Think Before You Speak Read Online Free PDF Page A

remedial math class, but this I
kept to myself. No need to be rude and disrespectful – at least not
out loud, ‘specially after all of the stunning things he’d done to
me last night.
    He caught me in his arms and pressed me up
against the new kitchen cabinets. The pout disappeared and a sexy
smile replaced it. “Let’s celebrate my homecoming then.”
    “Didn’t we do that last night?” My voice
shivered as he nipped my ear and worked down my jaw.
    “I ‘ave got a brief shoot down in San Antonio
early next week. How ‘bout we drive down Sunday and spend a little
one-on-one together.”
    I could tell he was ready for a little
one-on-one right now. “I’ve got work on Wednesday night next
week.”
    “Piece ‘a cake. The shoot is scheduled Monday
and Tuesday nights. After I’m done, we zip up the motorway in time
for your work. All’s good then?”
    Wait a minute? A road trip? With Nick?
Weren’t we just arguing? Weren’t we just thinking about no friend with the girl ?
    Oh, yeah. That was me.
    My knees were knocking from the intimacy a
trip together implied. Or maybe it was because of overworked
muscles from the night before. Perhaps more from what his roaming
hands were doing to my body as Nick stripped me of the robe and his
mouth explored mine. A combination of those three explanations?
    Let’s go with that. San Antonio, here we
c-c-c-ome.

Chapter Four

    It bothered me how well Nick could manipulate
me – and yeah, that way too. He’d discovered my weakness. How to
get almost anything he wanted from me. With awesome sex he could
steer me easier than a rider with a bit in a filly’s maw.
    So with that mental image, I had even more to
chew on during the four hour drive south.
    A road trip. Together. Just Nick and me. That
bespoke an intimacy I hadn’t experienced since the epic blowup with
Big Z. This train was barreling down the tracks toward the ravine
so fast, I’d have to jump off soon before becoming a wreck on a
wreck.
    But as a captive audience, I’d have to try
and make the best of the next few days. In order to do that, I’d
have to make it through this car ride first.
    So what could we talk about? Did we even have
anything in common? Okay, his car might work. The sweet Jaguar
F-Type R Coupe cut down the interstate as smooth as an all-star
running back through a defensive line, with enough horsepower to
challenge my Vette in a street race. For a second anyway. The only
thing that would possibly make it better was if the Jag was a
convertible – and black.
    I wasn’t about to concede my good ol’
American-born hot rod to some foreign-made piece of luxury without
more information. Even if it was a gorgeous model that made me want
to take it for a spin on my own. It didn’t hurt either that it was
a pearlescent charcoal gray. It’d go great as an accessory to the
new paint on my apartment walls.
    “So,” I asked, “what’re the specs on this
Jag?”
    “Specs?” Nick questioned.
    “Like the horsepower.”
    “Um…not sure.”
    “Torque?” I pressed.
    “What’s that?”
    Yeah, this was going well. “I’m assuming it’s
a V-8?”
    “Like the vegetable juice?”
    The scenery of brown scrub fields and grazing
cattle flashed by almost as fast as my life. How could a guy own a
car worth nearly a hundred grand and know nothing about it? Every
man I’d ever known could rattle off the specs of their vehicle down
to the brand of spark plugs in the coil. Hell, even I could tell
you that much. Guys weren’t the only sex to have a thing for their
vehicles. Most of ‘em got a hard on just thinking about them.
    This was going to be the longest trip of my
life. “So what can you tell me about this car?” I tried
again.
    “Well…it’s got leather seats,” Nick
offered.
    “I see.”
    “And they’re heated.”
    “Okay.” Heated seats aren’t really necessary
in Texas – especially in August. But I was willing to give him that
one since most high-end cars have heat at the seat