Hook Up (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) (3 page)

I
was moving
like lightning on the eastbound I-10 and loving it. There wasn’t much volume on the roads, and no crazy drivers or road hogs.

It was all clear.

Then it wasn’t.

Those perfect conditions lasted for all of fifteen minutes until I had to decelerate to avoid crashing into a cluster of vehicles up ahead. As I got closer to what was causing the delay, I began to understand why drivers were slowing down, merging into the passing lane and rubbernecking to their right. Someone’s piece of shit car was on the gravelly desert shoulder, surrounded on three sides by tow trucks, one of which was blocking the right lane along this stretch of two-lane roadway.

I cursed under my breath. If these types of delays went on for more than a few times on my way back to school, I could write off that pub crawl with the squad.

As the traffic flow crawled forward, I finally got my turn to see what all the fuss was about. The hood of the old rust bucket was propped up, three tow truck drivers were squabbling with one another—probably over who would get to tow the car off the damned highway—and then I saw her. The hot redhead from the Raging Bull Saloon. The girl with the badass mouth and the kickass body who went to town on my dick in the men’s room. Fuck, just thinking about it made my cock hard in my jeans again.

She was on the phone, very animated as she spoke to whoever it was. She stood there on the side of the highway in a white tank top, a light blue denim pair of short shorts, and tan-colored calf-high cowboy boots with blue trim. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail high up on her head, and for a second I pictured her pulling it loose in slow motion, just for me.

This sweet-looking thing really could stop traffic.

And she did.

Hell, I was already salivating to get between her legs and taste her again.

Before I made it beside the stopped vehicles, she shouted something to the three tow truck guys, who all turned and started heading back to their vehicles. None of them seemed happy. One by one, they started their trucks and drove off, leaving her standing there alone. What, they weren’t going to tow her scrap heap away for her?

Damn, that was cold.

That was when I decided against my better judgment that I’d stop and find out what was going on. My dick was in agreement, so at least one head was completely on board. I pulled up in front of her clunker, put on my four-way flashers, and stepped out of my baby.

As I headed towards her, I saw the recognition dawn on her face. At least she remembered who rocked her world last night. For sure that meant she wasn’t in a drunken haze. Damn, my mind was working overtime, picturing her bent over the trunk of my Mustang, legs with just those cowboy boots and maybe a sexy pair of thongs over that sexy ass of hers. I’d be standing behind her with my hands cupped over her exposed breasts, kissing her neck once in a while as I thrust my cock deep inside her tight pussy, and she’d be moaning and rocking her hips against the pumping.

That was the dream.

Hot sex with a curvy minx on the trunk of my Mustang.

At the side of the I-10.

In broad daylight.

It sure wasn’t sensible, but fuck, it was probably on every hot-blooded male’s bucket list.

“Are you deaf all of a sudden, or are you going to answer my question?”

Maybe daydreaming about this sassy little vixen wasn’t a good idea while standing right in front of her.

“Uh, sorry about that. What was a question?”

“I asked, what you want and what do you think you’re doing here?”

“Jo, was it? Well, I noticed your car here at the side of the road, and saw those tow trucks drive off, so I thought I’d stop if you needed any help.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Damn, she was hard to talk to. “This your car, gingersnap?”

“So what if it is?”

“Are you having a bad day, little lady, or are you always this mouthy and difficult?”

“Don’t little lady me. I never asked you to stop, and I don’t need your help. So what if I’m having a bit of car trouble? My cousin will be along in a few hours, and he’ll help me get a towing service, unlike those three guys who are trying to rip me off just now with their $250 base price bullshit. And that was just to get me into Horizon City, not even back to where my cousin lives.” She folded her arms over her breasts and stared up at me. “So pardon me if I’m a little ticked off right now. And yes, I’m always this mouthy and difficult. I don’t take shit from anyone.”

Normally if anyone talked to me the way this feisty chick did, especially a stranger that I took precious time to stop and help, I’d have just turned around, gotten back into my car and sped away. There were only two things she said that made me stick around a spell. First, that truck drivers really were trying to screw her by doubling their base towing price. I knew for a fact that my dad’s towing service would’ve towed her shitbox from this spot anywhere in El Paso for less than $200. Second, if her cousin was going to take several hours to move this old wreck off the highway, she was liable to get strapped with a huge parking ticket, plus storage fees if the police showed up first.

“First of all, little miss, it sounds like you do need my help.” She opened her mouth to cut me off, but I kept talking. “I’m only going to say this once, then you can do whatever the hell you want.” That got her attention. “Look, I agree that those guys were probably trying to shake you down for a little extra cash, but the cops get here before your cousin or whoever you’re waiting for, you’re looking at close to $500 in fines and towing. My dad owns a few auto shops and I can get someone here in maybe less than an hour, and they can get your vehicle back to El Paso wherever you want it.”

“And how much are you expecting I’ll have to pay for that?”

“I don’t know, $125? You want me to call them and find out?”

“Sure. Wait, why are you even helping me right now? Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

I shook my head. Now I understand why those guys drove off all pissed. This woman was a handful. What I wanted to ask her was whether she was one of those women put here on earth to test man’s patience. I held off on asking that one, but I was so tempted. “Yes I have somewhere to be, which is why you should be grateful I stopped. I’m helping because, well hell…since you’re being so honest, it’s because you made a damned good impression on my dick, and it’s still pretty happy about last night, as much as you’re sweet-looking little potty mouth is ticking me off right now.”

Okay, so that wasn’t exactly what I was fixing to tell her, but I think it got my point across, because it was the first time she didn’t have a quick comeback. In fact, it took her a good half minute to come up with anything.

“Christ!” She turned and stepped over to the passenger side of her car. “All right. Go ahead and get them over here.”

“You’re welcome,” I told her before heading back to get my phone out of the car. I got a hold of my dad’s dispatcher, explained the problem, and they asked for the drop off address. I hollered the question over to her.

“They can take the car to 1146 Primrose, but I’m going to need to be let off with my things at the nearest bus station.”

That was interesting.

I quickly told the dispatcher who I was, and told her to send the closest truck before hanging up and walking back to her car. I came to a stop beside her and looked inside. Shit. The back seat of her clunker was packed to the rafters with stuff.

“So where are you headed? Looks like you’re either moving or you live out of your car. I reckon this breakdown is pretty inconvenient for you, ain’t it?”

Awww crap.

I shouldn’t have said that.

She turned and looked up at me with eyes that started brimming over with tears, jumped into the passenger side of her car, and bawled like a baby.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Don’t cry, little lady. Jesus, I don’t know what I said but I take it all back. Just stop crying and we can figure this out.”

She didn’t stop. In fact, it got worse. I think she might have been having a breakdown. The flood of tears had mascara running down her face, stuff running out of her nose, and that stifled-inhale sound that crying always seemed to bring about in women. I didn’t have a handkerchief to offer her, so I ran back to my car and rifled through the bag my mom packed, grabbing the stack of paper napkins and running back to give them to her. What I couldn’t understand was what the hell I said to cause this? And why did she still look sexy to me I this sorry state?

After about ten minutes of begging, and pleading, and promising her the world so she’d stop, her bawling calmed down to a few intermittent whimpers. I just stood there at the side of her junk heap with my lips pursed and waited. I hesitated to say another word for fear that she’d start up all over again.

“You shouldn’t have seen this,” she finally muttered, wiping the last of all that watery stuff off her face. “It’s not been a good week, and you’re right that my car breaking down is a little inconvenient. A lot inconvenient, but life goes on.”

I nodded. “True.”

“And yes, I’m moving out of town. I’m headed to my sister’s in New Orleans.”

“Yeah? That’s not too far from where I’m going.” I briefly toyed with the idea of offering her a ride, but quickly decided against it. She had a heck of a lot of shit at the back of that piece of junk, never mind what was probably cramped in her trunk.

“And where’s that?”

“Baton Rouge.”

“Oh yeah right. You’re the SEC football guy. El Paso’s last best hope for NFL domination. What position do you play? Wait, let me guess…wide receiver, right? No, cornerback. It’s gotta be cornerback, because you threw that stuffed calf like a girl last night. You’d never make it to any other position on a college football team with an arm like that.”

Wow.

What the hell could I say to that?

I’d have been insulted if that wasn’t exactly what the coach said to me on an almost weekly basis last season. I guess I should have thanked him for toughening me up. Well, at least it sounded like she was back to her old foul-mouthed feisty self.

I nodded to her. “You got it. Cornerback.”

“So anyway…um. what did you say your name was again?”

She forgot my name? I didn’t forget hers. She must have had a hell of a lot on her mind last night when I fucked her brains out.

“It’s Chris.”

“Right. Chris.”

“And you’re Jo.”

“Nice. You remembered. Cool. So Chris, I’ve delayed you enough, so you go on ahead and I’ll keep an eye out for the tow truck you called. See you around.”

“I think I’ll wait. Just until they show up.”

“Why?”

“Because the way you talk, little miss, you’re liable to berate them to the point where they leave you stranded just like the last three guys who stopped.”

“Oh, they weren’t the only three tow trucks that stopped.”

“For some strange reason, I’m not too surprised. Anyway, I’ll wait.” I looked at the time on my phone and checked the call log to see how long ago I’d phoned them. “They shouldn’t be long. Do you want to wait in my car? It’s hot as hell out here, and I’ve got AC.” Her car sure as hell couldn’t have air conditioning. If it could start at all.

She grabbed her purse and opened the passenger door. “Sure. Just don’t think of trying anything. Got it?”

I was close to my limit with this woman already. It didn’t stop my dick from getting hard, but geez, I wasn’t up for hearing another word from her.

“What the hell could I try with you that I didn’t already do to you last night?” I spat. It was mean, but the way she talked, it had me on the defensive and ready to pounce. It also got me thinking of bending her over and burying every inch of my manhood inside her.

“I wasn’t talking about sex, you pervert,” she snapped, following me back to my car. “I meant don’t try to do anything like steal from me.”

I opened the passenger side door and took out the bag of food so she could sit inside, giving her a hard look when our eyes met again. “I don’t steal. Don’t need to. Never have and never will. Plus what would I steal from you, anyway? I should be worried about you robbing me. A tough girl like you, you’re probably packing in that purse of yours. What’cha got, a Colt? Naw, I can definitely see you carrying a Ruger 9mm or a Smith and Wesson .38 Special. Am I right or am I right?”

“Whatever.”

“No, I think the right words are
I’m sorry for insulting you, Chris
.”

“What?”

“You heard me. And you can add a few things to the brand spanking new vocabulary you’ll have after I’m done with you. You know, phrases like ‘
excuse me, Chris
’, ‘
pardon me, Chris
’, ‘
thank you, Chris
’ and ‘
much obliged, Chris
’.” She just stood there with her head cocked. I was betting that no one had ever called her on her god-awful attitude. I could have gone on, but I really wasn’t up for her crying again, especially not in my car. “Get in.”

I closed her door when she finally unfroze and sat inside, then I got in the driver side and put on the AC. I kept my mouth shut as we waited, reaching over to the back seat for two of those water bottles and passing one to her. Damn, I was grateful for the silence now.

“Thank you, Chris,” she muttered when she took the bottled water. She stared at me, all mascara and mild annoyance in that glare. Maybe there was a little smile too, but I didn’t know her well enough to be sure.

Lord have mercy. Did Jo just say something courteous? I would have asked her to repeat it or ribbed her a bit, but I didn’t want to push my luck and get her started again with the bawling her eyes out. I just nodded and kept my eyes facing forward, though a tiny smile crawled up my lips as I sat there.

Then I said something that came out of nowhere. Even I was shocked when the words fell out of my mouth.