Текст книги "Crashed"

Автор книги: Sherilee Gray

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter Five

Boneless, Alex lay in a heap on Deacon’s bed. The mattress dipped, and he settled beside her, his hand coming to rest on her belly, then trailing up to her breast. He squeezed gently. “All right?”

Eyes trained on the ceiling, as if his crown molding was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen, she avoided his gaze. Her resistance was failing big-time. Deke had made her come hard enough to pass the hell out, and she already wanted him again, wanted him inside her.

“Alex?”

“Yeah. I’m good.” Wet heat surrounded her nipple, followed by some teasing suction. She moaned, her hand threading through his now scruffy hair, like it had a mind of its own. He continued to tongue her piercing carefully, knowing how tender she must be.

“I need to know you enjoy what I’m doing to you.”

She expected him to strip and finish what he’d started, but he didn’t seem in any hurry as he trailed his fingers down her body, cupping her between the legs. She automatically spread her thighs wider, giving him better access when he grazed lightly over her sensitive clit, then dipped inside.

He made a rough sound at the back of his throat and pressed in deeper.

“Deacon…ahh.” Back arching, she bucked against his hand.

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?” Her voice was thin, needy.

“Making you come.”

He added another finger, thrusting in and out of her. She was wet, embarrassingly so. But when his thumb joined the party, pressing against her clit, she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Again? Jesus.” She groaned as her hips moved of their own volition, riding his hand.

Deacon loomed over her, watching her with hungry eyes. “Yes, again.”

He curled his fingers so they brushed that magic spot inside every time he pumped them deep, then dragged them back out. “Ahh.” She lost all control over her vocal cords as the exquisite sensations built steadily, moaning and gasping, and shit…begging for it.

“That’s it, come for me. Come all over my fingers. Let me feel you squeeze them tight, sweetheart.”

The endearment pierced her chest and pushed her over the edge far too quickly. Deacon watched her the whole time, never taking his eyes off her. He looked wild, panting, his sweat-slicked chest pumping hard with every ragged breath. His obvious desire for her made her come harder, longer.

When she collapsed back, he dropped down beside her and rolled her into his side, tucking her in close. “I could watch you come all night,” he whispered.

Memories swamped her of their night together six months ago. She hadn’t told him she loved him, but it had been there in every touch. She hadn’t had sex with him—no, after he’d made her scream his name, she’d pushed him back on the bed and made love to him. Humiliation heated her skin. Had he seen it? Was he using her feelings for him to get what he wanted? That thought hurt more than anything else.

“Talk to me,” he said, raising up on an elbow and brushing her hair back so he could see her face. She noted absently that whiskers had already sprung up, darkening his strong jaw. It suited him. A lot.

“If we’re going to fuck, you need to get on with it. I have to get back before Rusty and Piper wonder where I am.” She was trying to draw Mr. Chill back out; instead he smiled down and brushed his lips against hers.

“We’re not fucking, Alex, not tonight.”

What? She could feel his giant boner against her hip, so she knew he wanted her. It’s not like he could hide it. What was he playing at? Had she done something wrong? Then she got pissed at herself for giving a crap. She rubbed at the sting in her chest.

“Right.” She tried to pull away, to get out of his bed, to get the hell out of there, but he held her tight against him. “I need to leave, Deacon.”

“Not yet. I want to hold you for a while.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“It is now.”

She squirmed, trying to get some distance between them, but he threw a heavy thigh over hers, tangling their legs together, trapping her. It was hopeless. “You can’t just change the goddamn rules.”

He nuzzled her throat and ran his hands down her body and over her hip to squeeze her ass. “They’re my rules. I can do whatever I like. Now shut up and let me cuddle you.”

“I don’t cuddle.”

“You’ll get used to it. I like to hold a woman after I make her come. Not that you’d know, since the last time I had you in my bed, you ran away.”

She didn’t want to think about that night anymore, and she didn’t like the fact that he’d brought it up and thrown it in her face, either. Then a vision of Deacon snuggling with the Barbie from his office flashed through her mind. He’d said he hadn’t slept with her. Was he telling the truth? Could she believe him? Had he had that woman here, in this bed?

Shit. She had to get out of here. She increased her struggle to get free, but he just held tighter.

“You’re not going to win, so stop fighting me. And for God’s sake, relax. Cuddling is no fun if the person you’re holding feels like rigor mortis has set in.”

He massaged her shoulders and nibbled behind her ear. The bastard knew she liked it when he did that, had been using it against her all night. What was he playing at? His dick was still hard as iron and pressed against her ass through his trousers, but apparently they weren’t going to have sex, and now he wanted to cuddle? “What are you doing, Deacon?”

“I already told you. Now shh.”

Legs still tangled with hers, he tightened his heavy arms around her, pulling her in closer. His belt buckle was hard and cool against her waist, a stark contrast to the heat of his bare chest. If this was going to be part of the deal, she had to think of a way to get out of it before it was too late. Her heart didn’t care about deals and casual sex, and she couldn’t afford to go there, especially not with him.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to control the flip-flopping in her belly. Who was she kidding? Her heart couldn’t be any more involved if she ripped it from her chest and handed it to him decorated with a big red bow. He owned it, had for the last nine years.

The only way to get out of this was to buy the building from him, and they didn’t have that kind of money.

She needed him to go back to cold and distant. At least then she could stay pissed and ignore how much she wanted him, how painful she knew it would be when all of this ended. Jesus, she was so far in over her head it wasn’t funny.

It seemed to take forever, but his breathing finally evened out, his big body leaning heavier on hers. She waited another twenty minutes to make sure he was asleep, then started to edge out from under him.

Her phone beeped on the other side of the bedroom, where she’d dumped her purse earlier, and Deke stirred beside her. Crap. The girls would be wondering how her date was going. She’d told them that much, so at least she could explain the late night.

If they had any idea she was screwing around with their brother or knew about this insane deal, both women would be pissed as hell. Deacon and his sisters loved one another to bits. The last thing she wanted was to cause a rift in their relationship. Deacon and his father had parted ways when he’d decided on business school instead of the business of cars. Jacob West had wanted his son to take over one day. And he’d let his son know time and again how much the betrayal had hurt him. Eventually, Deacon gave up trying to make him understand that he wanted something different out of life. They’d never had the chance to make up before he’d died. Since then, the only family he had was his sisters.

Alex understood the pain of not getting to say good-bye firsthand. Her heart squeezed. She knew Deacon struggled with it.

Stop. She pushed the tender feelings down deep, where they belonged.

Suddenly his weight became suffocating. She needed to leave. Now. Edging out from under him, she climbed to her feet and stood motionless by the bed for a few seconds, making sure she hadn’t woken him. When he didn’t move, breathing still slow and even, she grabbed her dress and bag and, on silent feet, hurried to the living room. She quickly pulled on her clothes, then realized she’d forgotten her shoes. No way was she going back into that room and risking waking him. She got the feeling he wouldn’t appreciate her skipping out on him again.

But this time was different, right? She’d told him she couldn’t stay. So how could he get mad?

As soon as she hit the elevator, guilt swamped her, but she squashed that, too. Digging around in her purse, she found her phone and called a cab on the way down to the foyer. The doorman didn’t comment on her disheveled appearance when she walked out, or the fact that she had bare feet as she moved toward him. She smiled weakly and thanked him when he opened the door for her.

“Would you like me to call a cab, miss?”

“One’s on the way. Thanks, though.”

He motioned behind them to one of the overstuffed couches. “Why don’t you wait in here? I’ll tell you when it arrives.”

The idea of standing on the street, looking like she did right then, was not an appealing prospect. “Um…sure. Thanks.”

She was texting Rusty back when she heard the doorman greet someone. She glanced up. A couple walked in, both slick in their designer clothes. Their eyes landed on her, with her bare feet, mussed hair, and more than likely smudged makeup, and she inwardly cringed. The guy smirked, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a knowing way that made her skin crawl. The woman’s eyes zeroed in on her ink, and a look of disgust covered her heavily made-up face.

As they passed, she heard her say, “Are they letting prostitutes in here now?” She didn’t hear the guy’s reply as they carried on to the elevator.

Assholes. God, she hated this, had never felt so small in her whole life. She didn’t belong here among the rich and up-themselves, never would.

“Your cab’s here, miss.”

“Thanks.” The door guy gave her a kind smile, more than likely feeling sorry for her.

She ran out, and the cab driver turned to face her when she climbed in and slammed the door. “Where to?”

“Axle Alley. Do you know West’s garage?”

“Sure do.”

As they drove away, she released a shaky breath. The closer they got to home, the more her panic began to subside. She had just slumped into the seat and closed her eyes when her phone started ringing. Rusty. That woman was relentless. But when she checked, it was Deacon’s name flashing on the screen, and the tension returned full force. She let it ring until it stopped. Coward.

She slumped back, but her phone started up again moments later.

He wouldn’t stop until she picked up; she knew him well enough to know that. Plastering a fake smile on her face, so he’d hear it in her voice, she answered. “Yo.”

Silence.

“Um…hello?”

“You left,” he growled down the line. “I woke up and you were gone.”

“I told you I had to go.” She was still angry and humiliated from her encounter in the foyer, and her fake happy drained right out of her.

“Where are you?”

“In a cab on my way home.”

A rough exhale. “Jesus, Alex. Don’t do that again. I was worried. I don’t like you wandering around on your own late at night. If you need to leave, tell me and I’ll drive you.”

His words simultaneously pissed her off and gave her a warm fuzzy feeling in her belly. Not a lot of people had worried about her in her life. Still, she decided to ignore the warm fuzzies and go with pissed off. “For fuck’s sake. You’re not only acting like a sexist pig, you’re being completely unreasonable. And what will your sisters think if they see you dropping me off in the middle of the night, huh? Think about it.”

“I don’t care what—” He cut himself off abruptly, and she heard him take several deep breaths. “Please. Just…next time you decide you have to leave, wake me first. I’ll wait downstairs with you, yes?”

“I’m twenty-five years old. I’ve been looking after myself most of my life.”

Silence, then. “Well, now you have me to do that.” His voice was so low, almost gentle, and it sent a shiver across her skin, dread spiking through her belly. “Promise me, Alex.”

She didn’t understand what was going on here, why he was being like this, but she didn’t have much choice but to agree. “Fine.”

“Thank you, baby. Now go get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll call you tomorrow to make plans.”

She hugged herself. The way he said “baby,” all soft and deep, did funny things to her, things she didn’t want to think about right then, or ever. “Where are we going? How should I dress?”

“I’m thinking maybe we should stay in.” More with the gentle voice, but now with a hint of amusement that was sexy as hell and had her happy places tingling. “If I get my way, clothes will be optional.” Then he hung up.

Shit.

Chapter Six

“They’re here, Alex.”

“Don’t make me go, please. I promise I’ll be good. You won’t even know I’m here,” she said, backing up several steps.

Mr. West’s usually warm brown eyes looked sad when he shook his head. “They won’t let you stay. I’m sorry, honey. I’ve tried, but they don’t think it’s best for you to live here with us.”

She sobbed uncontrollably now. Rusty and Piper clung to her, crying as well, their grip almost painful.

“Please don’t make me. I don’t like it there. I don’t want to—”

The door opened and a woman with blond hair and small blue eyes walked in. “That’s enough now, Alex. You know you have to go back.”

“Maybe she could just stay tonight,” Mr. West said.

The woman shook her head. “No. That’ll just make it harder in the long run.” She held out her hand. “Come on now, Alex. It’s time to go.”

She shook her head again and spun around, panic and all kinds of other feelings swirling in her belly, making her feel sick. Without thinking, she ran, ran from the woman trying to take her away, straight through the living room. She saw the window but didn’t stop, had to get away. She wasn’t going back.

Alex shot up in bed, her screams dying in her throat when she realized it was just a dream. The only dream she ever had. She ran shaky hands across her face and pushed her sweat-soaked hair off her face.

Goddammit.

Sitting up, she pulled her knees to her chest. She hadn’t had the dream in months, had hoped it had stopped altogether. She’d suffered night terrors after her parents died in a house fire. Another reason she hadn’t lasted long with any of the foster families she got placed with. No one liked to be woken in the middle of the night by a kid screaming hysterically.

Grabbing her phone, she checked the time. Crap. She’d slept in. Shoving back the covers, she scrambled out of bed and stripped on her way to the bathroom. The warm water pouring over her in the shower helped to ease her stiff muscles. After she dried off, she threw on a pair of shorts and a tank, pulled on socks, and stuffed her feet in her boots. Then she grabbed an apple off the counter and clomped down the stairs to the garage.

Her phone beeped in her pocked on her way down, and she hated the flutter of anticipation when she checked to see who the text was from. Rusty.

Wake the hell up.

She shoved the phone back in her pocket and tried not to think about the amount of times she’d checked the blasted thing yesterday.

Deacon hadn’t called the day after her midnight dash, like he said he would. Nor did they have their clothing-optional night in. But she had received a few quick text messages to say he was busy. She wasn’t buying it, though. More like he was pissed off that she’d pulled another runner.

What if he’d decided she was too much trouble? She hadn’t exactly made this easy on him. What if he’d decided to end it and found someone else to be his date? Someone like Candice, for example. She’d bet every cent she had, which wasn’t a hell of a lot, that Candice wouldn’t turn him down. She’d plant her ass in Deke’s bed, in that flashy apartment, and wouldn’t leave until she was prized out with a crowbar.

She shut those thoughts down quickly. That wasn’t the issue here.

If he reneged, would he go ahead and put the garage up for sale right away?

When she walked into the workshop, Piper was in her office and Rusty, already in coveralls, had her head under the hood of Mr. Cannon’s 1968 Dodge Charger.

She looked up, and a grin spread across her face. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“I know.” Alex held up her hands. “I slept in.”

“Yeah?” Concern creased her friend’s brow. “Trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that.”

Rusty put down her socket wrench and straightened, rubbing the grease from her hands on the ass of her coveralls. “The dream?”

Alex shrugged, not wanting to get into it, not wanting to worry her friends, and definitely not wanting to dwell on the reason she thought she’d started having them again.

Rusty walked over and gave her a quick hug. “You think this is about your date the other night? You like this guy?”

The woman was too damn perceptive for her own good. She’d always been able to read her like a book. “Nah, it’s nothing serious. You know me.”

Rusty stared at her for several seconds, her intense gaze so much like her brother’s in that moment it made her squirm. “Okay. If you say so. But you know I’m here if you need to vent, right?”

“Just try to stop me.”

Rusty’s stunning grin returned, then her eyes lifted to something over Alex’s shoulder. They widened. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Alex spun around in time to see a 1970 Dodge Super Bee 426 Hemi Flashback pull up in front of their garage.

Purple.

Her knees actually went weak. This was the car. The car of her dreams. Instead of actors or singers on her walls when she’d been growing up, she’d had a poster of this car—well, not on her walls, because she wasn’t allowed, but the picture had gone to every one of her foster homes with her.

Super Bees were only in production for four years, so there weren’t that many on the road. She’d never thought she’d get to see one up close. Whoever owned it had to have some serious cake.

The door opened and Jarrod Prescott stepped out, all flashy suit and smooth good looks. His gaze landed on her, and his lips quirked up at the side, followed by a knowing wink. She slammed her unhinged jaw shut.

“You know that guy? Sheee-it. Is that the guy you’re messing with?” Rusty hissed in her ear.

“Um…”

“Hot…the guy’s not bad, either.” She snorted. “No wonder you’re going out with him—he drives your freakin’ dream car.”

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

“Just, ah…give me a minute.” She speed walked over to Jarrod before Rusty had a chance to interrogate him. But Rusty had already peeled off, heading to the office to get Piper. Dammit.

Jarrod slid his hands in his pockets and smiled down at her. “Alex.”

“Yeah, hey. Look, I ah…I need your help. You’re gonna think this is nuts, but I’m going to need you to pretend we’re going out.”

His brow scrunched. “Pardon?”

“I know this seems weird, and I know I’m asking a lot. But Deacon’s sisters are my best friends, and they don’t know me and him are…that we’re seeing each other. But they know I’m seeing someone. Rusty got the wrong idea when you pulled in, so if you could just help me out, I’ll owe you,” she blurted in one breath.

The excuse-me-while-I-call-in-the-special-doctor expression had disappeared and been replaced by amusement. “Pretend? That we’re dating?”

Jesus. Humiliation heated her from head to toe. “Um, yeah.”

One of his hands came up and slid around the back of her neck, and he tugged her closer. “I find method acting makes for a more realistic performance.”

The office door flew open, Rusty and Piper emerging, sights set. “They’re coming.”

He let go of her neck and slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. She had no choice but to plaster a ridiculous grin on her face.

“Nice car,” Rusty said when she stopped in front of them and extended her hand. “Rusty West. This is my sister, Piper.” Piper took his hand as well and smiled in that sweet, open way of hers.

“Jarrod Prescott. Nice to finally meet you both. Alex’s told me so much about you.” He smiled down at her, then glanced back at her friends.

Alex tilted her head toward the garage. “You two have stuff to do, right? Don’t let us pull you from your work.”

Piper narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure we can spare a few minutes.”

Crap.

“Do you have plans with our girl?” Rusty asked.

“Actually, I came to talk to Alex about doing some restoration work for me. I have a couple cars that need rebuilding, and she told me you could fit me in.”

The wary looks vanished, along with their desire to interrogate Jarrod. Alex was pretty sure she could see the dollar signs flash above their heads.

Piper grinned, giving her best Vanna White impersonation, and motioned back to the workshop. “Please, step into my office.”

Good God.

They all traipsed into the workshop, Jarrod keeping her plastered to his side the entire time. And if he’d had his way, she would have spent the entire meeting in his lap.

By the time they finished discussing Jarrod’s cars and what he wanted done, it was close to lunchtime. As they stepped out of the small office, he took Alex’s hand and tugged her close, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He was enjoying this whole role-play thing a bit too damn much.

Rusty and Piper stayed in the office, but she could see them pretending not to look when he led her over to the Super Bee.

“Thanks for doing this, Jarrod. You helped me out of a tricky spot. And for bringing the work our way. You won’t be disappointed.”

“I wouldn’t have brought them here if I thought otherwise.” He brushed his thumb across her jaw. “And I’ll play your lover anytime, though the real thing would be far more enjoyable, I can assure you. If your situation with Deacon changes, give me a call.” He slipped a card from his breast pocket and slid it into her hand.

Then, before she knew what was happening, he slid his other arm around her waist and pulled her into him. She turned her head as his lips descended, and they thankfully missed their target, hitting her jaw. She jerked back. “Right, well, thanks.”

“I hope you do call, Alex. I think we could have some fun together.” Then he climbed into her dream car and drove off.

She shoved the card in her pocket and blew out a shaky breath as his car disappeared into traffic. “Holy crap.”

As she turned to head back inside, she spotted the silver Mercedes sitting on the other side of the parking lot. The door opened and Deacon stepped out, face hard, jaw clenched.

He was in Mr. Chill mode, and those cold eyes never left her as he strode in her direction.

Shit. She’d just ruined everything.