I slowly swipe my index finger across her wrist, feeling how soft she is there. It’s nice to meet you.” I reach out, and it takes her a few beats but she takes my hand in hers. 'Cameron.' She barely looks up at me, fiddling with the empty sugar packets lying on the chipped, worn table. I even give her one on my dimples to add to the effect. It gives them a false sense of ease that I'm just the good old boy from next door. “What's your name, darling?” I inquire, letting my southern drawl bleed through.

Now it’s just a matter of how hard she’s going to fight. She's here, I’ve seen her, and that sealed her fate. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her what she's doing in a place like this, but that doesn't matter. Nervously looking around, she bites her lips, drawing my eyes there before she nods back at me.

“May I?” I ask, nodding to the empty side of the booth. I could strip her naked, talk dirty to her and see how far it would spread. I wonder if her body will blush in other areas. I'm going to love seeing that blush for the rest of my life. Her green eyes meet mine and they go wide, a blush hitting her cheeks. Someone who would help her if she needed it because it’s how my mama raised me.Īs I make my way towards her, she finally glances up. I’m far more dangerous because I look like someone she could trust.

Four other truckers occupy the diner, but the difference between them and me is while they look rough around the edges, she’d be able to tell them to stay away. She's completely unaware of the danger she's in.

They might have the best burgers for three hundred miles, but she doesn't look like she belongs here, even less so at two o'clock in the morning, when people out at this hour are only looking for one thing. The vinyl flooring was cracked and worn, the countertops stained with permanent marks, and the smell of grease just hung in the air. Like most things in life, I take what I want, and I knew she was the one when I walked into this rundown diner off Interstate 72. I've been looking for the one, and I’m not going to soil myself on the path to finding her. Most men who drive trucks and are unattached usually want easy and no strings. To everyone who loves to be held down and told what to do… Your secret is safe with me.

Taking What's Hers by Alexa Riley