EXCERPT: The Hitchhiker By Charlie Lee
"You can run, but can you hide?"
Life was perfect.
I was on top of the world winning one case after the other leaving no survivors in the wake of my devastation. They may see a pair of long legs in Louboutin heels, but remember my name when I'm finished with them.
Caitlin Winslow, the best, cut-throat defense lawyer in California.
I never play to lose.
It's not in my DNA.
The actions of ethics don't exist in my domain.
Satan, my father, who shaped my life turns up dead. Kill shot to the back of the head in his sleep. The people who murdered him aren't stopping with his death. They're after me.
I ran in the dark of night. Karma that evil bitch meets me step by step and forced me to stick out my thumb on the side of the lonely highway. I'm now the HITCHHIKER begging for redemption.
Oh, how life has a funny way of smacking you in the face.
Katch Sterling storms into my life, and now I'm in his car.
My complete opposite.
Who would've thought my world would come full circle on that lonely highway with a hired killer...
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We don’t have a thing in common, and yet here I sit, turning my car around after she begged me to please take her to the Starbucks we just passed. What the hell is wrong with me? I have no clue what it is about her that has me tied up in knots I can’t slip out of. If I don’t tone my shit down now, she’ll be pulling me along from the rope attached to my dick.
“Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order?”
“Get your ass over here and tell her what you want,” I instruct.
“Quit being so bossy.” I’m about ready to show her how bossy I can be when she unfastens her seatbelt, hangs half her body over the bench seat with her palms planted on the leather console, and gives me a view of her tits.
Fuck me. Her cleavage is spilling out of her black lace bra. Her fucking tits are perfect, and if I have anything to say about it, it won’t be long before they are in my mouth and my dick is sliding in between them. My cum would make the perfect fucking necklace right under her face.
“Um. You can pull up now,” she says, eyeing me with her tell-all eyes. She knew exactly what I was doing, and she instigated it.
I am so fucked when her luscious lips quirk up into a devious smile. Damn her.
“You pull a stunt like that again, and I won’t hesitate to rip that shirt off of you.”
“I’d like to see you try,” she challenges.
I don’t reply, not until I pull up and pay the lady who shakily takes the money out of my hand without looking at me.
Caitlin starts laughing her cute little ass off when I hand her coffee and tuck the change in my pocket.
“What the fuck you laughing at now?”
“You. That lady heard everything you said. I’m sure of it.”
“I don’t give a shit. What I do give a shit about is you flashing me your tits. You keep that shit up, and I’m skipping Target. Taking you to my place and cuffing you to my bed. I’ll fuck those giggles right out of you and won’t stop until you’re raw and passed out. Now, drink that shit.”
Hollywood clutches the cup of coffee in one hand while the other stays planted on the leather bench seat. Her tongue darts out licking her bottom lip. She’s fucking feeling me as much as I am her. We both want to fucking ravage each other, that much is clear. It’s fucked up and a mystery that I can’t even start to solve.
Her bottom lip is glistening with the wetness of her mouth. Yeah. I’m fucking that, too. I suddenly have a powerful urge to taste her, but hell if I’ll reward her fucking little stunt. I run the pad of my thumb along her bottom lip, soaking up her taste. Caitlin freezes at my touch. Her breath hitches. She stares at me, waiting for my next move. Slowly and without breaking eye contact, I bring my thumb to my mouth and taste her.
It’s gut instinct when my eyes close and I fight to keep in a moan. The sweetest of sweet tastes glides over my taste buds. Big mistake. I lean down and finally open my eyes with my forearm brushing up against her tits and whisper over her lips.
“Remember my fucking promise.” I pause for a beat. “Because it will happen.”
I sit back down in the driver’s seat not looking back over to the woman who has my dick straining painfully against my zipper. The thought of one layer between us doesn’t help fucking matters, so I focus on the road ahead.
Caitlin sits quietly in her seat on the short drive. She sips her coffee, and I’d bet a fucking ton of money she’s wet as hell, dying for some friction between her long fucking legs. Again, not one thought helps my hard dick calm down.
I kill the engine and go to step out of the car.
“Money.” Caitlin looks over to me. “ I need money.”
“Get the fuck out, Hollywood.”
When she listens and doesn’t resort to her arguing, I know I have her strung taut with the need to be fucked properly. Guarantee the stuffy suits have never taken this woman the way I will.
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