Текст книги "Crashed"

Автор книги: Sherilee Gray

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter Four

Oh my God, I’m a complete and utter slut. So much for making him work for it. She would have dropped her panties right there in his living room after the orgasm he’d given her. Her face heated. How would she survive this?

She was supposed to resist, be strong—instead she’d wrapped her legs around his hips and rubbed up against him like a dog in heat until she got off.

Martin was waiting for them by the Mercedes when they came down from the apartment. He stepped forward as they approached and opened the door for her, which made her feel uncomfortable. Since when did a mechanic’s son, who’d spent half his life in coveralls with grease on his hands, need someone to open his damn door?

She looked at Deacon, who still had hold of her hand even though she’d tried to wrench her fingers free from his grasp several times. “Why the hell do you need a chauffeur?” She heard Martin chuckle under his breath as she climbed in. “Shit, sorry, Martin.”

Martin winked and went around to take the driver’s seat.

Deacon slipped an arm around her waist and slid her closer to him in the backseat. “Martin’s driving us tonight so I can focus all my attention on you.” His hand took hers and then rested them on his solid, warm thigh. The muscle beneath jumped and things down below started to fire up all over again. She tried to slide her hand out from under his.

“Give it up, Alex. I’m not letting you go.”

Great. She needed some distance, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. And sitting here, plastered together, while his fingers lightly stroked her waist was starting to get her all hot and bothered. “So who are these old farts we’re meeting tonight?” It was the unsexiest thing she could think of in that moment.

He smiled, all masculine gorgeousness. And dammit, that set off some more happy tingles down south. The guy had a killer smile, always had, and he knew how to use it. “What makes you think Jarrod’s an old fart?”

“Aren’t all you business types a pack of premature-aging stuffed suits?” She congratulated herself when his eyes narrowed at her.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against her ear. Did he know how much she loved when he kissed her there, how much it affected her? “You’ll pay for that when we get back to my place. I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.”

She swallowed hard and turned to look out the window. All the witty comebacks she’d had swirling in her head went poof, vanished into thin air with those huskily spoken words. She squeezed her thighs together, the tingles upping their assault, and squirmed in her seat.

Deacon’s soft laugh drifted over her, like he could read her mind, like he knew exactly how much she wanted him despite her attempts to convince him otherwise. Arrogant prick. She swiveled around and socked him in the arm.

“Hey.” He held up both hands. “What was that for?” He rubbed at his shoulder, and his bottom lip popped out. And all she could think was that she wanted to lean in and suck on it, lick it. Dammit. If mind bleach was a thing, she’d totally wash him from her memories. Erase the day she’d ever laid eyes on Deacon West.

“Just stop acting like an ass. And FYI, you can’t pull off cute, so stick your lip back in.”

He reached down and squeezed her ass. “Fine, I’ll stick with what I do best.”

Hand finally free, she quickly crossed her arms so he couldn’t get hold of it again. He shrugged and rested his big, warm hand high on her thigh instead. That was so much worse. She made a note for future reference.

When they got to the restaurant, Deacon took hold of her hand again as soon as she stepped out of the car. This time she didn’t try to pull free—there was no use, and besides, the jerk would probably grab her ass as an alternative.

But that wasn’t the only reason, and though she’d never admit it to him, she was nervous about meeting these bigwig business types. What could she possibly have to talk about with people like that? The only thing she knew about were cars, and she doubted the suits Deke hung with had the first clue what was under the hood of their expensive sports cars, let alone could dream of getting grease under their manicured fingernails.

The woman at the door led them to the back of the room. The only person there was a guy about Deke’s age.

“Jarrod,” Deacon said and walked straight over to him. She should have guessed. He was all suited up the same. They looked like a couple of Ken dolls in their dark suits and slicked-back hair. “Good to see you.”

Jarrod took his hand in a firm shake. “Glad you could make it.”

Deacon slid his arm around her waist. “This is Alex.”

Jarrod took her hand, lifting it to his mouth. “Lovely to meet you, Alex.” He gave her a crooked grin, one she suspected got a lot of women to drop their panties, and pressed his lips to her skin. Yeah, he was a good-looking guy, but she suspected he knew it, too.

“You, too.” She pulled her hand free, and his grin upped in wattage.

They took their seats, and the guys started talking. Which was pretty much how it continued for the next hour. All in all, the evening was going better than she’d thought it would. They mainly ignored her while they talked business. And since she had no clue what they were going on about, or why Deacon had bothered to bring her in the first place, she spent the time people watching and enjoying the free food and alcohol.

“So, what do you do, Alex?”

It took her a moment to realize Jarrod was talking to her. It seemed the business portion of dinner was over. This should be good. She plastered a smile on her face. “I’m a mechanic. Me and Deke’s sisters own a garage on Axle Alley.”

Deacon shifted beside her but said nothing, while Jarrod stared at her like he was waiting for the punch line. When she kept her trap shut and he realized there wasn’t one coming, he shook off his stupor and served up his panty-dropping smile again. “Wow. That’s an unusual occupation for a woman.”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

“What kind of work do you do?”

“Beside the run-of-the-mill, bread-and-butter stuff, we want to eventually specialize in classic car restoration. We’ve done a few already, and we’ve got several more big jobs lined up.”

Deacon turned to her. “Do you?”

“Yeah.”

Before he could ask any more questions, Jarrod cut in. “I actually have a car that needs work. Maybe I should bring it in, see what you can do?”

The conversation turned to cars, which she’d happily talk about all night, and by the time she’d finished telling Deacon’s business associate what they could do for him, another hour had passed. Deacon had barely said a word in all that time.

Was he pissed at her for hijacking his dinner?

When Jarrod asked her another question, Deke dropped a hand on her shoulder and cut in. “It’s getting late. I think we’ll call it a night.”

“Right. I hadn’t realized the time.” Jarrod turned back to her. “We should do this again sometime. You’re so passionate about what you do. I could listen to you talk about it all night.” He didn’t even glance at Deke when he said it. Oops.

“Um, yeah. Sure.”

Deacon grabbed her hand and stood abruptly. “Okay. See you next Wednesday, Jarrod.” Then he strode through the restaurant, towing her behind him. Keeping up in four-inch heels was no easy task, not when she was used to wearing steel-toed boots.

She tugged on his hand. “Slow the hell down, or I’ll fall on my ass.”

He did as she asked but didn’t look back at her. When they hit the street, he called Martin, asked him to pick them up, then stared silently ahead, jaw like granite.

After a few minutes the silence became unbearable. “What the hell’s your problem?” she said to his steely profile, though she thought she had a good idea.

He scowled down at her. “Are you serious?”

She gave him her best what-the-hell-crawled-up-your-ass expression and crossed her arms, needing space. “Yeah, I’m serious.”

He didn’t take the hint and stepped closer. “You really don’t know what my problem is?” His voice had gone all deep and growly.

And of course, as always when he got like this, her happy places got a whole lot happier. Which was insane and just plain wrong. She ignored her aching nipples and the pulse between her thighs and fired back, “No. But you’re acting like a dick.”

“I may as well not have been in the room, that’s what my problem is. You were all over fucking Jarrod Prescott like cheap perfume.”

She lurched back. “Me? All over Jarrod?”

His nostrils flared when she said the other man’s name. “Like plastic wrap,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Jesus, you’re acting like I jumped in his lap and took a ride on the guy’s disco stick. We were talking business, Deacon. Just like you did before me. That job could be worth a lot of money, and anyway, you had no problem ignoring me while you two talked about whatever the hell you were droning on about.”

He thrust a hand in his hair—the slicked-back look was gone, and his hair fell over his forehead, the way she liked it. “We have a deal, Alex. You don’t sleep with anyone but me. If you want to renege, fine, I’ll call the valuers tomorrow and reschedule.”

She winced inwardly. “You wouldn’t.”

He wrapped his fingers around her biceps. “Try me.”

A red haze clouded her vision. Was he for real? “When did you become such a raging asshole? No, really, I want to know. Do you think I’m some mindless skank who’ll fuck anything with an available dick? That I’m so desperate, a guy only has to talk to me, show me a tiny bit of attention, and I’ll jump into bed with him?”

“Alex.”

She ignored the warning in his voice and shoved at his chest. The bastard wouldn’t let her go. She shoved again, struggled to get away. He grabbed her wrists, trapping them between their bodies, pulling her in even closer.

“Stop.” His voice was like a whip cracking through the night, and she immediately stopped fighting. His gaze bored into her, intense, but there was a softness there as well. She wanted to keep on struggling, to get away from that look in his eyes, but he was having none of it. “That’s not what I meant.” He let out a harsh breath. “I let my temper get the better of me. I apologize.”

He could be unreasonable and irrational at times, she knew that all too well, but this was extreme even for him. She wanted to say more. Instead she bit her lip before she said something to make it worse, which was not easy. She refused to give him a reason to sell the garage out from under them.

“Whatever.” She tested his hold, and he let her wrists go but kept her plastered to his side.

“I’m sorry, Alex. I overreacted. I know I can be…possessive.” He stared down at her and just like that, the softness vanished, green eyes going intense, hard. “I need to know we understand each other?”

He was back to Mr. Chill. Good. The way she preferred him. He was so much easier to dislike when he was like this. “Yeah, we understand each other just fine.”

Martin chose that moment to pull up beside them, thank God, cutting off further conversation. They climbed in, and Deacon stayed quiet—silently stewing, no doubt—the entire drive. When they arrived at his building, she expected him to have Martin drive her home.

But when he climbed out, he pulled her out after him.

Was he serious? “But I thought you’d…” He shook his head in a silent warning. “You want me to come up?” Her voice quavered at the end, and she hated it.

He leaned in and pinned her to the side of the car with a dark, hungry look. “We still have a deal, yes?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then let’s go.”

Alex followed him into his building. He didn’t wait and strode toward the elevator. Her mouth went dry, heart lodging in her throat, and the relentless pulse between her thighs turned into a bass drumbeat, so strong she ached.

Holy shit.

…

Deacon didn’t look back. He knew Alex was following.

And right now, he couldn’t look at her. He was too damned pissed off. If he looked at her now, he’d say something else he knew he’d regret later. That list seemed to be growing by the hour around her. She pushed every one of his buttons and enjoyed the hell out of every damn minute of it. She was right, of course. He was acting like a total dick, but he couldn’t rein it in, not yet, not when he’d been forced to sit there while another man all but fucked her with his eyes.

The only thing he could think about was wiping Jarrod from her mind. Making her come so hard, the only man she could think about was him.

The elevator slid open, and he stepped inside and pushed the button to hold the door while Alex caught up. Her dark eyes avoided his when she walked in, and she stood an arm’s length away. The doors slid shut, and he reached out and slid his hand under her hair, around the back of her neck, and pulled her in close. Her soft curves crushed against his side, and he almost groaned aloud when he felt her hard little nipples against his abs.

She planted her hands on his chest and tried to pull away, but he refused to let her go. He threaded his fingers deeper into her hair and massaged the back of her neck. Her breathing grew choppy, and her pulse fluttered madly under her golden skin. He thought he already knew the answer, fucking hoped he did, but still he asked, “Do you want me, Alex?”

She wouldn’t look at him, didn’t answer. She had no idea how badly he wanted to hear her say the words, how long he’d waited to hear them from her again.

He leaned in, flicked her ear with his tongue, and bit down on the delicate lobe gently. “Does the idea of my mouth on you make you wet?”

Nothing.

Oh, nothing came out of her mouth, but her body said all there was to know. Her nipples were stiff against the fabric of her dress, and he could see the way she squeezed her thighs together, the way she bit her lip. Still, her silence made him a little desperate. No, it terrified him. Made him doubt himself. Had this whole thing been a huge mistake? Had he ruined everything?

So much for taking this slow, coaxing her gently. But dammit, it was impossible when she was within touching distance. She made him insane with wanting her so bad. She made him insane, period.

He needed to hear her say it, to admit she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Even though she’d kissed him before they’d gone out, he wouldn’t take this any farther until she admitted it, until he heard her say it out loud. But he also knew if he backed down, let her go now, he’d lose her forever. He had no choice but to push harder. He tightened his hold, fisted her dark hair, and tilted her face up so he could see her eyes. Alex had loved it when he’d taken control in bed, had fucking melted in his arms. She’d also loved the filthy things he’d said to her. Both things that turned him on just as much. He wasn’t above playing dirty.

He held her gaze, refusing to let her hide from him, and rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Does that tight little body ache to feel me moving inside you again, Alex?” She made a strangled sound in the back of her throat and bit her lip harder, but still didn’t answer. He played his last card—his only option was to lay it out for her. “If the answer’s no, then the deal’s off. This is supposed to be mutually beneficial. I don’t see the point in this if the idea of fucking me disgusts you.”

Her mouth opened, just a little, and the tip of her tongue swiped across the top of his thumb as she wet her lips. His dick jerked. Jesus, he wanted to feel that mouth on him. He reached out and slammed his hand on the emergency button. The elevator jarred to a halt, and she jumped, eyes going wide. “What are you doing?”

“Answer me, Alex. I need to know.”

Her gaze darted away, then back, locked onto his. “Yes.”

It was there in her dark eyes. So much fucking heat he started burning up. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want you,” she rasped.

His knees went weak with relief. Fisting the fabric of her dress, he lifted it to just below her ass. “So if I slide my fingers inside your panties right now, you’ll be wet for me?” He brushed his fingers across the outside of the delicate fabric covering her and groaned. God, she was drenched, so hot.

The tips of her ears turned bright red. “Y-yes.”

He tugged her panties aside and slid a finger through her cleft, grazing her clit, and she gasped. A groan broke past his lips. “Fuck, Alex.”

He reached out and punched the button to get the elevator in motion again, fighting the urge to fuck her right then and there. But every step had to be played carefully, and that meant showing her this wasn’t all about his need for her, that she was important to him, and that she was more than just a hole to shove his dick in.

The doors slid open, and he removed his hand from between her legs. Wrapping his fingers around hers, he led her to his apartment and unlocked the door. He steered her inside and straight to his bedroom. She looked around, her gaze landing on his bed.

“Take off your clothes.”

Alex wasn’t talking, but her breathing was rapid and her fingers shook as she worked the zipper down the side of the dress. She slipped off her shoes, then let the fabric pool at her feet. Which left her in only a purple lace thong. If he hadn’t already known, it wouldn’t be hard to guess her favorite color.

Her nipples were peaked and begging for his mouth. The small pieces of metal piercing her skin blinked under the lights, and the tiny stone in her belly button, purple as well, dangled enticingly. He shrugged out of his jacket and removed his shirt, tossing them over a chair. “Do you realize how beautiful you are?”

She looked down, hair falling forward to cover her face.

“Don’t hide from me, Alex. While we’re together, I don’t want you to ever hide from me.” He dropped to his knees in front of her and ran his hands up and down her sides, resting them on her hips. Nuzzling her warm skin, he circled her navel with the tip of his tongue, then dipped into her belly button.

Gripping the sides of her thong, he dragged the delicate lace down her thighs and sucked in a breath when he finally got a look at her. She was smooth, waxed, just like he remembered. “Step out,” he rasped.

Throwing the scrap of lace aside, he ran his hands from her calves up to the curve of her thighs. “Open your legs, let me look at you. Fuck, let me taste you.” She widened her stance, her hands fisted at her sides. So damn stubborn. He spread her silky folds and ran his tongue through her slit. So good. He’d ached for this for what felt like forever.

A moan broke past her lips, and she threw out a hand for support. Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him to her. As good as this was, he wanted more. He gave her clit one last suck. “Get on the bed.”

She stumbled back until her legs hit the mattress, and she sat down. He walked on his knees and tugged her ass to the edge of the bed. Reaching back, he tagged a cushion off the chair and handed it to her. “Put this under your head. I want you to watch what I’m doing.”

Her eyes were unfocused, dark with need as she did as he asked. She wanted him. Relief thrummed though his veins.

Alex acted tough, like nothing could touch her, but it was all a front to protect herself—anything not to appear vulnerable. Which was why she loved when he took charge like this. She was afraid to ask for what she wanted, afraid it would expose too much. This way she didn’t have to think, she could just feel.

He slipped his hands under her ass and leaned in, licking and sucking, kissing her, holding her to his mouth. Stiffening his tongue, he pushed inside, fucking her that way until she writhed beneath him, moaning his name. Her fingers tugged hard at his hair, one minute trying to pull him away, the next she would shove his face against her and grind her hips, seeking release. His little viper was still fighting it, even though he knew this was what she wanted.

He pressed his dick into the mattress in an attempt to ease the ache and couldn’t stop himself from thrusting into it. He pulled back before he ended up humping the thing.

“Look at me, Alex.” Her eyes fluttered open, lips parted and red from biting them. “Play with your tits for me, baby.”

She didn’t hesitate and squeezed her perfect breasts, pinching the dark peaks. When she tugged at the barbell there and gasped, he almost came in his pants.

Replacing his tongue with his fingers, he thrust in and out of her, so tight and slick, then sucked hard on her clit. Her thighs trembled and her moans got louder. Then she bucked and cried out, coming hard against his mouth. He removed his fingers, then sucked and licked at her until he’d wrung every last tremor from her body. When she collapsed back, panting, he dropped his head against her thigh and tried to get his shit together.

Jesus. She was going to kill him.