Charlie's Angel (13 page)

The car raced in the diamond lane now. A few vehicles surrounded them, but the traffic wasn’t bumper to bumper as it so often was at rush hour.

“Like this?” Roxie asked coquettishly. Her gaze rested fully on his, inquiring, playing with his libido. Her hands stayed still in her lap.

“Like that,” he assented, taking her wrist and lifting her fingers to his mouth. One by one, he kissed the pads with delicate brushes of his lips. Roxie quivered.

Canting her head toward the driver, she asked in a soft whisper, “Can he hear us?”

Her trembling had increased remarkably. Did she want him so much she was willing to do him in a public place, much like his crazy fantasy?

“That’s one of the things that gave you away,” he told her with a short laugh. “You can’t hide your blue blood no matter what you do. It’s too ingrained in you.”

Her eyes smiled now too. The angel had mated with the devil and come out to tease him into his version of a pleasurable inferno.

Roxie didn’t notice the car moving forward. She had eyes for nothing but Charlie. Her whole body responded to his nearness, and now they were out of immediate danger, she felt relief wash over her along with yearning for the man who she’d eat up if given the chance.

“You mentioned sixty-nine,” she whispered with a naughty wink. “Will we still have the opportunity?”

Charlie moaned. His eyes flicked toward the driver and back to Roxie. “You’re hot,” he choked out, his eyes bulging, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“Why don’t you cool me down a little?” she offered, her voice slick with meaning. His musky scent was heady and tempting. She raised her torso up a fraction of an inch and lifted her dress up her thighs.

He rasped out a breath. “I want to treat you like a princess,” he managed as his hand strayed to the top of her warm thigh.

She shrugged. “Treat me any way you want later. For now, give me what I want.” Grasping his fingers, she edged them up the hip of her cotton panties.

“Oh God, Roxie. I’m burning up,” he murmured close to her ear lobe. His breath was hot against her left cheek.

She’d never been so forward with a man before and immensely enjoyed Charlie’s reaction. She gave him a wicked smile and traced the outline of his bulging erection through his jeans with the pad of her index finger. He glanced away at the Pacific Ocean with half-closed eyes, puffing small breaths, perhaps to steady his nerves.

A bright green highway sign caught her eye.
Thousand Oaks
.

“Have you ever made out in a car before?” she asked, ramping up her smile to mega-watts.

His lips parted but no sound came. Instead, he shook his head.

Poor baby. He’s in for the ride of his life. As a matter of fact, I’ve never felt so raunchy, so inventive before. I want to give Charlie the best orgasm he’s ever had, just quietly, in the back seat of a car hurrying to safety. Perhaps the driver will get a hard-on, too.

“What do you feel?” she asked, as his eyes narrowed into slits and he lowered his mouth to her neck. His lips nuzzled a trail of heated passion to her throat.

“What do you want me to do with my fingers?” His voice was incredibly husky and sexy.

She snorted. “Pleasure me.”

“Do you mean fuck you?” He spoke softly, his head bent.

“Yes.” Was Charlie visually examining her breasts as she gasped tiny breaths of anticipation?

She parted her legs enough to allow his hand to edge between her tremulous thighs.

“Have you ever made out in the back seat of a car before? While someone is driving?” This time his tone was laced with wry humor.

She shook her head, but her mind was preoccupied with sensual images of what he was doing. His strong fingers sliding between her warm skin and the cotton of her panties. His breaths rasped as he sought out her wet folds and his nerves tingled at the heady moment of wet discovery. She clutched at the fabric of his shirt, tugging, pulling, yearning for the orgasm that would blow her apart. But he didn’t touch her throbbing clit.

Charlie leaned her back the slightest amount and slid one digit into her wet channel. She gasped in mixed shock and pleasure. She closed her eyes as emotion hurtled through her. Feminine power, mingled with anticipation, relief, and a trickle of joy she’d never known before.

“We’re almost there,” Hector intervened with a strong Hispanic accent. It was the first time she’d heard him speak.

I’m almost there too. Sexually that is.

Charlie’s finger plunged in and out of her pussy with a ferocity that initially frightened her, before she realized he wanted her to climax quickly.

Her bones fused, and she became a mass of tight muscles and quivering flesh.

“Oh yes,” she exhaled on a moaning sigh. Mindlessly, she plucked at his shirt.

“Keep going, baby,” Charlie urged, his voice so soft against her ear she barely heard him. “Come for me.”

The combination of his words and the escalating tension in her body was all she needed to sheer off into a mind-blowing orgasm. She slammed her head against his chest, took a deep breath of his unique blend of lemon and masculine scents, and muffled her cry of delight in his shirt.

Charlie stroked her nape with a slow, gentle caress. “I bet that felt good.” Once again, his voice was tender, his words intended for her ears only.

Roxie couldn’t speak. She sucked in a deep breath and rested her cheek on the soft comfort of his shirt. Every nerve in her body was afire, shaking with the power of her climax. Her fingers lay still on his broad shoulders.

Charlie chuckled. “We’re almost at the safe house. You might want to arrange your dress.”

She’d forgotten about the need to get decent. He was still lodged in her passage. Her vaginal muscles clenched him.

“You might want to arrange your finger,” she said, her voice muffled into his shirt.

He said nothing; neither did he remove his digit.

Disquieted by his silence, she asked, “What about you?”

With gargantuan effort, she lifted her head and blinked her eyes open. The sun’s harsh glare immediately greeted her. She groaned.

His jaw was unmoving, clenched in an uncompromising line. Gray eyes gazed back at her wistfully as he drew his finger from her wet pussy. “I’ve got a mega hard-on just for you, but once Hector parks, I want to take you inside and make sure everything is safe on the outside.” Keeping his eyes on her face, he licked the pad of his finger with a quiet slurping sound. He nodded. “Berries and cream.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, tasted her juices, before she lifted her bottom up and tugged her skirt down over her thighs. That sure had been one hell of a ride.

Charlie yanked his shirt down at the waist, a small smile hovering on his lips. He couldn’t forget why they’d made the hour-long trip into Ventura County. He had to protect Roxie and himself until Rowter was found and thrown in jail. Deep in thought, he scratched his head. A man who carried wipes to use in case he’d been sprayed with pepper was loony enough to do anything.

Planting a kiss on Roxie’s head, he left the car, turned then helped her out, all the time keeping a wary eye on the new surroundings. Oxnard was primarily flat rolling plains, agricultural land supporting strawberries and lima beans. The naval bases, Port Huineme and Port McGoo, were nearby on the ocean.

If Rowter had accomplices, which Charlie doubted, they’d be hard pressed to find Roxie. Hector hadn’t driven straight to Oxnard but had jumped off the freeway and taken several surface streets in case they were being followed.

Charlie inhaled a deep breath, took in the salty ocean air. Hector had parked on the curb facing a nondescript family home. Inside, it was fully furnished and a guard, whom Kyle had hired, was on patrol although Charlie couldn’t see him yet.

Hector nodded in acknowledgement that they’d arrived safely. He was ex-marine, Charlie had learned from Kyle.

“Will that man find us here?” Roxie asked, leaning against the car’s trunk. Her cheeks were still flushed. Charlie had enjoyed giving her an orgasm. He wanted to give her more, to keep his promise about the sixty-nine and making love under the stars. The outdoor lovemaking would have to wait, but the sixty-nine was on his agenda for tonight.

Weren’t there more important issues to deal with? Like staying alive? “I don’t think so,” he answered, “but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

“Oh.” Doubt furrowed her brows. “I don’t understand any of this.” She hung her head in dejection. “Maybe I’m not doing such a good job of taking care of myself after all.”

He cupped her face between his hands. “It’s okay to be afraid. I’d be doing exactly what you are if I were in your shoes.”

Her liquid blue gaze met his, questioning, assessing.

“Running?” she finally said.

He nodded, desperately trying to forget the one time he’d run when he should have stayed put and fought instead. “Let’s get you inside, in case anyone is watching.”

Hector was already in the house, but Charlie decided to make sure himself that everything was all right once he took Roxie inside. A second pair of fresh eyes never hurt.

Settling his hand on the small of her back, he walked her inside. He noted she was trembling under his touch, but he couldn’t decide whether it was from fear or from sexual excitement. He hoped it was the latter.

He had to remind himself that he was here to safeguard her, not to make love to her repeatedly until she could take no more, but she was much too tempting to keep his hands off her.

When he remembered his first impression on seeing her getting on the black motorcycle, he’d known she’d be trouble. Biker chicks always were.

* * * *

Roxie had been assigned her own room and instructed not to leave it unaccompanied or to look out the window. She peeked anyway. Her room was at the back of the house on the second floor. The sun was about to set in a blaze of glorious fire. A chain wire fence lined the property and the flat land behind was planted with what appeared to be strawberry plants for a far as the eye could see. She remembered the decadent desserts that had been served at the Harrier mansion—rich, luscious strawberries dipped in Belgian chocolate. Did the “berries and cream” Charlie had mentioned include strawberries?

She wanted to make love to him, to undress him roughly as if he were a cowboy who demanded swiftness. She wanted to send him to heights he’d never known before—if that were possible for a man who’d probably dated and bedded more women than she cared to think about.

A spark of jealousy reared its ugly head, but she quickly dismissed it. Charlie had been caught in the Rowter mess, and he owed her nothing. They had made love, and tomorrow, or earlier, he’d tell her Rowter had been caught. That would be the end of their steamy time together. The knowledge did nothing to cheer her. She walked aimlessly around the room, examining the queen-size bed and its well-washed sheets. Would Charlie and she make love to each other here or did he have a different room?

She sank into an upholstered armchair, cradled her head in her hands and wondered how many other people had sat here, waiting. Why was Rowter determined to kill her? If he was hell bent now, why hadn’t he done her in on the bus? She remembered filling out one crossword puzzle after another and watching the scenery rolling by, from heavily forested areas to arid plains to snow-capped mountains.

Except for one day early in her journey, she’d fallen asleep. When she awakened, the Greyhound bus was stopped in one of the interminable small towns en route. She remembered a rotund man with gold-rimmed glasses had been seated opposite her and up two seats across the aisle. He’d been reading a mystery novel with a dark-eyed bloody man on the cover. After the bus had left, she’d seen the book lying open and a bag of corn chips next to it, as if the passenger meant to return to reading and eating in a few minutes.