Drive: Cougars, Cars and Kink, Book 1 by Teresa Noelle Roberts Read Free Book Online

had the other car turned after him, and it had pulled into a driveway moments later.
    But he still felt uneasy. The men had been in a different vehicle the second time he’d spotted them, and he suspected they’d been trailed part of the way with a completely different car driven by different people. So who knew who might have spotted them, passed intel on to…whoever was in charge.
    Which, he told himself firmly, was crazy talk. This couldn’t be some kind of large-scale operation. It wouldn’t make sense.
    Not unless Suzanne wasn’t what she appeared to be. Soccer-mom drug kingpin? Suburban madam who’d blackmailed the wrong person? He’d heard of weirder things.
    More likely, though, an innocent woman who’d caught the wrong person’s attention. She hadn’t admitted to any misguided dating adventures or creepy clients, but maybe she just hadn’t made the connection. Dealers and mobsters might get bored and lonely and check out OKCupid or FetLife, but they probably took a brush-off even less gracefully than the average online creeper. Or, as he said earlier, this had to do with him or maybe even his father, and they’d been using the Mustang as an excuse.
    He glanced at her again, got hit by another wave of rampaging lust. Something else, too, something that made him want to protect her—not like he protected the public as a cop, but in a more personal way, like a knight in freaking armor or something like that, defending his lady.
    She’d better not turn out to be a criminal. He’d made it this far without fucking any criminals, as far as he knew. It would be a shame to spoil that record. And he had every intention of fucking her, and doing other things with, for and to her, if she’d let him.
    Which he was pretty sure she would.
    At least he was sure of something, because everything else was damn fucked up. Nothing like stumbling into what might or might not be a crime off duty and outside his jurisdiction.
    * * * * *
    Thank goodness for small mercies. Plenty of room for the Mustang in Sam’s garage, next to a well-loved Jeep, still splattered with mud from previous adventures. As a bonus, Neil found a large tarp, still in its package, which he threw over the shiny red vehicle. “Ought to be a crime to hide something this pretty,” he muttered.
    Suzanne nodded her agreement as she grabbed the other side of the tarp. She helped him position it, adding, “I have a cover for it at home. But who knew we’d need it?”
    “Yeah.”
    He let them in through the back door. God, he’d given his friend grief so many times about leaving his key under a rock by the steps, but he was grateful today. Tonight, more like, because the sun was setting.
    The little Cape was simple, no-frills, and achingly tidy. Neil teased Sam that he’d make someone a great service sub someday, although the neatness was a habit he’d gotten into from living on ships for long stretches and a level of self-discipline (and discipline of a few select friends) that made Neil look like a slacker. They entered the kitchen, which looked like Neil’s friend had scrubbed it before he left.
    Of course there was nothing in the fridge except some condiments and a lonely can of root beer.
    Suzanne was looking around, though, like it was the frigging Four Seasons combined with Disneyland.
    No, Neil realized, she wasn’t. She was just trying to avoid meeting his gaze. She moved restlessly, just out of reach. Hovering. Anxious. Well, of course she was anxious, but he sensed the anxiety wasn’t just about the crazy situation and all the unknowns, but about being alone with him.
    About what might happen next.
    He’d set up a good, responsible plan while driving here, a plan that involved contacting his lieutenant, running those plates, seeing if anyone knew anything about men fitting their stalkers’ description or if there’d been reports of similar incidents. This plan involved dinner, even if it had to be pizza or whatever else delivered in