"...fucking jackass, press the gas pedal and then the car will go..." The drive back to Philadelphia was plagued by traffic. I don't know why Robert found this surprising. Probably because he so rarely drove himself. If the driver got stuck in a traffic jam, Robert could just lean back and close his eyes, or maybe answer some emails on his endlessly pinging Blackberry. To actually have to sit and stare at the brake lights of the car in front of him was an experience he wasn't used too. And it was making him even angrier than he already was. "...who the fuck you think you are, anyway. Piece of trailer trash from Pennsyltucky. You're nothing without me and you know it....” Spittle flew from his mouth and the vein at his temple throbbed an angry warning. I was in serious trouble. I wedged myself against the passenger door. But I was not out of his arms' reach. Try as I might, I could not shrink myself down to nothing. I could only hope that the traffic would clear soon so he would have to pay attention to the road again.
What do You think about FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance?
