"Put it on," he demanded.
Her mouth fell open and she finally looked around. Where the f**k were they? She saw nothing but desert and scrub brush in both directions. He'd clearly pulled off the main highway and parked on some back road. And if he was intent on taking her across the border, then they must still be in the United States. Before she had a chance to ask he reached for the hem of her tank top and jerked it up.
"No!" she croaked, pulling back. The material ripped in his hands and without waiting for her to react, he tore the shirt right off her body, heedless of her struggles.
Riley whimpered in protest, a new kind of panic welling up within her. f**k, f**k, f**k! Was he about to rape her in the f*****g dirt on the side of the road? She wasn't even wearing a damn bra. Her arms
