Hell or High Water (The Four Horsemen MC Book 8)(5)

By: Sara Rayne

“I, uh…spend a lot of time with my family, getting to know my dad’s side of things a bit more. And I study.” It sounded lame to her own ears.

“Guess I hit the nail on the head with the ‘good girl’ remark. All work, no play?”

“I wouldn’t say no play, but I keep my priorities in order.” She’d tried dating when she first got to college—even slept with a guy in her developmental psychology class after they’d dated for a semester. It’d been boring at best, and when she found herself ducking out of make-out sessions to check for texts from Voo, she’d ended things.

“What kind of play are we talking about?” He waggled his eyebrows.

It was hard to tell if he was being serious or making a joke of his earlier flirtation attempts. Maybe testing the waters again? Lex chuckled, hoping laughing it off would give him the hint in case he hadn’t taken it.

“None of your business.”

“Hmmm.” He kept staring at her, but the angle of the light hid his eyes. Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, she tried to think of anything she could say to break the silence—and then extricate herself from the vehicle—when he scooted back into the driver’s position and buckled his seatbelt.

“What do you say we get you tucked in for the night, good girl?”

Lex weighed her options. It was only a few more blocks in a straight line to her dorm, and he seemed to have sobered up. Refusing would mean going through a fifteen-minute negotiation, avoidable only by climbing across his lap and out of the working door.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He was already shifting gears, so she strapped on her seatbelt and hoped for a quick, quiet ride home.

“Take it slow, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” He pulled onto the empty street.

He inched along, and she’d started to relax by the time they reached the construction around the front of campus. Large pallets and stacks of steel beams surrounded by reflector-coated orange barrels loomed ahead in the gleam of the dim streetlamps.

“You should cut down the street to the left so you can use the side entrance to campus.”

“Huh, I thought there was a way through.” He kept his eyes on the road. She hoped he wasn’t seeing double. “Sure you’re not tryin’ to get me alone in a dark alley? Because all you had to do was ask.”

“Funny….” Please be joking, please be joking.

“Listen, we both know why you got in this truck with me so cut the act and tell me where you want to do me, baby.” He leered over his shoulder. “Bet we can find some cover in the construction.”

“The joke is getting old.”

“Who’s joking?” He swerved, speeding around an orange barrel. “I know what you want.”

“Believe me, you don’t.” She reached for the handle on her door, wondering if the whole “door doesn’t work” trick had been a lie. It wasn’t. The handle was gone. “Pull over. Now. I’m walking.”

“Don’t be so naïve. You told me you were leaving the party, then stuck around to see if I’d make another pass. I know the hard-to-get routine when I see it.” He zipped around a dump truck. “Why do you think I waited for you down the street?”

“What?” Her heart fluttered, and her grip on the seatbelt tightened. This was so not okay. “Grant, slow down. Let me out.”

“Not gonna happen. You’re gettin’ what you wanted.”

“Pull over. Now.” She swallowed hard, wishing her stomach felt as confident as her words had been.

“Relax, baby. I’ll make sure you enjoy it.” He pawed her knee. “Let’s go out to the park.”

“Grant, I said stop the truck!”

“Shut up. You’re about to piss me off. Unless you don’t want me to be so nice to you. You like it rough, good girl?”

In a few more minutes, he’d clear the construction. Then he could turn on any street he wanted, take her wherever. It was like a bad rape-prevention skit from orientation week. His hand slid further up her thigh, and her skin crawled.