—but she figured it wasn’t her cover to blow, so instead she said, “Vic doesn’t control me.”

  “I didn’t mean to insinuate that he does. I meant that maybe he would be worried.”

  She picked up her cup and sipped at her coffee. Cold. She frowned and looked at her watch, she’d been reading for over two hours. “Vic’s fine. He’s probably drunk and has forgotten about me.” She waved at the waitress and held up the mug for a refill. “What are you doing here?”

  He drummed his fingers on the table. “I live just down the road. Stopped in for a quick snack, and then I saw you. I couldn’t walk away without saying hello.”

  “But you haven’t said hello, not yet, or was that it…you saying hello?”

  “I guess that was it.”

  “So now you’re leaving.” Sharon picked up the novel and opened it. “It was good to see you.” She flipped through the pages, not that she knew where she’d left off. The nearness of him had left her mind scrambled.

  Kyle pushed the plate away and leaned toward the center of the table. His face went serious, his voice low and husky. “I’m not leaving until you do.”

  Sharon’s heart raced. She swallowed hard, certain his only interest in her was what had happened between them in the storage room. Not for her. With him, it was different and she hated it. The feeling of her emotions being exposed was frightening. And the fact that she even cared he was sitting across from her, staring, soaking in her every move, waiting for permission to finish what they started, unnerved her even more.

  She peeked over the top of the book, not surprised to find him watching her, but shocked that it wasn’t a stare of pure lust. His eyes held a combination of curiosity and fascination, making her uncomfortable…in a good way. Something she’d never experienced before. Something, if she fell for, she was certain would leave her broken. “You’re still here.”

  He sat back against the seat, still holding the fork…her fork, twisting it between his fingers. Eyes solidly focused on hers, he smiled. “We need more pie.”

  “What?” She glanced down at her plate. Empty.

  “And coffee.” He motioned to the waitr
ess who had yet to refill Sharon’s cup. The waitress, tall and lanky with short, curly brown hair, appeared immediately at his request. Kyle ordered another slice of chocolate fudge, a cup of coffee for himself, a refill for Sharon, and two forks.

  “I’m good, not hungry.” Sharon closed her book and stuffed it inside her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder. “I’m leaving anyway.”

  Kyle reached across the table, putting his hand on hers. “What else do you do, besides work at Night?”

  Three hours later Sharon had told him about her dream to go to the beach and how she was working at Night to make the extra money for her trip. She told him about her shitty job at the factory and how she hated it. She told him what it was like growing up with a single mom who worked two jobs in order to make ends meet. She told him, she thought, too much about her life.

  They walked out of the diner, into the night, stopping at her car. Kyle’s arms wrapped around her waist, and it felt right, like the palms pressing against her lower back belonged there. Missing pieces to a puzzle she had long since given up on.

  “I should go,” she said without attempting to move from his grasp. Not being next to him seemed wrong.

  “You should,” he whispered, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just under her ear, making her knees wobble and her thoughts scatter. “You should go home with me.”

  She knew the best thing for her would be to run and stay as far away from him as possible. She’d let him in. In the three hours they’d talked, he’d learned more about her than anyone ever had. She couldn’t get emotionally attached. What would that do? Nothing. Nothing but eventually leave her crushed and heartbroken.

  Ignoring the rational thoughts, the ones attempting to save her from the pain she never planned to experience, Sharon kissed him. He pulled her closer, pressing her body against his, and she became aware of the hard cock against her stomach. Her mind went back to hours before, how only his hand between her legs had pleasured her and she wanted more.