âCauseââ
Like a shot, Holly launched herself into his lap, whimpering.
He swallowed, intensely aware that she had her knees spread over his groin and wore nothing under the shirt. At any other time, heâd be loving their position, might have manufactured a scenario to get her just like this. But he could barely see around her bobbing head.
âItâs only crayfish!â
âN-no, not onlyââ
The truck dived sharply into a gulch before rearing up. Then down into another and another. Cade grabbed for her waist; she listed to the side. âWatch your knee with the goolies, petââ
Heâd cupped her between her thighs.
As he felt her soft flesh, giving and hot again his palm, he growled low. The engine was clamoring, the truckbouncing, and they still met eyes. Hers grew wide as she shoved his hand away. But she still didnât get off him. âNot only crayfish!â she cried.
âThen what is it?â he snapped.
âTh-that!â She pointed down to the sloshing pool of water covering the floorboard.
A small water moccasin was along for the ride, swimming dazedly among the crushed Red Bull cans, looking as freaked out as she was.
Cade dared a quick snatch for it, but it slithered under the seat. Heâd never thought heâd say this, but . . . âOff me, Holly. Back to your seat. Just keep your legs up.â
She shook her head. âNot until itâs gone!â
âThen youâre going to have to drive.â
âOkay,â she said shakily, taking the wheel as he edged under her.
His hand shot under the bench. âCome here, you little fuck.â
âCadeon!â
âAh, come on, halfling!â
The truck began to slow. He jerked upright, facing backward, and was blinded by the nearing headlights. âWhat in the bloody hell are you doing?â he barked at her.
âSomething moved in the water down there!â
âHolly, you slam that pedal down or you die! Clear?â
With a visible shudder, she stretched her leg far down, barely reaching the pedal, tamping it down with her toes. Each time she was jounced in the seat, the gas let off, but she doggedly kept at that pedal.
He snared the moccasin. Knowing that his female would have to see it to believe it, Cade held up the snake as it merrily envenomated him. âHere, look. Visual confirmation.âHe tossed it out the window hole. âNow, move your little ass over here, and letâs lose these miserable pricks, yeah?â
âYeah?â
When she shimmied over his lap, he resisted the urge to plant her there, then took the wheel. As they crested a small rise and started back down, he spied another washout. He sped up, yanking her into his side. âHold on to me.â
She wrapped her slim arms around his torso, burying her face against him. Tension shot through him, desire for her eating at him, even now.
He was holding her. Forty miles per hour . His female. Forty-five . He tightened his arm around her as the frame of the truck vibrated, sounding like rocks rattling in a tin can multiplied by a thousand.
The truck hit the washout at nearly fifty miles per hour, plowing through the water. Midway through, the engine strained, sputtering. Water in the exhaust . He floored the gas.
âCome on, baby,â he muttered. He smelled incongruous smoke. Churning, churning, and then . . .
The old girl surged out the other side. When he glanced back and saw the trailing SUV bottom out, he couldnât resist a pat on the cracked dashboard.
âWe lost them. Truckâs not so bad, then, is it?â he said. âHolly?â He frowned down at her in confusion. She was still holding his torso like he was a tree in a storm. As if she needed him for comfort.
Cade couldnât remember the last time anything had felt a fraction so good.
5
L ittle busy here, Rydstrom,â Cade snapped when his brother rang