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Slow Ride (Fast Track #5) Page 22
Author: Erin McCarthy

“That is true. And hey, it’s a very cool name. It makes you unique, unlike having the name Daniel like I do.”

“But no one calls you Daniel.” She made a mock quizzical face, stroking her chin. “Or do they?”

No one but his mother ever had. “It might be nice to have someone call me Daniel once in a while.” He almost added it would mean they were special, or more important, that he was special to them, but he stopped himself before he really came off like a raging dork. “So what are your three things?”

“Well, Daniel, let’s see. My nickname when I was little was Toot. Don’t ask me why, I won’t tell you. I have never been to Europe, which is just wrong. And I’ve never met a cookie I didn’t like.”

He liked the sound of his given name on her lips. Struggling not to laugh, Diesel just said, “If you don’t want me to ask, why did you tell me?”

“To frustrate you.”

He could believe she was good at that. “So you mean there isn’t a single cookie you can resist?”

“Nope.”

“You just gave me serious ammunition.”

The corner of her mouth went up. “That was the point.”

Diesel felt a serious kick of lust. Damn, she was sexy. “So, do you think we can leave soon?”

“It depends on where we’re going.”

“Either your place or mine. Just tell me where you’d be more comfortable getting naked.” He was done with this fake gambling on horse races that weren’t live, with Ellie and his aunt and uncle all scrutinizing his interaction with Tuesday.

If she was going to get tired of him, he wanted at least one night with her first.

Her eyes darkened. The tip of her tongue came out and moistened her lip. “Which is closer?”

He really liked the way she thought. “I believe that would be my place. And I have cookies in the car, remember. Your cookies.”

Tuesday wished she wasn’t wearing these damn tight stretchy pants, because she needed more breathing room between her thighs. Diesel had a way of looking at her that just torched her girl parts. His words were like an electrical jolt to her junk. She didn’t remember them ever actually establishing they were going to sleep together but they both clearly wanted to. She knew she had wanted to after the wedding but it had been anybody’s guess if he had been at all interested in her or if he’d just felt responsible for the drunk girl.

Between that sexy kiss earlier and his words now, it was no longer in question. He wanted her and she was going to let him have her.

“Let me just get my crop and we can be on our way.”

His nostrils flared. “Well, alright then.”

Diesel didn’t say the most creative things, but it was the way he said it, his voice low, his hair falling in his eyes, that drove Tuesday crazy. Just hearing those words now, trailing over her like his hot, demanding kisses, made her panties wet with desire. They needed to get out of there, fast. Before she knocked the chips off the table and spread her thighs for him.

She stood up, taking care to make sure her backside was right in his view. Might as well whet his appetite in whatever way she could. Tuesday said good-bye to the woman whose name she couldn’t remember who had been sitting at their table with her daughter. The daughter, Ellie, who had clearly had designs on Diesel, was nowhere to be found, which Tuesday figured was for the best. She didn’t want to get into a girl fight, and that woman had looked like a scrapper.

Tuesday would see how good Diesel was in bed first before she decided if he was worth hair pulling and bitch slapping.

His aunt and uncle she definitely liked. “Thanks so much for such an enjoyable night,” she told Beth.

Beth wrapped her in a hug. “Oh, it was so nice to meet you, sweetie. I had a great time with you.”

Johnny’s turn was next. When he wrapped her in his arms for a light hug, Tuesday smelled his cologne wafting up her nostrils, and had a moment of brief confusion, followed by profound grief. He smelled like her dad, his hand rubbing on her back the way her father would have. She suddenly regretted not drinking any of the beer that had been freely flowing all night.

But she faked a smile, finished her good-byes, then grabbed her crop and purse and got the hell out of there. She assumed Diesel was following her, but she wasn’t going to stop and check for fear she might actually start crying.

There were never going to be any nights hanging out with her dad ever again.

After rushing up the steps, Tuesday shoved open the door and burst out in the parking lot of the church. The evening air hit her in the face and she breathed deeply. It was too hot to be wearing her riding jacket without air-conditioning so she stripped it off, her cheeks burning.

She whirled when the door opened behind her and Diesel emerged. She gave him a glare. “What took you so long?”

“I was trying to piss you off,” he told her mildly.

Tuesday sighed. Most men would rise to the bait and snap right back at her. That he didn’t diffused her anger. She had been itching for a fight with him and he hadn’t even done anything wrong. It wasn’t his fault her dad was gone, yet she’d been eager to take it out on him. It was a relief that he wasn’t going to let her.

She opened her mouth to apologize when he caught her completely off guard. One second she was feeling guilty and deflated, ready to eat crow and tell him she was sorry, the next she found herself stumbling backward as he shoved her against the wall. Hard. Her shoulders hit the bricks of the building and her backside likewise.

As she recovered her balance, she said, “What the f**k are you doing?” even as she knew full well what his intention was.

“I’m kissing you.” He edged his knee in between her legs.

Tuesday wondered briefly if anyone inside the building could see them. “No, you’re not. You’re just manhandling me.”

His hands dug into her hair, yanking her head forward off the wall. “You haven’t even seen manhandling yet.”

Her ni**les were hard, inner thighs damp already. She’d had no idea that she could get so turned on so quickly just from a man’s words. But there was something about the way he dominated her space, controlled what they were doing, that she found intensely sexy. “Are you going to show me?”

Instead of answering, he kissed her. It wasn’t hard, the way she was expecting. He completely caught her off guard yet again by kissing her softly, worshipfully, a gentle caress of his mouth over hers. Her shoulders sunk, her mouth drifted open, her knees actually crumpled as he kissed her with a gentleness in complete contradiction to his rough prelude.

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Erin McCarthy's Novels
» Flat-Out Sexy (Fast Track #1)
» Slow Ride (Fast Track #5)
» Full Throttle (Fast Track #7)
» The Chase (Fast Track #4)
» Hard and Fast (Fast Track #2)