Free Taking What's His (Forced Submission Book 4) by Alexa Riley

Sly
    I never cared for easy women. Most men who drive trucks and are unattached usually want easy and no strings. Not me. I've been looking for the one, and I’m not going to soil myself on the path to finding her. 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.
    She stood out in a shithole like this. The vinyl flooring was cracked and worn, the countertops stained with permanent marks, and the smell of grease just hung in the air. 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.
    She's completely unaware of the danger she's in. She isn't just innocent, she’s naive. 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. I’m far more dangerous because I look like someone she could trust. Someone who would help her if she needed it because it’s how my mama raised me.
    As I make my way towards her, she finally glances up. Her green eyes meet mine and they go wide, a blush hitting her cheeks. Fucking perfect. I'm going to love seeing that blush for the rest of my life. I wonder if her body will blush in other areas. I could strip her naked, talk dirty to her and see how far it would spread.
    “May I?” I ask, nodding to the empty side of the booth. Nervously looking around, she bites her lips, drawing my eyes there before she nods back at me.
    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. She's here, I’ve seen her, and that sealed her fate. Now it’s just a matter of how hard she’s going to fight.
    “What's your name, darling?” I inquire, letting my southern drawl bleed through. People seem to be comforted by it. It gives them a false sense of ease that I'm just the good old boy from next door. I even give her one on my dimples to add to the effect.
    "Cameron." She barely looks up at me, fiddling with the empty sugar packets lying on the chipped, worn table.
    ‘I’m Sly, Cameron. It’s nice to meet you.” I reach out, and it takes her a few beats but she takes my hand in hers. I slowly swipe my index finger across her wrist, feeling how soft she is there. She tries to pull her hand back, but I only grip her a little tighter, not releasing her. Her big green eyes shoot to mine, finally locking on me. I feel the pulse in her wrist pick up.

    “ T here you are , sweetheart. No need to be scared. I came over because you looked…” I glance around the diner, “…out of place.” But she’s going to look perfect in the back of my cab as I pound into her. My cock jerks at the thought. Fuck, I’ve got to get her out of here. I’ve been waiting too long for her and she’s finally here, literally in my grasp.
    It’s for the best, really. I can’t let a little bitty thing like her run around on her own, showing up in diners at 2 a.m. with hungry lonely men on the road looking for something like her. The difference between them and me is I wouldn’t use her and toss her aside. No, she’ll be mine forever, and I’ll protect her from herself.
    “I’m fine, just…ah…waiting for someone,” she lies, but I play into it. Laying my ground work.
    “That someone let you come to a diner in the middle of nowhere at two in the morning all by yourself? That doesn’t seem too safe.”
    “I’m really fine. I actually should get going.” She pulls her hand from mine, making her way to stand, but I grab her as she tries to pass.
    “Sugar, it’s not safe out there, and you shouldn’t be alone.” I look out the window and back at her. “It’s starting to rain.” She looks down at me, like she’s searching for something in my eyes, and I make them as soft as possible, letting concern show through because it