Chapter Four

Jameson

The next morning, I waited for her. Call it stalking, but shit, I was worried about her. A woman with a black eye and a broken-down car, stranded in the middle of nowhere didn't exactly inspire confidence in her situation. Sure, she was a fine piece of ass, so there was that as well, but at the root of it all, I was worried.

Of course, I wouldn't mind getting close to her, but the real reason I hung around her room the next day was to make sure she was okay. Or at least, as close to okay as she could be.

She stepped outside into the morning sun, cleaned up, but still wearing the same pencil skirt and blouse she'd had on when I'd come upon her the day before. Not that I was surprised. When I'd picked her up, I hadn't seen a bag with her. Just her purse and it was too small to hold anything. That made me think she'd left in a hurry and didn't have time to pack when she hit the road. Which lent credence to the idea that she really wasn't okay and was running from somebody really, really bad.

Even still, in her day-old clothes, her hair falling over her shoulders in soft ringlets, without a trace of makeup on, her face was still beautiful and her eyes were just as big and pretty as they were the night before. Of course, her lack of makeup made the fact that she had a black eye—that was even more purple today—all the more noticeable.

When she saw me sitting there staring at her, she started to go back into the room but stopped. She stood in the doorway, her eyes blazing with anger and her chin tilted up defiantly—a pose she had perfected. She looked torn—go back in and slam the door, or come talk to me.

I walked toward her and she yelled at me, “I'm going to call the cops if you don't leave me alone.”

“Chill out, sweetheart,” I said, snuffing out a cigarette with my shoe. “I just came by to make sure you got ahold of the tow company. Figured you might need a ride—”

“No, I can call a cab, thank you,” she said, chin held even higher, haughtier.

“Oh yeah? Have you tried yet?” I couldn't help but laugh. “Because Milling doesn't have cabs, sweetheart. No buses either. Welcome to small town America.”

“You're lying.” She didn't look too convinced as she spoke, but she stood tall and proud anyway. As if she could convince herself by sheer force. Had to give the gal some credit. She didn't seem like the type who took a lot of shit lying down. Which made me wonder if that was how she'd gotten that shiner in the first place.

“Don't believe me? Ask Jerry for the number to the local cab company and watch him laugh your cute little ass right out of the lobby.”

Isabelle gritted her teeth, and I watched as she balled her fists up at her sides. She was—as they say—adorable when she was angry.

“Fine then,” she snapped. “I can walk. Can't be too far.”

She started walking out of the parking lot, wobbling a bit in those heels, determined to do just that, and I just watched, laughing loud enough for her to hear it.

She turned on her heels to face me. “What's so funny?”

“You're going the wrong way, sweet—”

“Call me sweetheart one more time and I swear, I'll slap that smile right off your face,” she said.

“Fine, sorry. I'll watch my mouth. But it's true. I'm being honest here. You're going the wrong way. It's that way, up Pine Street, take a right at the one stoplight on the corner and walk for about oh—two, three miles or so.”

“Two miles? I thought this was a small town,” she said.

“It is,” I said. “The shop is outside of town. Two miles down the road from Milling. But if you start walking now, you should get there before the hottest part of the day.”

I knew she was stuck. She knew she was stuck. But it was going to be a cold day in hell before she admitted I was right. And it would probably be a colder day still before she relented and asked me for help. This girl was prouder than a peacock and more stubborn than an old mule.

I watched as she thought through her options, trying to figure something out—something that didn't include me. She was stubborn as hell, but damn adorable, I had to admit. A little too cutesy for me normally, a little too snooty too. But hey, I thought if she got to know me, I could loosen her up over time. Considering the state of her vehicle, I figured we had a few days together. At least.

“It's supposed to be 115 again today,” I said. “Maybe hotter.”

That was enough for her. Isabelle reluctantly walked toward me, her cheeks burning red, her head down in defeat. Which was a pretty sad sight to see considering she'd had such a rough day yesterday.

Isabelle didn't say anything at all, but she followed me as I walked her to my bike. I'd made sure to bring an extra helmet for her this time and handed it over without saying a word. The last thing I was going to do was twist the knife by forcing her to admit that she was damn near helpless without me. She took the helmet without meeting my gaze or speaking to me. Her movements were slow. Defeated. Depressed.

“What happened to you?” I asked, reaching out and lifting her chin so I could check out the eye.

She snapped her head away. “Nothing,” she said, but her voice lacked the fire it had earlier. “None of your business.”

“Which is it? Nothing or none of my business?”

“Both,” she grumbled.

Not wanting her to change her mind about going with me, I fell silent as I helped her onto the back of the bike, hopped on in front of her and instructed her to hold on. I stared down at her tiny hands resting on my legs. So dainty. So soft and smooth. I imagined what those little hands would look like wrapped around my cock—a fleeting thought that caused my dick to get hard in an instant. Dammit. Just what I needed. The pain of blue balls and an erection pressing against my jeans as we rode.

Okay, so maybe that was a sleazy thought considering what she’d just been through. But I just couldn’t help what this girl was doing to me. Even with her nose stuck in the air, there was something about Isabelle that was just . . . different. Feisty.

She seemed more relaxed than she had yesterday with her body pressed against mine. Or at least, more sullen. Whatever it was, it sure didn't help matters any. We couldn't get to the mechanic soon enough. It felt like my balls were about to burst just being as close to her as I was and feeling her body pressed against mine.

I liked feeling her body on mine, her breasts against my back. But knowing I was hard with no release in sight was uncomfortable, to say the least. And I still had the ride back to look forward to.