Long Hard Truckers, Page 2

  “I—”

  “You’re coming with us,” the dark-haired one growls lowly.

  I blink, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

  “Now,” the guy with the sandier hair mutters lowly, both of them moving closer.

  “The hell I am,” I spit, backing away from them.

  “These three have buddies inside,” he grumbles. “And in a second, they’re going to come out looking for them. Three on two are odds we’re okay with. But ten on two gets a little stacked.”

  The dark-haired one smirks. “Unless you’re an undercover cage fighter?”

  “I— No,” I stammer, glancing at the diner. “Look, thank you. Really. And if I had my purse, I swear I could pay you, but I’m fine—”

  “We ain't leaving here without you.”

  I swallow, blinking up at both their handsome, chiseled, hardened faces. And the phrase “out of the frying pan and into the fire” teases through my head. They step closer, and I step back against the wall.

  “Don’t you dare,” I hiss, trying too hard to keep the fear raging through me down.

  “Princess,” the sandy-haired one growls, moving close. The heat of his body washes over mine and makes me tremble. It makes my heart skip a beat as his gorgeous dark eyes level with mine and that hard, chiseled jaw leans close.

  “You're coming with us, now.”

  “I’m waiting for my boy—”

  “No you’re not.”

  The dark-haired guy pulls close, both of them towering over me. My breath comes faster, my pulse racing as my eyes dart between them. I know I should be scared. And maybe I am, a little.

  But it's something else. Something more primal, and heated.

  Suddenly, there’s a commotion by the door, and we all turn, seeing a crowd of guys pointing right at us.

  “Time’s up, princess.”

  Suddenly, hands grab me, and before I know what's happening, I’m being thrown over the muscled shoulder of the dark-haired guy with a firm hand keeping me in place as we run out into the rain. I scream, kicking and lashing, but they move easily, storming across the rain soaked parking lot. We get to a big rig truck, and the guy holding me yanks open the passenger side door.

  My heart jumps into my throat.

  “Wait! No, please—!”

  I gasp as he easily tosses me in, sending me sprawling across the big soft bench seat. I scramble for the other door, but the blond guy swoops into the driver’s seat. The one with the dark hair and blue eyes who carried me climbs up behind me, and when both doors shut, my breath catches.

  I’m trapped in here. Me. Little, terrified, naive, ditched-by-her-shitty-friends me, trapped in a freaking big rig truck with two rough, hard, big truckers. The engine roars to life, and the truck shudders into gear under me. I gasp, whirling, looking at each of them like they might suddenly break into smiles and yell “surprise” when the hidden cameras come out.

  But it’s not happening.

  This is what’s happening.

  The crowd of guys from the diner is yelling at us, chasing on foot and hurling what might be rocks or something. But the blond guy just calmly shifts gears, the big truck roaring as it catches and takes off, rumbling off down the road.

  …With me as their prisoner.

  Okay, now what?

  Chapter 3

  Walker

  Fuck I can smell her, and it’s driving me fucking wild. It’s the scent of her flowery body wash or something — maybe shampoo. Maybe it’s just that sweet, gorgeous, sexy as all sin college girls just smell fucking nice.

  Maybe I’ve been in this truck too long.

  She lunges for the door over me as we rumble onto the main road, but I stop her. My hands grab her wrists before she can grab the handle, and she screams, her body writhing against me.

  Fuck, my cock responds. Growing, thickening, aching in my jeans as this hot little princess grinds against me. And part of me wants to just keep on letting her do what she’s doing and letting that hot little body writhe against me, but sense gets the best of me.

  “Sit!” I roar, pushing her back. She goes to claw at me, but I catch her wrists again, shoving her back. She turns for Tucker then, like she’s going to get over his lap and the damn steering wheel, but I yank her back before she can send us crashing off the fucking road. Tucker yanks the wheel, careening us off the main road and down a smaller one.

  I know what he’s doing — I don’t know that the assholes back at the Fuel Dump are after us, but if they are, the lesson here is evasion. Doubling back, masking where the fuck we’re going. If push comes to shove, Tuck and I are going to hold our ground no matter who comes after us. But we’re on a timer here. Law Banner pays well, but only if you’re on time. You don’t pull in late to the Banner compound when you’re hauling shit for Law.

  Our little captive tumbles into me though as Tucker yanks the wheel, and that sweet, tight, round, very fucking biteable ass falls into my lap. She gasps, twisting away from me, but not before she’s managed to grind that hot little denim-clad pussy of hers right again my throbbing hard-on.

  “Sit down!” I hiss.

  “Fuck you!”

  I actually grin. Damn this one’s got some fire in her.

  She lunges again, but this time I shove her back and hold her there.

  “You want, I’m happy to get Tucker here to turn this thing around and drop you back off with your friends.”

  Her lips purse, but she goes quiet.

  “You’re welcome, by the way,” I grumble.

  “For kidnapping me?”

  “Yeah, for kidnapping you,” Tucker growls. “Or for saving you.”

  “I’m calling it kidnapping.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  She glares at him and then me, her big blue eyes darting as she pushes wet blonde hair out of her face. My eyes dip, and the beast inside of me roars at the sight of her. The air is cooler in the cab, and those nipples of hers are perking up right through that thin, soaked, tank top with the Greek letters across it. A fucking sorority girl, perfect. But even through the cotton, I can clearly make out cotton candy pink nipples, soft puffy areolas.

  So fucking suckable.

  My mouth waters at the thought of wrapping my lips around them right through her shirt. Her long, toned, tanned legs get my blood roaring, and those flirty little cutoffs and the cowgirl boots have my cock throbbing against the inside of my jeans.

  “The hell were you doing back there?”

  “None of your business,” she snaps.

  “I might be a little more thankful that we made it our business. Unless you wanted to be passed around by Jimbo and his boys back there.”

  Her mouth goes tight, her eyes wide.

  “But I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that that wasn’t your plan for the evening.”

  “No,” she says quietly.

  “Then you’re welcome.”

  She doesn’t say anything back. Tucker cranks the wheel, doubling back again and taking a cut-through road that’ll put us back on route 3 and then back to the interstate going north.

  “The fuck were you doing there?” he growls under his breath at her.

  I almost expect another sassy response, but she just chews on her lip before sighing.

  “My friends left me there.”

  I scowl. “You’ve got shitty friends.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “What the fuck did they leave you for?”

  She sighs, and then slowly shakes her head as she barks out a mirthless laugh. “Because I caught my shitty boyfriend cheating on me with my shitty friend in the Winnebago that we were all road-tripping down to spring break in.”

  My brow shoots up as I eye her, trying to fathom the fucking moron that would choose literally anyone over this girl.

  “Well that’s some bullshit,” Tucker growls.

  She smiles a small, half hidden smile.

  “What’s your name, princess?”

  She glares at
me and I sigh. “I’m Walker, this is Tucker. You might remember us from that time six minutes ago where we beat the shit out of a couple of assholes that were harassing you.”

  She hugs herself, her eyes darting between us skeptically before she swallows.

  “Sierra.”

  “So where are you headed, Sierra?”

  “Florida, but, I don’t want to go there anymore. Obviously. We were coming from Mississippi. That’s where I’m in school.”

  I glance at Tucker over her head and scowl. Shit. Yeah, that’s not exactly on the way to Kentucky, that’s for sure.

  “You got anyone you can call? Money? Do you—”

  The truck’s CB radio squawks to life with a voice addressing our call sign. Tucker frowns and picks up the radio.

  “Yeah this is Tucker, over?”

  “Tuck! It’s Earl.”

  Earl’s the short order cook back the Fuel Dump, and a fellow vet. And Tucker and I have been through enough times to be on the friendly with him.

  “Listen, that to-go order you left here?”

  Tucker frowns. “Earl—”

  “The one you spilled in the parking lot?”

  I scowl. Shit.

  “Yeah, it’s on its way to you, special delivery.”

  Earl’s talking in half code, which is smart considering CB radio is open to anyone to listen to.

  “Well, we might just miss that food this time, Earl,” Tucker mutters. “Over.”

  There’s a second before Earl comes through the radio again. “Got a cell phone there Tucker?”

  Tucker rattles off my cellphone number as Earl signs off with an over and out. My cell buzzes a second later, and when I glance at it, my jaw tightens.

  “Awww, motherfucker.”

  “What’s going on?” Sierra whispers, looking scared.

  She should be.

  I glance at my buddy again, who frowns. “What is it?”

  “Those boys we dropped and the guys inside?”

  “Yeah?”

  “They’re part of Lenny Carter’s crew.”

  Tucker swears viciously.

  Lenny Carter is a mid-level drug-runner out of Florida and Georgia, and an all-around shitbag. He’s been at odds with the Banners before too, if I remember correctly.

  Another text from Earl comes through.

  They’re looking everywhere for you. You and a girl they think you’ve got. Good luck.

  Shit. This is bad, and now it’s time to get our asses back the fuck up to Kentucky. And it looks like she’s coming too, whether she wants to or not. Because with Lenny’s boys looking for a sweet little thing like her, there’s no fucking way we’re not bringing her with us.

  “Wait what’s going on?”

  “We need to get back home, and if you want to stay safe, you’re coming too.”

  She stares at me, her eyes narrowing as she starts to shake her head. “Uh, yeah, no fucking way.” I can see her tense, her eyes darting around like she’s looking for an exit again. But, with this storm following us, we’re the only exit.

  “Get me off of this truck!” she yells.

  “No can do,” Tucker growls, revving the engine.

  “Now!”

  “Hey, princess!” The sharpness in my voice has her whipping her head back to me.

  “Whatever shit you stumbled into back there is after all three of us now. And if you wanna stay safe, you’re coming with us.”

  “You can’t just steal me away to wherever the hell you want!”

  “Yeah,” I growl, leaning in. Sierra gasps, her eyes darting over mine. “Yeah, we can. So buckle up. It’s a long way back to Sugar County, and we’re taking the backroads the whole way.”

  Tucker revs the engine, and we’re off. Two Marines, a truck full of illegal drugs and guns, and one tempting, teasing little hellcat.

  …What could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter 4

  Sierra

  My eyelids feel like concrete. My head spins, the exhaustion and the adrenaline and just being so freaking drained from the day I’ve had slowly coming up to drag me down. My lids droop, and I struggle, forcing them open again. But there's something about the rumble of the engine, the headlights on the yellow lines…

  The two big, hard men sitting on either side of me.

  I swallow thickly. I know I should be scared out of my mind just being here with them. I know I should be thinking of every single Unsolved Mysteries horror story about a young girl hitchhiking, or getting whisked away, or any of those cautionary tales from any number of headlines. But, I’m not scared. Not really. Actually, for whatever reason, there’s this weird feeling of safety with them.

  And slowly, all of it comes together as my eyes start to close.

  …And I sleep.

  In my dream, I’m floating, adrift. I’m floundering in hot, warm water, splashing and reaching out for anything to grab ahold of. But then suddenly, hands are there, grabbing ahold of mine. Strong, powerful hands that grab me. Hands that pull me free of the water and into a hard, chiseled man’s body. My hands trail over hard abs, and when I pull my eyes up, they lock onto him.

  It’s Tucker. One of the two rough truckers who’s just saved me from the group of creeps at the truck stop. He leans down, his dark eyes sparkling, that shadow of scruff across his perfect, chiseled jaw, and those soft-looking lips moving closer.

  I whimper as he kisses me hard, his hands gripping me tightly, pulling me into him. My hand slides down to his jeans, I moan as I cup his huge erection. My body responds, tingling all over, my pulse racing as I feel how fucking big he is in my hand.

  I kiss him harder, deeper — moaning as he claims my lips. And I’m so wet — so wet that I can feel it pooling between my legs and soaking through my panties as I sear my lips to his—

  …And then I wake up.

  I startle. The truck is stopped, and it’s pitch black outside except for the moon shining down. I glance around see that we’re parked on the shoulder of what looks like a forgotten road.

  My pulse races, and I swallow thickly as the dream comes back to me. The memory of his body against mine, my hand on his—

  I freeze.

  My body is against someone. Hard, rippling muscles press into me, my face resting against a warm, muscled chest. I fell asleep, and apparently, I’m sleeping right against Tucker, asleep in the driver’s seat. I blink, my eye dropping down, and my pulse spikes.

  My hand is on his cock. It’s bulging obscenely in his jeans, and my small hand is resting right on it. I gasp quietly, but as much as I know that the response here should be to jerk my hand away, I don’t.

  I can’t. It’s like something magnetic has my hand unable to move away from his big, throbbing bulge.

  I can hear the pulse in his chest, and I pant, my blood thundering through me. My eyes dart across the cab to see Walker asleep on his side, a jacket under his head against the window.

  Part of me wonders if I could escape, or run. It’s still raining outside — the water running in rivulets down the big windshield in front of me. And it’s dark. And again, I have no money or a working cell phone.

  Yeah, no. Running right now would be a terrible idea. And then, again, something about being in this truck with them feels safe — certainly safer than running out into the woods in the middle of nowhere, that’s for sure. So, the best move is to stay here, with them.

  I swallow, my fingers tingling on top of Tucker’s bulge. Slowly, ever so slowly, I drag my gaze up to his face.

  …and I gasp.

  Tucker is wide awake, his eyes piercing right into mine.

  “I— Sorry, I—”

  “Don’t be,” he growls lowly, his voice like honeyed whiskey as it purrs in the darkness of the truck. “I was wondering why I was having such a nice dream.”

  He glances down, and I blush, yanking my hand away from him.

  “Seems I wasn’t the only one, either.”

  His eyes drop to my rock hard nipples, and I blush fierc
ely.

  “I wasn’t…I mean—”

  I realize I’m snuggled right against him, his hand behind me and resting on my ass. My pulse quickens, my body responding to his smell, his touch, his masculine roughness. And I realize that I wasn’t just wet in my dream. I’m wet — my panties soaked through and clinging to my pussy as I press into him.

  I swallow, my eyes darting over this rough, hardened, older trucker there in his cab, our faces inches apart.

  He doesn’t blink, and neither do I.

  He does move.

  I don’t either.

  But then he moves closer, and I still don’t move. He leans in, a low growl rumbling in his throat as his lips move towards me, and I don’t stop him. I don’t move away. God, nothing in this moment makes me ever want to stop him. The blood pumps hot in my veins, and I know this is nuts, but I can’t stop it. There’s something too magnetic about him — something too captivating about his manly scent or whatever it is. Something too enticing about how bad this is.

  “You know what I knew when I saw you back at that diner?” he growls.

  I shake my head, captivated, unable to move, my pulse hammering in my ears.

  “That you were mine.”

  His lips close the distance, and suddenly, he’s kissing me. I moan, the dream rushing back as I melt against his rock hard body. His arms tighten, pulling me against him as his hand slides over the denim covering my ass. I gasp as his kiss intensifies, his tongue pushing at my lips, demanding entrance.

  And I oblige.

  I open my mouth for him, moaning as he claims it as his own, his lips bruising mine as he pulls me against him. The rain thunders down on the roof and down the windshield as he kisses me and sends me reeling. My hand drops, like it’s got a mind of its own, right down onto his bulge again. Fire blushes through me, and I whimper heatedly into his kiss. His hand slides over my ass, his fingers teasing at the back waist of my jeans. They slip under, his hand running along the lacy edge of my white thong panties. He hooks a finger into them, tugging a little and making me moan into his mouth. I can feel the soaked panties pulling tight against my pussy — molding to my pouty lips and soaking through even more.