Riding Danger Page 9

  "Okay, I’m impressed. Genuinely," he said in that tone Sharon used to crave so much. She was a person lived by her wits her entire life and Jason Larson was the first person who saw anything of value in her. In many ways, even though she educated herself, had quit the self-destructive lifestyle that she had caught herself up in, and was her own woman, she still was vulnerable to his assurances. "That doesn't have to change. Lots of things will change now that I am out, but your working here isn't one of them."

  In a fit of craziness, overwhelmed by the completely unexpected change, Sharon picked up a rolled towel from a small pyramid the receptionist had created with them and hurled it at him. "Out! Until I have proof, out! You can't just walk in my job and tell me that you own the place!"

  It was a ridiculous tirade, and a feeble one at that. No one at Ink's would normally answer to her, but because she was one of the few drug-free employees and was a good looking woman, Marty—the manager—let her stand in for him when he wanted to have some down time. Still, Sharon had little clout and Jason Larson was a mammoth of a man. She wasn't going to make him do anything he didn't want to do. His arms were as big around as her thighs and his reflexes, for all her fitness and all his prison time, were much swifter. He swept her up and shuffled her into the office just off to the side of the receptionist area.

  Maybe she egged him on. If she wasn't sure before that she secretly wanted him to throw his arms around her, she was awfully sure now. The warmth and hardness of his body was intensely intoxicating. Her head went hazy with the magic of their chemistry. Apparently the same was true for him, for when they had the privacy of the closed office, he took her mouth for his.

  He tasted her thoroughly, sweeping her mouth with his hot, wet tongue. Sharon heard herself moan. He was hungry. Ten years in prison. Sharon didn't know about things like consortium visits or how that all worked; she only knew she hadn't visited him. Sharon found herself yearning, though she had someone. She was engaged to be married—a decision she made as a way to get on with her life more than anything.

  Unfortunately, if that someone found out she was in the office at work with his rival's tongue in her mouth, no one would walk away too happy. It didn't matter; these few seconds with Jason were worth it to Sharon. No one turned her on like this man did now. She realized, entwined with him the way she was, that she had been in a prison of her own all these years, starving for what he gave her every time he touched her body.

  Jason pulled away and whispered to her, "I am back, Shari, baby. I am sorry if that puts a fly in your ointment but if you give me a rough time or hurl things at me, this is what’s going to happen—or more. I tamed you once. I will tame you again." Jason lowered his head for one more taste.

  "Those days are gone," Sharon said after indulging him for a little longer. "I am not the same woman. I am not your woman. I belong to Lance Sanchez." At the mention of that name, Jason's whole body stiffened and his face threatened to split off his skull. It was rumored, but never confirmed, that Lance Sanchez was the one who framed Jason and cost him ten years of his life. "I'm engaged to be married to him."

  "Hm," he said. "So you've been in his bed. How was it?" Sharon turned away, not even able to think about being with Lance while in Jason’s arms. He chuckled. “Kind of figured on that.”

  "It's really none of your business."

  "I wasn't asking. I was remarking." He regained himself and as quickly as that, grew very dark. "I am now the last man you've kissed. And I aim to keep it that way."

  She wanted to scoff him but he could make his threat a reality. The second he said that, Sharon knew her happiness—or rather, the calm and orderliness of her life—were in peril and things would no longer be the same now that Jason Larson was out of prison and back to reclaim her.

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