Hijacked

by Sidda Lee Tate

  Kyle reached out a hand, resting it in the sensitive spot behind her knee, his thumb caressing her skin. “Are you leaving?”

  Good question. She should, she should run and never look back, she knew that much. Being with him opened her to unfamiliar emotions, frightening ones that left her vulnerable. But she also knew she didn’t want to, not at all. She wanted his skin against hers. She hungered for the feel of his mouth. She craved how his length and thickness filled her center, just the thought made the space between her legs throb.

  As though he’d sensed the ache, their eyes locked, and his hand slid up the back of her thigh and around to the inside, his fingers centimeters away from her pulsing slit. “Because if you’re even thinking about it, I feel I need to persuade you otherwise.”

  She thought back to the shower and shivered knowing she would thoroughly enjoy his method of persuasion. Kyle gave her leg a light tug. With the pounding in her chest quickening, she followed through, stepping closer, her knees against the outside of his leg, spread just enough to allow his fingers access, if he chose. The awareness of his digits so close to her folds making her dizzy, she grabbed a handful of his short, light brown hair and smiled.

  “It’s possible…” Sharon took a deep, shaky breath, already knowing she wouldn’t leave, at least not until she’d had him one last time. “…to sway me.”

  His eyes narrowed, his face went serious, and his hand slipped down her leg, squeezing lightly just above the back of her knee. “First, though, I need you to know…Vic told me.”

  She looked at him, confused, then realized what he was about to say. She sucked in a breath and held it as he spoke.

  “I know you’re not Missy. I’ve known since you left the bar.”

  The information, which normally, would have pissed her off and sent her storming away, was somehow relieving. Since she’d left Vic standing in the hallway at Night, she’d hated the idea of pretending to be Missy, and once she’d seen Kyle at the diner, she wanted to tell him Vic had been lying but decided it wasn’t her place. And now, she didn’t have to, he’d known all along. “Why didn’t you tell me in the diner?”

  “Sharon.” The sound of her name rolling off his tongue caused those damn jerking motions in her chest. His hand clasped a bit stronger around her leg as though she might run. “At first, I thought it might be fun to play with you. It didn’t occur to me until a few minutes ago that I never told you.”

  She chewed on the inside of her lip knowing exactly what he meant. “I should have told you. It was Vic’s idea.” She shook her head, suddenly aware there was no need for excuses or blame. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have gone along with it.”

  “You’re right, it doesn’t matter,” Kyle said, dropping his hand from her leg and raising to his feet.

  Great! He was walking her out. Showing her to the door. Wishing her well. But he was doing none of that. Instead, his hands went to the hem of her camisole and he slipped it over her head. Intent eyes, blue as sapphires, stared back at her, drenching her soul with everything that was him. Without thought, she kicked her flats off as he tugged the skirt over her hips, letting it fall around her feet.

  “Over there,” he said, nodding his head to her right.

  She tore her gaze from his, and her eyes widened as she examined the outdoor canopy bed. Too caught up in him, she hadn’t noticed it before. It was like a dream, like nothing she’d ever seen. Hidden behind thick tropical plants was a teak framed bed with white cotton drapery flowing along each side. The slight breeze catching them made them ripple and wave.

  “I want you over there.” Kyle cupped her breasts, lifting, bringing them together. Thumbs caressing her taut nipples, a low moan escaped him. She matched him with a slight whimper, legs turning to jelly, not certain if she had the strength to make it to the bed. He nibbled her neck. “On your back.” Lips nipped at her ear. “Knees up.” His teeth gently took her bottom lip and lightly tugged. “Legs spread.”

  Sharon nearly came at his commands. As he spoke, the wetness had left the confines of her folds and trickled down the insides of her thighs. She had to concentrate hard to make it to the destination he’d chosen for her, taking great pains to instruct her legs not to buckle. Now, she was on her back, positioned as he’d ordered, her eyes following his every move. He was only taking off his clothes, but it seemed like his movements, the ones that would place his skin against hers, were in slow-motion. She wanted to tell him to hurry, but as she’d found with him, her voice was lost, caught in her pounding chest.

  * * * *

  Lying in the bed with the sun beaming down on her bare skin, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow, Sharon Blake was the most beautiful thing Kyle had ever seen. His stare followed the curves of her body from her plump breasts to the flat plain of her stomach and to her inner thighs glistening with wetness. A tremor went through him at the pink, heated skin of her slit, and he couldn’t wait to taste her. But that would come later, there were a few things he wanted first.

  He’d never been as raw and commanding with a woman as he was with her. And she liked it. He could tell by the way her breath hitched in her throat with every order he gave, the way her eyes widened just a fraction, and the way her hands trembled on his skin. Her hands. His cock twitched at the thought of her hands wrapping his girth.

  “Sharon.” He spoke with his most authoritative voice. Not gruff or loud, only firm.

  She looked at him, eyes questioning and anxious. He liked that, her telling eyes.

  Kyle took off his shirt and dropped it to the red, outdoor rug splayed over the concrete patio. “I want you to rub your clit.” The breath he’d been holding without realizing, escaped slowly with the words. He couldn’t believe he said them but was glad he did.

  Without hesitation, as though she couldn’t wait to feel the heat between her legs, her hand began to move. He watched, cock throbbing, heart hammering as her fingers slid across the flat plain of her stomach, through a narrow patch of light blonde hair, and stopping at the sensitive bud under the thin layers of its casing. She pressed down and with a soft moan began making small circles.

  Her short breaths overheard through the breeze, teased at his ears. Trickles of her liquid shimmered on the pink flesh of her opening. His mouth watered at the sight, and he fought with the urge to take the two short strides that he knew would get his face within drinking distance. Her fingers trailed lower, lightly over her folds, hovering at her opening. Waiting, she was waiting for instruction. Faint whimpers, hands trembling, her eyes begged for it.

  His voice guttural, he said, “Slip them in.”

  And she did. Arching her back with a short, high-pitched yelp of pleasure as her two fingers breached the dripping hole over and over again. The pulse in his swollen member gouging at the thick material behind the zipper of his shorts caused an intense, tormenting pain through his body. Kyle took the condom from the front pocket of his shorts, glad he’d stashed it there “just in case” when he’d left his bedroom earlier. He unzipped and eased out of the shorts, not once taking his eyes from Sharon as he covered his cock. He moved to the edge of the bed—reaching distance. He had to touch her, to taste her, to be in her.

  No longer at battle with his desires, Kyle crawled onto the bed and straight to her center between spread, open legs. He met her thrusting fingers with his tongue and about shot-off right then and there at the taste of her sweetness.

  Her digits disappeared as his took over, sliding and twisting through her moist heat, walls clinching. Her hips bucked as he worked her entrance and mounded clit. She raised up, propping back on one arm as she watched, her shaky whimpers filling his ears.

  “Kyle,” she gasped, sitting all the way up, taking both of her hands behind his head, lifting his mouth from her slit and drawing him toward her face, her green eyes begging to be fucked.

  He crushed his lips to hers, tongue diving deep, eager. Mouths locked, she pulled him in, arms pressing in his shoulder blades as she lay b
ack taking his weight. Her legs hugged at his hips, ankles latching behind his back, leaving her wide open. He slid in halfway, gasping. Worried he would come, he tried to pull out. But she held fast, moving quick against him, taking him completely with a bursting yelp. Her tight walls pulsed against his cock, and he began to thrust. Her hips bucked in rhythm with his, nails dug into his back. He groaned, driving harder.

  Rising to his knees, Kyle gripped her hips and lifted her ass from the mattress, guiding her, slamming into the pink flesh. Sharon’s head went back, exposing the soft skin under her chin as she cried out, hands knotting the white cotton sheets, her blonde hair fanned. A sight he could never get used to but wanted to spend forever trying. He shuddered. Sweat trickled down his brow, his breath had been lost for a while, and his nuts begged to blow, hurt even, but he had to hold off until she was spent and convulsing around his cock, only then would he release.

  He pushed her legs back, tilting her hips up, and slammed in over and over, watching her eyes glaze over then roll back. Her chest heaved, and she screamed out, trembling. Her walls seizing against his shaft sent shards of current through him and he released with a long, guttural groan. Muscles twitching, bones wilting, Kyle collapsed over Sharon, kissing as much of her face as he could before falling next to her on the mattress.

  * * * *

  They lay on the bed, facing each other as the sun beamed down on their skin. Sharon smiled at Kyle’s crooked grin…so adorable. She reached up and raked her hand through his thick, disarrayed hair.

  “I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” he said, rising to prop back on his elbows.

  Sharon glanced around to the pool, the foliage, the outdoor canopy bed they were resting on, and the large, glass-walled house behind her. Of course he’d never met anyone like her…people with money didn’t cohort with factory workers or waitresses or people who worked two jobs just to make ends meet or people who’d never been to the ocean…

  He broke off her thoughts. “Are you hungry?”

  Sharon nodded. “I could eat.” The last thing she’d eaten was a couple of bites of pie at the diner, before that, she couldn’t remember.

  Kyle smiled, leaned over to kiss her forehead, and rolled off the bed. “I make a mean hoagie. It won’t take long.” He slipped the cargos over his hips and buttoned them as he walked away.

  Sharon laid on her back for a few seconds watching the linen curtains billow in the wind. The smell of chlorine filled the air. The faint sound of water splashing against the stone lined pool filled her ears. The most perfect man she’d ever met was on the other side of the wall fixing her a sandwich. Her chest swelled and she closed her eyes tight. It was too much. As a whole, everything she’d experienced since meeting him was too good to be true. Something trickled down either of her temples and she sat straight up. What the hell? “You can’t cry,” she mumbled to herself and slipped off the bed, wiping her face.

  A cigarette. That was all she needed. She palmed the side of her head. No wonder her brain was out-of-whack, she hadn’t smoked since before she walked in the diner. Damn it! She needed to smoke. She needed to think. She grabbed her clothes and slipped them on.

  “I’ll have to run to town real fast. Out of bread. Do you want to go?” Kyle stopped halfway between Sharon and the door. His face fell. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She realized if it was that obvious she was freaking out, she needed to calm herself, and fast. “I just need a cigarette.” She smiled and glanced at the pool a few feet away. “And maybe a swim.”

  In an instant he was rushing at her and wrapped his hand to the back of her head. Taking a fistful of hair, his mouth claimed hers. His tongue slipped through her lips, massaging, making her heart hammer. She ran her hands up his arms and across his bare shoulders, pulling him closer. In one quick motion, keeping his mouth on hers, he picked her up and she latched her ankles behind his waist. Screw the cigarette, she wanted more of him.

  His lips turned up to a broad smile and he gave the tip of her nose a light peck. “Forgive me?”

  “For what?” She leaned in to kiss him again, but before her lips were able to meet their own bliss, he gripped her waist tight and jumped. Sharon screamed with surprise as they plummeted into the pool.

  Chapter 5

  Kyle sat at the bar in his kitchen staring at his cup of coffee. It was 9 AM. Only twelve hours since she’d left his house, and he missed her. More than he should for someone he’d known less than twenty-four hours. He’d never believed in instant connection. All of his adult life, he’d scoffed at the movies and books where people met and somehow knew in that moment they needed the person across from them. But there he was, aching for the woman he felt like he knew…had fallen for…the second he’d seen her.

  He gazed up through the glass wall to the row of trees at the edge of his backyard. On the other side there were over a thousand acres, three hundred head of cattle, and four horses that needed tending. He was usually finished feeding animals by eight, and even though the rest of his day’s schedule would be spent checking the fences lining the property, he felt like he was behind.

  It took a couple of hours to unload the hay bales from the trailer and check the cattle for injuries or signs of illness. He headed toward the horse barn, opting to ride Molly, his champion rope horse, to inspect the fencing verses taking the four-wheeler. He hadn’t been on her in weeks because of the heat and it was the first day since that the temperature was forecasted to stay under ninety degrees.

  “Hey, pretty girl.” Kyle patted and rubbed her neck as she stuck her head over the stall door. “How do you feel about going for a ride today?”

  Molly nickered as if understanding his words. He laughed, certain if she could speak she would sound like a giddy little girl.

  “I need a few minutes to pack the saddle bags, and then we’ll saddle you up and take off.”

  Molly threw her head and pawed at the ground.

  “You know what, girl? Screw the fence, let’s have some fun.” He led her from the stall and tossed the saddle on her back. Once the straps were cinched tight, he climbed on, and they eased out of the barn. The sun shone down on her golden coat and her white mane bounced as he brought her to a trot across a sloping field.

  He loved his horses. They were the first animals he put on the farm after he bought it with his inheritance money two years ago. His wife hadn’t wanted him to ‘waste’ the money on land, much less horses, and it had been a major battle, but he won. She put her foot down with cattle. The week after she left him, he went to a huge sale in Texas and purchased most of his herd. The rest were acquired locally, Mississippi born and bred.

  Molly was his favorite animal. As crazy as it sounded, she understood him more than the others. “Let’s go, girl!” He bumped her sides with his heels and she took off in a gallop to the bottom of the hill. Kyle led her to the largest of seven ponds, a lake really, it was eighty-five acres of water and most of it was over fifteen feet deep. He jumped off the horse and tied her up to a tree, loose enough she could graze on the grass beneath her.

  Walking the embankment, he decided to buy a couple of jet skis and build a boat house. Something his wife…ex-wife…would’ve refused. He’d go to Jackson later in the week to look at watercraft. So many things were different without her…he was finally himself. He’d made the house his own, and he’d bought cattle. The marriage had been loveless for years, yet, everything he’d done since their divorce seemed like some type of defiance.

  He leaned over and pressed his hands to his knees as knots formed spasms in his chest. Was she part of it? Sharon. Was she part of the rebellion?

  * * * *

  Sharon planned on going to work—the only reason she had for leaving Kyle’s the night before— but when she woke, she was exhausted and called in for the first time in over a year. She’d spent the day lounging in her cotton pajamas, alternating from the sofa to her bed, carrying with her the romance novel she’d been trying to read when Kyle Ph
illips showed up at the café and flipped her world upside down. She didn’t feel about him like she did the other men she’d been with…he was different, and she didn’t want to play games with him. She didn’t want him for the sole purpose of fucking, although granted, he was the best she’d ever had. There was a connection between them, an undeniable passion that gave her a high when they touched and left her craving him when they weren’t.

  She glanced at the clock on her DVD player and groaned. It was a little after three. She’d successfully wasted an entire day by staring at pages, trying to focus on the story only to be interrupted by thoughts of him. She tossed the book aside, grabbed her phone from the charger, and went outside to smoke.

  There were six missed calls from Kayla, and double that in texts—all of them asking if she was okay. She replied, explaining she was all right and apologizing about her phone still being on silent from when she was at work Saturday night. Kayla wouldn’t be off work at the factory for another hour so Sharon didn’t expect to hear from her until then. She snuffed out her cigarette and went back inside.

  After her shower, she blow dried her hair, pulled it back in a loose ponytail, and applied her mascara. She rummaged through her closet and found her favorite cotton slip dress, sliding it over her head. The pale yellow would show off her tan. It was casual enough she wouldn’t appear dressy, and it went perfect with her bamboo, wedge sandals.

  With one destination in mind, she grabbed her keys and headed out the door.

  She had to see him.

  * * * *

  The car idled at the end of his driveway. On the trip over, she’d felt brave, confident that what she’d felt for him had been mutual and he would have the same need to be with her as she did him. Being a few minutes away from him though, the excitement of having him in reaching distance was overshadowed by fear of refusal, and she thought she might vomit from nervousness. Closing her eyes, she relived every time he’d looked in her eyes, and what it felt like when he’d brushed her hair away from her face. She concentrated hard on how wonderful her name had sounded rolling over his lips.