Driven By Fate(7)

She lifted an eyebrow. “You need a ride somewhere?”

He gestured to the automobile. “Don’t tell me you drive this thing.”

“Well, I can’t fly it.”

The nerve endings behind his right eye started to snap. “Francesca—”

“Frankie.”

“—hmm. You drive around and pick up strangers in the city. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” He pressed two fingers to his temple. “Who allowed this?”

She backed up a step. “All right, man. I’m seriously starting to think you flew here in a time machine from, like, Downton Abbey times or something. I have to go.”

Time to cut the shit. This situation tonight had been unexpected, but at one time he’d thrived on the unexpected. Thrived on chaos. Time to get his head together and figure out just what he wanted from this encounter. Her. Yes, he wanted her. Furthermore, he had a way to accomplish that end. All it required was him pulling his head out of his ass. Objective number one? Convince her to go home safely and not pick up possible serial killers off the street in that yellow contraption. Two? Find a way to see her again so he could figure out why she seemed to…matter.

She jiggled her car keys. “The offer of a ride is about to expire.”

“I don’t need a ride,” Porter snapped, before taking a centering breath. “I do, however, have a proposition for you.” He expected another quip about his choice of language. Instead, her mouth parted, cheeks coloring. Her gaze dropped to his still-swollen cock, a hand rising to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. Such an endearing gesture, totally at odds with her confidence, making his fascination with her grow. “Come work for me.”

Her head came up. “What?”

“How much do you make driving this cab?”

“That question is more personal than a spanking.”

His right hand flexed just hearing the word, and the reminder it called forth. God, her sweet, round ass. “You need to pay back Preston. I need an assistant.”

“Oh no. No way.” Her laughter echoed on the dark street. “I am not working for you. ‘Can I light a fire in the hearth for you, my lord?’ Fuck that.”

He nodded at the cab. “Whatever you’re making driving this thing, I will double it.”

She opened her mouth, closed it. Opened it again. “This thing has a name, you know.”

“And that name is?”

“Delta Burke. I drove her across town once and she was delightful.”

“So you named your cab after this…person?” He held up a hand. “Never mind. Yes, I will pay you double what you make driving Delta Burke.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “What’s the catch?”

Porter took an experimental step toward her. Just like when he’d said the word proposition, her mask slipped and she turned into the girl she’d been upstairs. Breathless, green. Hungry for something she didn’t fully understand. She pressed back against the side of the cab, palms flattening on the door. An invitation to come closer? He took another step and she whimpered. Fuck’s sake. This girl needed more than a single, quick orgasm. She needed repeated f*cking, and a man to ensure she received it. Cautiously, he allowed their bodies to align and she completely melted, her slight curves marrying his harder planes. His body took over, dipping and lifting to put his erection squarely between her legs. “The catch.” He looked her in the eye while he rolled his hips, absorbed her trembling response. “The catch is this. When the clock says five o’clock and your workday is over, the real work begins. You’ll spend the day making my cock stiff and the night relieving me.”

“That’s an awful lot of my time you’re planning to take up.”

“Yes.”

“I-I have school.”

He breathed against her ear. “I’ll work around it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I didn’t plan on this when I came here. I thought—”

“You thought what?” He pinned her against the cab with his hips, gritting his teeth when she moaned. “You thought you’d sneak into my room, get a taste, and walk away? Francesca, you liked it too much. You would have been back.”

“I know that now. I planned on coming back.” Her eyes opened in degrees, focusing on him. “I just didn’t plan on the next time being with you.”

Wrong thing to say. She knew it, too. He could tell by the way her mouth slammed shut. Possessiveness he had no right to feel rose inside him like an accelerated tide, drowning his common sense. Christ. What if she’d walked into someone else’s room tonight, instead of his? She’d obviously come to Serve hoping to learn something about herself and the possibility that someone else could have had the privilege of teaching her…it didn’t sit well. It made him sick, actually.

“Only me from now on, Francesca.” He spoke flush against her lips, moving them with his own. “If you agree, it’ll only be me. A lot of me. As soon as five o’clock hits, I’m not going to stop f*cking you. There will be begging and screaming and marks left behind. I’m not an easy man. Know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Traffic passed behind them. She stared at his mouth, wanting to be kissed. He couldn’t, though. Could he? Kissing women had always been a means to an end, but kissing this one would be like cannonballing into a black hole. How did he know that? Her obvious disappointment when he didn’t kiss her slayed him.