Read Online Take Me Deeper by Jackie Ashenden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jackie Ashenden
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turning up.
Then she’d screwed up at a drop-off—she still wasn’t sure how, though she was pretty sure Dylan had somehow engineered it—and the cops had arrested her. And things had gone from bad to worse.
So here she was and it was even worse, because now she had another protective asshole she didn’t trust to deal with.
Iris took a surreptitious glance at the protective asshole in question.
He was focusing on the highway in front of them, the strong lines of his face drawn tight with concentration, the setting sun coming through the window, giving the short, black thickness of his hair an almost blue tint. There was black shadow along his jaw, too, highlighting the hard angle of it.
For some odd reason, she had the sudden burning desire to run her fingertips along it, feel the prickliness of it against her skin.
Yeah, desire was something else she shouldn’t trust either.
Clenching her hands on her bag instead, she forced the feeling away.
She was pissed that he’d made her tell him about Jamie. After what had happened she’d been careful not to tell anyone about her little sister.
Except now Zane-the-asshole-bounty-hunter knew.
She shouldn’t have said anything, of course. She should have pushed down her shock at the way he’d made her think he’d been up for that blow job and just gone ahead and done it. He wouldn’t have been so interested in why she’d been running drugs for the cartel if she had. Sadly though, she
had
been shocked. Not because she hadn’t wanted to do it, but because a hot thrill had coursed all the way down her spine the moment he’d stared down at her and said the words.
She’d
wanted
to do it, no question, and yeah, that was a shock. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted to do that. Sure, she’d given out plenty before Dylan had come along, but all of them had been because she’d wanted something else out of the guy concerned, not because she actually wanted to suck his dick. Zane though…He was different and she didn’t quite understand why.
One thing she did understand though: he made her feel deeply uncomfortable.
“Got a problem?”
Iris blinked. “What?”
“You’re staring at me.” A flash of deep sapphire caught her as he flicked her a glance. “Regretting we didn’t have time for that blow job?”
She could feel her forehead trying to wrinkle up in an inevitable scowl so she tried to smooth it out instead. No point giving him more ammunition. “Aww, you made a joke,” she replied tartly. “How cute.”
One side of that long, hard mouth quirked in an almost-smile, making her heart give a strange little beat inside her chest. “Something tells me you haven’t had many men take you up on that offer before.”
Was he kidding? It was probably best that he didn’t know exactly how many men had. He’d probably have an aneurysm. “Shows you how much you know.”
He shot her another glance, his gaze narrow. “Then why were you so shocked?”
Dammit. How had he seen that? She normally kept herself together way better than she was doing now. “Because you seem like the prudish type.”
His gaze narrowed further. Then he looked back at the road again, and unexpectedly that fascinating mouth of his quirked again, making her heart give another little kick. “Prudish, huh?”
There were currents of heat in his voice she wished she hadn’t noticed, layers of suggestion in the words she didn’t want to hear, so she dragged her gaze away from his face and stared out the front again instead. “So where’s this office of yours?” It was a blatant change of subject, but she didn’t want to explore her reasons for doing so. She just didn’t want to talk about blow jobs anymore.
“You call me prudish and yet you’re the one changing the subject,” he murmured. “Interesting.”
Annoyance coiled inside her. “Hey, I just want to know when we’re going to get to the place where I’ll apparently be safe. Sorry if
Then she’d screwed up at a drop-off—she still wasn’t sure how, though she was pretty sure Dylan had somehow engineered it—and the cops had arrested her. And things had gone from bad to worse.
So here she was and it was even worse, because now she had another protective asshole she didn’t trust to deal with.
Iris took a surreptitious glance at the protective asshole in question.
He was focusing on the highway in front of them, the strong lines of his face drawn tight with concentration, the setting sun coming through the window, giving the short, black thickness of his hair an almost blue tint. There was black shadow along his jaw, too, highlighting the hard angle of it.
For some odd reason, she had the sudden burning desire to run her fingertips along it, feel the prickliness of it against her skin.
Yeah, desire was something else she shouldn’t trust either.
Clenching her hands on her bag instead, she forced the feeling away.
She was pissed that he’d made her tell him about Jamie. After what had happened she’d been careful not to tell anyone about her little sister.
Except now Zane-the-asshole-bounty-hunter knew.
She shouldn’t have said anything, of course. She should have pushed down her shock at the way he’d made her think he’d been up for that blow job and just gone ahead and done it. He wouldn’t have been so interested in why she’d been running drugs for the cartel if she had. Sadly though, she
had
been shocked. Not because she hadn’t wanted to do it, but because a hot thrill had coursed all the way down her spine the moment he’d stared down at her and said the words.
She’d
wanted
to do it, no question, and yeah, that was a shock. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted to do that. Sure, she’d given out plenty before Dylan had come along, but all of them had been because she’d wanted something else out of the guy concerned, not because she actually wanted to suck his dick. Zane though…He was different and she didn’t quite understand why.
One thing she did understand though: he made her feel deeply uncomfortable.
“Got a problem?”
Iris blinked. “What?”
“You’re staring at me.” A flash of deep sapphire caught her as he flicked her a glance. “Regretting we didn’t have time for that blow job?”
She could feel her forehead trying to wrinkle up in an inevitable scowl so she tried to smooth it out instead. No point giving him more ammunition. “Aww, you made a joke,” she replied tartly. “How cute.”
One side of that long, hard mouth quirked in an almost-smile, making her heart give a strange little beat inside her chest. “Something tells me you haven’t had many men take you up on that offer before.”
Was he kidding? It was probably best that he didn’t know exactly how many men had. He’d probably have an aneurysm. “Shows you how much you know.”
He shot her another glance, his gaze narrow. “Then why were you so shocked?”
Dammit. How had he seen that? She normally kept herself together way better than she was doing now. “Because you seem like the prudish type.”
His gaze narrowed further. Then he looked back at the road again, and unexpectedly that fascinating mouth of his quirked again, making her heart give another little kick. “Prudish, huh?”
There were currents of heat in his voice she wished she hadn’t noticed, layers of suggestion in the words she didn’t want to hear, so she dragged her gaze away from his face and stared out the front again instead. “So where’s this office of yours?” It was a blatant change of subject, but she didn’t want to explore her reasons for doing so. She just didn’t want to talk about blow jobs anymore.
“You call me prudish and yet you’re the one changing the subject,” he murmured. “Interesting.”
Annoyance coiled inside her. “Hey, I just want to know when we’re going to get to the place where I’ll apparently be safe. Sorry if
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