Page 29 of Sentinel's Kiss

“One, the driver chooses the music.”

“Fair enough. But I reserve the right to lower the volume.” All the way to off, if he put on country or rap.

Josh inclined his head. “Second, when the music isn’t playing, you have to talk to me so I don’t fall asleep behind the wheel.”

Ashley wondered what he had been doing the night before that he looked so bleary-eyed this morning. She stuffed back a pang of jealousy. They weren’t dating. They were just each other’s booty call. Still, she wondered if some other girl thought she had him all to herself.

“What’s the third?” she asked.

“Feel free to blow me or give me a hand job. My concentration is outstanding.”

“So is your ego,” she said. “Is that the reason why you want to tag along—great sex?”

“Is that so surprising?” He arched a blond eyebrow at her. “I also want to get to know you.”

“And you think a four-hour road trip is the best way to do that?”

“If worse comes to worst, I can pull over and we can put the backseat to good use.”

“I told you, I have a deadline.” But she was rapidly calculating the miles in her head. They probably could get in a quickie. It would go a long way toward pushing her mother’s callous remarks way back into the nether regions of her brain.

“I’ll drive real fast to make up for it.”

Tempting.

Ashley shook her head. He really was something else, but she wasn’t complaining. He might make her summer on Long Island bearable. That is, if she could keep him on the down low so her father didn’t find out. Even if she could convince Josh to clean up and drop the denim-and-motorcycle routine, there was an edge of danger about him that would get any father’s protective streak up.

“So where were you last night that’s got you so tired?” Ashley asked, trying not to wince at how possessive that sounded.

Josh just shrugged and looked over at her. Was he blushing? “You know, the usual.”

The usual, huh? Good thing they were using condoms. “What was her name?” she said, bitchy sweet.

“Molly and Victoria.”

Ashley was sorry she’d asked.

“Actually, it’s not what you think,” he said.

“No.” She held out her hand. “You don’t owe me an explanation.” And luckily her phone rang. It was her producer. “I’ve got to take this.”

Josh shook his head. He flipped up her skirt and put his hand on her knee. She should push it off, but she spread her legs instead.

“Hi, Nancy,” Ashley said into the phone. “We’re on our way.” Finally.

“Turn around. I need you back on Long Island. Get to the Suffolk County Police Department.”

“What? Why?”

“You know the rapist that got a slap on the wrist?”

Ashley snorted. “Can you be more specific?” Josh was tracing little circles on the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh now. She slumped down in her seat, relaxing a bit. He was a much better road trip companion than Harry.

“Bryce Fallon. That rich douche that the judge gave community service to because he didn’t think that a jail sentence would be good for the kid.”

“Oh yeah, that asshole. What about him?”

“Dead.”