Read Online The Preacher's Son #3: Unbroken (Erotic Romance) by Jasinda Wilder - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jasinda Wilder
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for an Aston Martin.
Tre vanished out the door with our things, leaving me alone with Dan, who was beginning to stir. Blood drooled from his jaw, congealed at his nose and covered his neck and shirt front. His bruised, purpling eyes fluttered, and then he jerked awake, struggled against the sheets binding him. They held tight. I scooped the gun up from beneath the chair.
Blind hate flooded through me, now, with Dan bound helpless in front of me. I could get revenge. I pressed the pistol to his head, remembering all the insults, the times he'd slapped me, the hookers, the drugs...
"Do it," Dan slurred. "Shoot me. You know you want to."
I did want to. It would be so easy. I pulled the hammer back with both thumbs, shoved the barrel into his mouth.
Then I felt firm hands pull the gun away from me, felt Tre's hands twist me aside.
"No, Shea. Let's just go. Leave him." Tre guided me to the door and pushed me through it. I heard him do something behind me, then a thump of the gun hitting the floor and Tre's hand touched me on the back.
"What did you do?" I asked.
"Wiped prints off it. I saw an episode of CSI, once, while my folks were out."
He helped me into a car, tan leather seats. Tre slipped in beside me in the driver's seat, started the car with a smooth purr. It wasn't my car, it was Dan's. The Aston Martin. His baby. His pride and joy. I grinned. Having this car stolen would really chap his ass.
Tre drove fast, enjoying the power of the car.
"Slow down, Tre," I said, shock finally wearing off. "This is a stolen car, after all."
"True." He brought the car down to a safe, legal speed.
We drove south in silence for a few miles. After a while, Tre finally glanced at me. He was antsy in the driver's seat, tapping his fingers, eyes flicking. I wasn't sure if he was nervous from having stolen a three hundred thousand dollar car, or if he was flushed with adrenaline from the fight. Both, most likely
"Are you okay?" He asked.
"It was scary. Seeing him...it threw me for a loop. I don't know why he finally showed up after all this time." I tried a smile, didn't quite succeed. "You were amazing, yet again."
Tre grinned at me, but I could see the residual fear still bubbling behind his eyes. "I just, I couldn't let nothin' happen to you, Shea. Not at the hands of that—that—bastard."
"You protected me," I said, feeling the adrenaline kick in now, after the fact, as boiling heat in my belly, a trembling anticipation in my thighs.
I don't know if Tre saw something in my eyes, or if he felt it himself, but his eyes darkened with desire, his nostrils flaring. His hand snaked across the space between us to touch the bare skin of my leg, just below the hem of my shorts. The boy's boxer's he'd thrown at me were loose, riding low on my hips and loose around my legs. They were something I usually slept in, rather than wore out in public, but now I was suddenly glad for their looseness.
His fingers slipped higher, moving from the solid muscle of my quad inward to the soft silk of my inner thigh. I slid down in the leather seat until the lap belt creased the light padding over my ribs beneath my breasts. My knees spread apart to give him access. He didn't rush, though, and I knew I'd taught him well. He drew out the moment of contact, brushing close and drawing away, keeping his eyes on the road and letting his fingers explore by touch.
One finger brushed the line between my nether lips, releasing a spurt of wetness from within me. The same finger slid across my opening, searching upward for the hard button of my clit. I gasped when he found it, circled it once, and then slid down between my labia to penetrate inward, seeking the warmth and wet of my pussy.
My eyes pressed closed, bright mid-afternoon sun flickering on my eyelids as we passed beneath trees. The engine hummed, wind roared around the open top of the convertible luxury car, and Tre's fingers explored farther in, finding the rough skin of my G-spot and rubbed it,
Tre vanished out the door with our things, leaving me alone with Dan, who was beginning to stir. Blood drooled from his jaw, congealed at his nose and covered his neck and shirt front. His bruised, purpling eyes fluttered, and then he jerked awake, struggled against the sheets binding him. They held tight. I scooped the gun up from beneath the chair.
Blind hate flooded through me, now, with Dan bound helpless in front of me. I could get revenge. I pressed the pistol to his head, remembering all the insults, the times he'd slapped me, the hookers, the drugs...
"Do it," Dan slurred. "Shoot me. You know you want to."
I did want to. It would be so easy. I pulled the hammer back with both thumbs, shoved the barrel into his mouth.
Then I felt firm hands pull the gun away from me, felt Tre's hands twist me aside.
"No, Shea. Let's just go. Leave him." Tre guided me to the door and pushed me through it. I heard him do something behind me, then a thump of the gun hitting the floor and Tre's hand touched me on the back.
"What did you do?" I asked.
"Wiped prints off it. I saw an episode of CSI, once, while my folks were out."
He helped me into a car, tan leather seats. Tre slipped in beside me in the driver's seat, started the car with a smooth purr. It wasn't my car, it was Dan's. The Aston Martin. His baby. His pride and joy. I grinned. Having this car stolen would really chap his ass.
Tre drove fast, enjoying the power of the car.
"Slow down, Tre," I said, shock finally wearing off. "This is a stolen car, after all."
"True." He brought the car down to a safe, legal speed.
We drove south in silence for a few miles. After a while, Tre finally glanced at me. He was antsy in the driver's seat, tapping his fingers, eyes flicking. I wasn't sure if he was nervous from having stolen a three hundred thousand dollar car, or if he was flushed with adrenaline from the fight. Both, most likely
"Are you okay?" He asked.
"It was scary. Seeing him...it threw me for a loop. I don't know why he finally showed up after all this time." I tried a smile, didn't quite succeed. "You were amazing, yet again."
Tre grinned at me, but I could see the residual fear still bubbling behind his eyes. "I just, I couldn't let nothin' happen to you, Shea. Not at the hands of that—that—bastard."
"You protected me," I said, feeling the adrenaline kick in now, after the fact, as boiling heat in my belly, a trembling anticipation in my thighs.
I don't know if Tre saw something in my eyes, or if he felt it himself, but his eyes darkened with desire, his nostrils flaring. His hand snaked across the space between us to touch the bare skin of my leg, just below the hem of my shorts. The boy's boxer's he'd thrown at me were loose, riding low on my hips and loose around my legs. They were something I usually slept in, rather than wore out in public, but now I was suddenly glad for their looseness.
His fingers slipped higher, moving from the solid muscle of my quad inward to the soft silk of my inner thigh. I slid down in the leather seat until the lap belt creased the light padding over my ribs beneath my breasts. My knees spread apart to give him access. He didn't rush, though, and I knew I'd taught him well. He drew out the moment of contact, brushing close and drawing away, keeping his eyes on the road and letting his fingers explore by touch.
One finger brushed the line between my nether lips, releasing a spurt of wetness from within me. The same finger slid across my opening, searching upward for the hard button of my clit. I gasped when he found it, circled it once, and then slid down between my labia to penetrate inward, seeking the warmth and wet of my pussy.
My eyes pressed closed, bright mid-afternoon sun flickering on my eyelids as we passed beneath trees. The engine hummed, wind roared around the open top of the convertible luxury car, and Tre's fingers explored farther in, finding the rough skin of my G-spot and rubbed it,
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