Текст книги "Dangerously Broken"

Автор книги: Eden Bradley

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“Oh yeah.”

“What are you doing here, Summer Grace?”

There was just enough light coming in through the window of the Rae’s family room for him to see she was wearing that skimpy outfit she called pajamas, but was really nothing more than a midriff-baring tank top and tiny cotton knit shorts. He could see her nipples under the thin fabric of the top. The sweet floral print did nothing to make it any more innocent-looking. His dick jumped.

She crawled onto the couch, straddling his body. He was too stunned to do anything but lie perfectly still. Could she feel his erection through the cotton sheet covering him?

“I came to see you,” she whispered. “I came to see all of you.”

She slowly pulled the sheet down, already the temptress at fourteen years old.

Fuck. Fourteen years old!

He grabbed at her hand as the sheet came down and revealed his tented boxers.

“Goddamn it, Summer Grace.”

He yanked the sheet back up.

She leaned down until her mouth was mere inches from the rise under the sheet.

“Come on, Jamie. Let me see it. Let me kiss it.” She batted her baby blues at him. “I know how.”

Fourteen. Fuck.

“Go away. You have to go. Go!”

She wasn’t going now. He wasn’t about to tell her to. And he wasn’t going to jerk himself off tonight to the image of her hard nipples under that floral top the way he had for too many years. No, now he was going to come with her. Inside her.

Yes.

“Enough, sugar. And tell me you have a condom in here somewhere.”

She licked her lips. Sexy as hell. Why had he waited so many years? “Of course I do.”

She turned and rolled over onto her stomach, and he watched the curve of her perfect little heart-shaped ass as she reached into the nightstand drawer, pulling out a small foil packet. Instead of handing it to him she tore at it with her teeth, making him smile. Oh, he liked this girl. Every bit the sex kitten he’d always known she was, and yet more, somehow.

She took the condom out as he kicked his way out of his black boots, then his jeans, climbing onto the bed, one knee on either side of her hips.

“Put it on me,” he instructed her.

She slipped the latex down over his hard shaft, and he had to bite back a groan at her touch. He warned himself one more time before he was inside her.

Control.

But as soon as she lay back and opened her sweet thighs for him, her naked little pussy glistening with need and come, as wanton as any woman he’d ever seen and twice as beautiful, he almost lost it. He had to bite the inside of his lip, to take a breath to center himself. And he pressed one hand down hard on her shoulder, exerting his command over her so that he would know it as much as she did. He touched the tip of his cock to her opening, and she smiled, her eyes gleaming. One small tilt of his hips and he was in.

She gasped, but she never took her gaze from his. And even in that moment when he thought all he’d be considering was finally being inside her body, the ecstasy burning like a fuse up his spine, something in him broke open. Let go. She felt it, too—he saw it in the way her pupils went wide, in the parting of her lips, the look of awe on her lovely face. And in that moment something shifted. A small voice in the back of his mind told him he’d lied to himself about why he’d come here. It wasn’t about settling some kind of old debt of mutual lust. It was her.

Summer Grace.

He was fucked.

But there she was beneath him, all big blue eyes and plush pink lips. He laid a hand between her breasts, felt her erratic heartbeat. Her small fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding him there.

“Jamie . . .”

“What is it, sugar?”

“I need you,” she whispered.

He shook his head. He couldn’t figure it all out now. Not with her naked body twined around his. He’d think later. He couldn’t do anything, couldn’t feel anything but this. Her.

“I’m here, sugar girl,” he murmured, capturing her hand in his and raising it over her head as he slid deeper into her.

Then it was all sighs and moans, desire met by the rapture of touch and response. Building, coiling. Inside she was like satin, tight and smooth, surrounding his flesh. He pushed into her, slid out easy as silk, she was so damn wet. Her other hand came up, grasping his wrist, and he’d never seen anything more beautiful than her pleasure-torn face, her arms over her head, entrapped by sensation, as lost in it as he was.

With his other hand he brought both her knees up and together until they were pinned between his chest and hers, and he pressed her down with his body. He needed to command her completely, to make her entirely his. Surging in and out of her, slow and rhythmically, then hard and fast, then slow and steady again, desire spiraled impossibly. She was panting, moaning, whispering his name. He swore he could feel every detail of her body: the velvet texture inside her dragging at his rigid cock, her baby-smooth skin all over. He’d never seen anything as exquisite as Summer Grace’s face, those feline blue eyes as he thrust, pleasure shimmering into his body until he was gasping, biting back his climax.

“Come for me, sugar,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Come on, now.”

“Ah, God, Jamie. You feel so damn good,” she panted. “I can’t . . . I can’t believe how good you feel. How you fill me up.”

“Then come again, sweetheart. I want to feel you like a fist around me. I want to feel your need, your clenching. Come, my girl.”

“Oh.” Her voice trembled. Her body trembled. And then her sweet pussy clenched, over and over. Tightening around him like a glove. Like the purest pleasure he’d ever known.

“Ah, yes, sugar girl. Yes, yes, yes . . .”

He shivered as the first wave of orgasm slammed into him and shook him to the core. The last thing he saw before sensation blinded him was her face. The flush of her climax on her cheeks. Pleasure like a thousand glittering stars in her eyes. Beauty like he’d never seen before in his life. Then the world went black as he shuddered and groaned.

“Ah, Christ, my baby girl. Yes!” He could barely breathe, sensation making his gut clench, his balls, his brain. He pulled in a gasping breath, muttered, “Oh yeah. Yes, sweetheart. So good. You feel like fucking heaven, I swear it. So good.”

He let her legs go and gathered her in his arms, holding her tight, crushing her small body to his. She was squirming a little, just flexing her hands on his back, her nails digging in. Didn’t matter. All that mattered was whatever was buzzing though his system. Inside his chest. He didn’t know what it was. Didn’t understand. Didn’t matter. She was there with him. His Summer Grace.

Finally he realized she really was squirming, and her gasping had switched from panting breath to what he thought were small sobs.

He pulled back to look at her. Sure enough there were tears pooling in her eyes.

“Fuck. Did I hurt you, sweetheart? Injure you? I was holding you so tight.”

She sniffed, pushed at his chest. “It’s not that, Goddamn it, Jamie.”

“What, then?”

“It’s this. Us. I don’t know why I thought I could do this. All these years of wanting you and you rejecting me. And now you come to my house and take me to bed and it was fucking amazing!”

“I . . . may still be mostly brainless from the best orgasm of my life, sugar girl, but I’m not understanding what the problem is.”

Yet some part of him did. This was fucking dangerous, if she was feeling anything like he was. Things he wasn’t ready to look at too closely. He wasn’t ready to let her go. Fucking amazing was right.

“God, men are so dense.” She pushed at his chest again, trying to get out from under him, but he wasn’t having it.

“Let’s just calm down here. Because this was good, and we barely even took the time to make it everything it could be. Everything it should be, Summer Grace. I’ll admit I’ve been dense. I’ve been a damn idiot. But I’m here now.”

“Yes, now. And you think we can do this—be together in my bed—as if we’d just met? Had no history? We have a damn complicated history, Jamie.”

His chest was going tight. “You wanted this as much as I did,” he said, his tone low.

“Yes. I did. More, maybe. But now . . .”

“Now what?”

“Yes, exactly. Now what? Where do we go from here?” She sounded so vulnerable it made him ache.

Focus on this—on the reason you came here.

He drew in a long breath. “Okay. This is what I know. I want to see you again. I want us to have those negotiations. I want to play you. Here, at the club, however you want it to be. Can you tell me you don’t want those things?”

Her tight shoulders slumped. She sniffed again. “No. I’d be lying if I did. But Jamie, I feel like this whole situation is too . . . loaded. Do you know what I mean?”

Her eyes were so big. He saw fear there and it made his chest go tight. He stroked a few strands of her silky blonde hair away from her flushed cheek. “I do know. I don’t think anyone but you and I could possibly have any idea how deep this goes, how complicated it is, not even the people who know us best. There’s always been a connection that belongs to just the two of us. It’s taken me a long time to realize it, and feeling that punch to the gut seeing you at the club—I’ll admit that. But I know it’s there.”

She bit her lip and blinked a few times, her features softening. “Jamie? Will you kiss me? Because when you’re kissing me I sort of stop thinking and I’m pretty sure that’s what I need to do right now.”

He smiled. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

He bent and pressed his lips to hers, and she opened up to him, her tongue warm and seeking. And together they lost themselves in each other, letting the worries of their strange and unique situation fall away.

*   *   *

SUMMER DRIFTED, HALF asleep, half dreaming. Brandon. Why was she thinking of her brother now, with his best friend lying next to her, his breathing shallow with sleep? Sleep that invaded her body, her mind, forcing her into its depths.

Brandon came into the kitchen, slamming the back door behind him like he always did. Mom hated that, but he did it anyway. It was a guy thing, she knew.

He ruffled her hair as she sat at the table with her history book opened in front of her. “Hey, little sis. I brought you some of that saltwater taffy you like.” He tossed a white bag down on the table. “Strawberry, right?”

“Thanks, Bran.” She reached eagerly for the bag as he sat down across from her.

“What are you doing, Summer Grace?”

“Studying. World War One. Ugh!” She bit into the taffy and it melted on her tongue.

“No, I mean what are you doing with Jamie? Seriously, what the hell?”

Her heart sank, the taffy suddenly like chalk in her mouth.

“Brandon,” she tried to say, but the taffy seemed to expand, and she couldn’t swallow enough to talk.

His blond brows drew together. “Tell me, sis. Tell me why you’re doing this to me,” he demanded, his features full of pain. “Tell me why you’re doing this to Mom and Dad.”

Shaking her head, her chest flooded with panic. She had to explain. She tried to spit the candy out into her hand, then tried to pull it out, but it was stuck. She was stuck. With her mouth full of candy. With what she’d done.

Her big brother shook his head. “I can’t believe you, Summer Grace. I can’t believe you’d do this to us—I can’t believe you’d do this to your family. It’s all your fault. Everything is.”

No!

If only she could tell him . . . Tell him something. Explain herself. But all she could do was choke on the sugar hardening in her mouth—choke on her own actions while her brother stormed out the back door. She knew he’d never come back.

Summer woke in a cold sweat, clutching the sheets to her chest.

Just a dream.

Brandon would never talk to her like that. He would never judge her so harshly. Would he? He used to tease her about her crush on Jamie, but he was her brother, and he’d never thought in a million years that Jamie would feel the same. Maybe. Why had he said that about their parents? They wouldn’t even care that she was with Jamie. That was crazy. Wasn’t it?

Fuck.

She threw the covers back and threw on a tank top and a pair of shorts and quietly crept from the room, leaving Jamie asleep in her bed.

She went outside and sat in one of the white wicker chairs on her small brick patio, her arms wrapped around herself, trying to shake off the nightmare. The sun was high in the brilliant blue sky and it was far too hot to be outside in New Orleans in July, but she felt like she had to breathe.

It was just a bad dream. It wasn’t real.

No, only her time with Jamie was real—that and the apparent emotional repercussions.

They’d stayed in bed for hours, exploring each other’s bodies in a way she’d never done with any other man—and she’d had her share. But this was different. Maybe too different. Especially when it came to her dreams turning into some kind of crazy reality she still couldn’t quite believe. And because she’d realized when she came out of her pleasure-soaked stupor that he was only there because he’d seen her at The Bastille and felt jealous when he’d seen her playing with someone else. She’d laid there for a good half hour but the knot in her stomach hadn’t gone away. It had been a relief to finally drift into sleep.

She was sure the possibility that maybe next time she’d be bottoming for one of the male Doms at the club had crossed his mind. And she was equally certain he hadn’t liked it. He’d let her know he felt possessive when it came to her. She’d reveled in the idea when they were naked together, but after the second time they’d had sex—mind-blowing sex, damn it!—he’d dozed off, leaving her to stare at the ceiling and come back down to earth. And the truth.

Jamie felt some ownership over her. Always had. She understood it, to some extent anyway—to the small extent she could accept anyone feeling that way toward her. Her big brother had asked Jamie to take care of her when he lay dying in the hospital, and Jamie took the promise he’d made seriously. She knew that. She also knew he desired her, but that didn’t necessarily equal anything more. She’d been a fool to simply fall into his arms without really fully considering their history. All she knew about him. All she knew about herself.

Madame came strolling out from behind a bush and rubbed against her bare legs, her white fur soft on her skin. She leaned down and petted the cat, who put up with it for several moments before sinuously slipping away and settling on the bricks a foot or two from Summer, blinking in the sunlight.

“There was good reason why I gave up on him last year,” she told the cat. “I’d finally come to my senses. And now where has all my sense gone? Blown to pieces beneath the force of the irresistible Jamie Stewart-Greer. It’s those damn dimples.” She sighed, blew out a breath, coiling her long hair into a knot on top of her head and holding it there, baring her neck to the tiny breeze blowing through her garden. “I bet you never had to deal with dimples, Madame. Being a cat must be so much easier than being . . . me.”

“Hey, sugar.”

She turned to find Jamie standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but his jeans. They weren’t zipped up all the way. She did her best to ignore it as she got to her feet, wondering how long he’d been there.

“Hey.”

“Want to go grab some lunch? I’m starving. Worked up an appetite.”

“Oh, um . . . I actually need to . . . get in a workout today. I always hit the gym on my days off. I work long hours sometimes so it’s the only time I have all week.”

He arched one dark brow. “Don’t you want to eat something first?”

“I’ll grab a protein bar.”

Stepping out onto the bricks, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “What’s up, baby? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Great. I just really need to be sure I stay in shape.” She forced a laugh. “I have to now, to keep up with you, don’t I?”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “I’m pretty sure that won’t ever be a problem. But you go have your workout. I’ll probably do the same. But come here and kiss me first, sugar girl.”

Oh, don’t think, don’t think!

She steeled herself as he leaned in to kiss her, but her body betrayed her, melting into a hot pool of need and desire and jumbled thoughts.

Take a breath. Take some distance.

She laid a hand on his chest, gave him a small push. “Okay, okay.” She laughed. “I should get going.”

“I’ll call you later,” he said, all sunny, dimpled smiles as he bent and kissed her forehead.

“Sure. You go on and get dressed. I need to water the garden before I go.”

She turned and walked over to turn on the hose, taking her time, pretending the nozzle needed adjusting. When she glanced up he was standing in the doorway, looking at her over his shoulder. She flashed him a smile, willing him to just go. He must have believed it because he smiled back and disappeared into the house. She kept her teeth clenched until she heard her front door shut, then she breathed a long sigh—partly relief, partly a strange sort of grief.

Sex never used to be complicated for her. It was fun, often thrilling. But mostly she’d been able to leave afterward, her body sated, without needing anything else from a guy. She hated that she needed so much from him.

“Fuck,” she muttered, turning off the hose and stalking back into the house. But when she reached her bedroom it smelled of sex. It smelled of Jamie. She had to get out of there.

She found her car keys in the living room, grabbed them and her small leather purse and headed out to see her best friend. Dennie would help her get her head on straight. If that were even possible under the circumstances.

Goddamn Jamie. Goddamn her stupid, girlish fantasies and her out-of-control sex drive. It was time she grew up. And there was nothing to make a girl grow up like a broken heart.

CHAPTER

Three

SUMMER PULLED HER Jeep to the curb in front of Dennie’s grandmother’s place in the pretty Lakeview area, close to Lake Pontchartrain. It was a neat, gray clapboard house with brick steps leading to a wide front porch. Dennie and Annalee were forced to evacuate during Hurricane Katrina, and the house had sustained some damage, but they’d managed the restorations in less than a year. They’d been luckier than some in the area and certainly more than many in New Orleans.

She grabbed her purse and slammed the door of the Jeep a little too hard. She needed to take a breath and calm down before she went in—Dennie’s grandma was getting older and she didn’t want to worry her. She inhaled, then exhaled slowly before making her way around to the side of the house, where she gave a light rap on the door and let herself into the kitchen, as she’d always done. She was family there—her best friend’s house had been a longtime refuge. Dennie looked up from the kitchen table, where she sat with her laptop open.

“Hey, Summer. How are—” Her friend stopped and got to her feet. “Are you okay? You’re not, are you?”

She started to shake her head but Dennie was at her side in a moment, taking her into a warm hug.

“I’m okay,” Summer said, maybe more to convince herself than Dennie. She pulled back. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”

“Yes you are,” Dennie said. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be upset once in a while. Come on and sit down while I get you some sweet tea, then you tell me what’s going on.”

Summer nodded and sat on one of the old white-painted wood chairs that had been in Annalee’s house for as long as she could remember. After Hurricane Katrina they’d simply slapped another coat of paint on them and replaced the flowered seat cushions. How many times over the years since they met in kindergarten had she sat at this table, drinking sweet tea with her best friend, telling her all her secrets? Now if she were going to really be able to talk this out with her she’d have to tell her everything.

She sipped the cold tea, savoring the sweetness on her tongue while she waited for Dennie to sit in a chair across from her. “Thanks, Den.”

“It’s just tea, honey.” She swept her long brown-and-gold-streaked hair over her shoulder. “Now tell me what’s got you looking so flushed.”

“God, I don’t even know where to start.” Summer puffed out a breath. “Okay. So this is going to sound weird but do you remember when we went to Europe a few years ago and we went to that club in London?”

“That leather club, or whatever you call it?”

“BDSM club. But yes, that one. You remember how fascinated I was?”

Dennie snorted. “Honeypie, you haven’t stopped being fascinated. I was wondering when you were going to talk to me about it. And don’t look so surprised. I’m your best friend and I’ve known you forever. Plus you have a tendency to leave the screen up on your computer all the time, and you know how nosey I am.”

“Are you mad at me?” Summer asked, a knot forming over the one already pulling her stomach tight.

“For not talking to me about it sooner? Of course not,” Dennie reassured her, reaching out to pat her hand. “I don’t have to know every dirty detail of your sex life. And even if I were mad I certainly wouldn’t choose now to lay it on you, when you’re so obviously upset. So why don’t you tell me the rest of the story?”

She nodded. “Okay. Okay. Well, I’ve been researching this stuff for a while. A few months ago I found out a friend of mine was into it and she’s sort of been mentoring me, taking me to discussion groups and classes. And the other night she took me to the club here in town and . . . I sort of ran into Jamie there. Well, he saw me. And fuck, I’m not supposed to reveal anyone’s identity—I really can’t tell you who the friend is—but I don’t know how else to tell you about him. And you have to know it’s him so this all makes sense to you.”

“Well, well. Jamie, huh? Not that it really surprises me. He’s all bad boy under his smooth manners and calling everyone sweetheart—him and his tough cars. We both know that’s part of your attraction to him. But don’t you worry—I won’t tell a soul. It’s your business, not mine.”

“I know. But I just caught myself and . . . Den, my head is so fucked up right now. And oh Jesus, shit—am I saying this too loud? Is Annalee here?”

“Nope, she’s out at her mah-jongg game, so talk as loud as you want and tell me everything.” Her eyes sparkled, shifting from blue to green.

“I don’t think you want to know everything, Den.”

Dennie leaned forward and clasped her hands on the table. “Oh, but I do. Of course, get the hard stuff out first so we can get you feeling better. Just don’t leave out the salacious details.” She waggled her eyebrows at her.

Summer had to smile. “I sure do love you, Den.”

“I love you, too, hon. Now talk to me.”

Summer gave her the details of her evening at The Bastille, Jamie showing up at her house and how they’d ended up in bed all day.

“Then you got up, made some excuse and ran over here? Was the sex that bad?” Dennie asked, her brows arching.

“What? God, no. The sex was fantastic, and I mean fantastic with a capital F. Everything I ever imagined, but better. God, so much better.” She had to bite back a groan.

“So you’re here now with me instead of back at your place in bed with him, why?”

Burying her face in her hands she muttered, “Because I’m an idiot?”

“You’re no idiot, Summer. You’re just confused. Sex can be that way sometimes. Sex you’ve wanted your whole life? I can only imagine how much weirder that must be.”

“Yeah. Weird in a good way. And in a bad way.” She lifted her head to look at her friend. “And Den, the kinky stuff—although we didn’t do too much of that—just amplifies everything. Makes it so intense. But I just can’t get that one thing out of my head—that he saw me naked in his kink world and maybe he thought it was his job to protect me, or he didn’t like the idea of some other guy touching me that way. I don’t know which, but either way it doesn’t necessarily mean he feels anything more for me than he would his own sister.”

“Honey, if he spends Sunday afternoons in bed with his sister, then there are bigger problems brewing here.”

“That’s not what I meant, Den,” she growled.

“I know, but look, the fact that he came over and took you to bed is a sign there’s more than brotherly interest in you. And frankly, that’s not news to either of us, so don’t go over-thinking your way out of that. He’s wanted you for years, even if he’s always fought it. Maybe he’s simply done being the good guy—the good guy who does the right thing and ends up empty-handed.”

“Because he saw me naked?”

“Because he saw you as the passionate, sensual woman you are—full-blown and unafraid, in a setting he apparently never expected. That might be what it took to shake him loose.”

Summer clenched and unclenched her jaw. “I don’t want him to want me for the wrong reasons. Just to make sure I’m safe or because he’s hot for my body.”

“It’s not a bad place to start—and don’t shoot me that look. You’re hot for his body, too, and there is nothing wrong with a man who wants to take care of you. Give the guy a break. Would you rather have had him see you naked and be totally unaffected? Is it really a bad thing that he found you so irresistible he couldn’t stop himself from coming over and giving you what you’ve always wanted? He’s finally recognized that you’re a woman now instead of everyone’s little sister, and you’re complaining.”

“Oh. Oh! Maybe . . . you’re right. Damn it. You are.”

Dennie nodded and grinned. “I do like to be right.”

“So what do I do now?”

“First of all, stop freaking out. Spend some time with him. Everything doesn’t need to be dealt with and thought through right this minute. You two need to get to know each other on this new level. Try to just let it happen, Summer. This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? To be with Jamie?”

“Maybe that’s what scares me.”

“Probably. But this is your chance, honeypie. You know you’ll kick yourself until you’re ninety if you don’t at least give it a shot. And I plan to go at eighty-five, so you’ll have to spend those last five years picking up the pieces without me.”

“Den!” Summer popped out of her chair and wrapped her arms around her best friend. “Don’t say that. You’re not allowed to die before me.”

“You are so bossy, you know that?”

“But you love me anyway.”

“True. Now, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to go home and get some sleep, and then tomorrow night after work I’m going to find Jamie. But before that I’m going to get some lunch—I’m starving. And oh God, before that I think I need to go home to take a shower.”

“I thought you reeked of sex but I was too polite to say anything.”

Summer laughed. “I was in too much of a hurry to get over here and talk to clean up first. Sorry, Den.”

“It’s okay. One of us should be getting some and it’s not me this week. Or this month.”

“I don’t know why the boys aren’t lining up for you.”

Dennie sat back in her chair and stretched her long legs. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I’ve worked my way through this town. Might have to start looking over in Lafayette or up to Baton Rouge.”

“Silly girl.” Summer grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. I’ll send you my bill.”

Summer grinned and waved on her way out the door.

*   *   *

WORK SEEMED TO go on forever on Monday, but finally Summer was done and on her way home to get pretty for Jamie. He’d called Sunday evening, but she kept the conversation short, telling him she was tired. She felt bad, but the phone felt too distancing to her somehow. She had to see him in person.

She stopped at the local produce market to buy a basket of blackberries as an offering—they were Jamie’s favorite. Once she reached her little house she showered, taking her time, preparing herself for him in a way that felt like a ritual. She’d read about this in one of the books Allie had given her—submissive women paying attention to every detail, focusing on the feel of the soap as they made sure every inch was clean and smooth. Massaging scented lotion into their skin, dabbing perfume behind their ears, between their breasts, transforming themselves into an offering for their Dominant. Was that what she was doing for Jamie?

Tonight they were going to have those negotiations, once she apologized for practically kicking him out of her bed yesterday morning. And after that, maybe they’d have their first real play.

Oh Jesus.

Her heart beat faster and her body heated. Real play with Jamie. Play and sex, the air of command in his voice, his hands on her skin. That exquisite contrast of pain and pleasure that somehow blended and became one sensation. She let out a quiet moan. Lord, what that man did to her.

By the time she slipped her sundress on, even the cotton skimming her flesh was like a sensual touch to her.

As she slid her feet into her high denim wedge sandals, Madame came strolling into the bedroom to inspect her. Or to nap in her closet.

“Just in time, Madame. What do you think?” She did a small pirouette. “If this doesn’t knock Jamie’s socks off, I’ll have to go back to charm school. Don’t wait up for me.”

She got in her Jeep as the sun was setting and drove to his place, but there was no answer at the door. Maybe he was at the gym? If not, she knew where she’d find him. She decided to check his shop first.

Being almost seven-thirty, the place was closed, but sure enough the tow truck was out front and she could see his vintage cherry-red Corvette Stingray parked inside. She found a parking spot and remembered to grab the berries before getting out. As she walked up to the front of SGR Motors she spotted Jamie inside through the big window. He was sitting at the big desk in the office, his head bent. Even the sight of his head made her pulse run hot and thready in her veins. In that insistent, needy place between her thighs. And it suddenly occurred to her that maybe no one had ever had sex on Jamie’s desk before. She smiled and stepped inside.

*   *   *

JAMIE LEANED IN over the keyboard, skimming through the coming week’s schedule, checking to see that all the parts they’d need had been ordered, saw the note to show one of his customers the special rim catalog tomorrow morning. Since his shop’s specialty was restoring vintage muscle cars—like his sweet Corvette—he kept drawers full of stock catalogs, as well as everything available to trick out a hot ride. If a customer wanted anything from custom chrome pipes to fuzzy dice, he knew where to find it. He turned and opened one of the file drawers next to the enormous wood desk, searching for the Wheel Vintiques catalog.