Swerve: Boosted Hearts (Volume 1) (19 page)

“I love this tattoo.”

Finally, trailing her hands down his sides, she dropped to her knees in front of him, between those spread, muscled thighs, and looked up. He stood with his wide back to the spray, blocking it with his body. Rivulets cascaded down his sides and long legs. He looked magnificent.

But it was the dark hunger in his gaze that had her squeezing her thighs together. That she could do that to this man made her hotter than she’d ever been in her life.

His hand dropped to the side of her face, cupping her so tenderly her heart squeezed. He was huge and powerful, all muscled strength. Strong enough he could lift her, carry her, move her body any way he wanted. He had full command over his body, could take her hard, seemingly without restraint. He could also be extremely gentle, treating her as if she was a delicate piece of china, as if she could break if he wasn’t careful.

But she knew he’d never fully let loose with her. He always made sure to hold a little back. She didn’t want that; she wanted to watch him let go, to release all that desire she saw burning in his eyes now.

He slid his thumb over her jaw, across her bottom lip, tracking the movement with his predator’s stare. She reached up and held his hand there, taking his thumb into her mouth and sucking, nipping. That gaze got darker still, his cock, only a few inches in front of her face, jumped. He was so hard now it stood straight up, resting against his tight abs.

He bared his teeth like a hungry lion and hissed out a breath. “Shay…”

She nipped the tip of his thumb then let him drag it free. “Hmm?”

She ran her hands up his thighs, one hand moving to his tight ass, the other skimming close to his achingly hard cock, but not close enough. It pulsed and jumped again, liquid leaking from the tiny slit in that broad head.

“I can’t wait to taste you,” she whispered.

She’d never said things like that to anyone before, but watching the way it affected him, the way his wide chest pumped rapidly, the way his abs and thighs were so hard he looked carved from marble, gave her the confidence to keep going.

“Do you want me to suck you now?”

Another hiss then his hand moved to the back of her head, fingers spiking through the wet strands of her hair. “Yeah, I want you to suck me.”

She leaned in, tongue darting out, tasting the salty pre-come now leaking steadily down his thick length. “Mmm, delicious.”

His growl echoed around the small space.

She tilted back her head, eyes locking with his. “More?”

“More.”

His voice rumbled so low she felt it in every shaky limb.

Instead of taking him into her hand, her mouth, she held on to his hips and leaned in, kissing the underside, nipping and lapping the thick, pulsing vein there. His fingers tightened in her hair, almost painfully. She loved it.

“More,” he growled again.

Still not giving him what he wanted, she dragged her lips along his shaft, sucking gently as she went, all the way to the base, nuzzling and kissing, dizzy from his musky scent. The muscles under her hands somehow got harder still, a rough moan filling her ears and turning her on even more. He was shaking, close to losing it, to unleashing all that heat on her. She wanted it…more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

He grazed his thumb across her temple, then cupping her chin, tilted up her face to him. “Princess…”

She lapped at the head again, and his pupils dilated. His expression grew fierce, so intense it burned right through her.

“Princess…I need you.”

Oh, God.

She shivered all over.

Another swipe of his thumb…across her cheek this time. “Please, baby, I’m hurting,” he rasped.

His words destroyed her. The look on his face even more so. There was a vulnerability in his stark expression that she didn’t understand—and
need
—so much need.

Her already swollen breasts grew heavier, her nipples so sensitive one scrape against the hairs on his legs had her shuddering—but that plea, it almost had her coming without him even touching her. She took him in her hands and squeezed, sliding upward, milking more liquid from the tip. His groan was low and long, almost pained. She leaned in and sucked the fat head into her mouth, not wasting time, done teasing. She rubbed her tongue along the underside and took him as deeply as she could.

He jerked forward, cock pulsing, and started coming instantly. His shout, followed by his uninhibited moans, filled her ears. His hands went to the wall behind her, holding himself up. Hot come filling her mouth, while he shuddered and pumped his hips uncontrollably.

All control completely gone.

He pulled out, and she stared up at him.

He was still hard as steel.

Before she had a chance to take a breath, he dragged her to her feet. She was up, lifted against the wall. A second after that, he was inside her, thrusting like a man possessed. Mouth attached to her throat, sucking and biting her skin.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “Look what you’ve done to me. Dammit, Shay.” Then his fingers dug harder into her hips, and he started slamming her down onto his cock, meeting each thrust with jarring force. Filling her, each slide of his incredibly hard flesh over her inner walls taking her higher and higher until that was all she was, that point where they were joined—and the dirty, sweet things he was growling in her ear.

“So tight, baby. Always so wet and ready for me. Mine. All mine. Isn’t that right, princess?”

“Yes,” she cried, then on a wanton moan, threw back her head and screamed as her orgasm tore through her. Her body tightened around him, spasming, clenching rhythmically, milking him.

She felt him stiffen, felt the heat of his come pulse inside her, filling her, and all she could think was that she’d made a mistake. She’d pushed, and now she’d gotten what she’d wanted.

Hugh had lost control, and it was—it was glorious.

She’d tried to tell herself she could handle it if he walked away. That she didn’t want anything more from him. That what they were doing was just sex.

But tonight confirmed what she already knew deep down. What they’d just done, what they were doing—it wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t just physical.

It was so much more.

Hugh lay in the dark, Shay curled into his side. He couldn’t sleep. Shit, he could barely fucking breathe. The walls in her tiny trailer felt as if they were closing in, and he was slowly suffocating.

An image of Shay, curled around him, tongue darting out, worshipping the ink on his ribs, flashed through his mind. He gritted his teeth. He’d gotten the tattoo after he’d stolen his first car, his Catholic-raised soul racked with guilt. As if it would somehow bring him closer to God, to forgiveness for his sins. He didn’t believe that anymore. Fuck that. There was no higher power in the driver’s seat of your destiny. Shit happened, then you dealt with it the best you could.

The cross just made him feel like a hypocrite these days.

He curled his fingers into a fist. He didn’t know what was causing it, the unease, the twisting, gripping feeling in his gut. He couldn’t work out what put it there, what had him in knots. He was still seeing Shay, and he’d managed to keep her a secret, out of the line of fire.

They were one car from meeting their deadline in two days. Four more cars to deliver the following month and they were free. But something had him lying there, studying the dark ceiling. Had him clinging to the woman at his side as if she would be torn away from him at any moment.

He squeezed his eyes shut as that tight feeling started to unfurl, uncoiling faster and faster until he struggled to draw a breath, on the verge of a goddamn panic attack. In that moment, it all became clear.

He couldn’t let Shay go.

He’d been lying to himself. Lying to her. She meant something to him—fuck, she meant everything. He’d been too afraid to admit it, even to himself. The risk of losing her, of having to let her go if things didn’t go to plan, was still a very real possibility.

But tonight, after the way she’d gone to her knees in front of him, how she’d driven him past the last shred of his control—the wall had dropped. He couldn’t pretend anymore. Shay was his. He didn’t want casual, didn’t want an end date. He wanted it all.

And as soon as Al was in his rear-view mirror, Hugh was making her his, and he was never letting her go.

He’d tried desperately to ignore the way he felt about her. To deny he’d claimed her as his almost from the moment he’d seen her standing in that parking lot dressed in that barely there costume and looking adorable as hell. He’d been determined to keep her at arm’s length until he could come to her without the constant risk hanging over his head. Sneaking into her place and leaving again under the cover of darkness. Too afraid to have her at his place again because he knew,
he fucking knew
, if he had her there again, in his bed, among his things, he wouldn’t be able to do it any longer.

He wouldn’t be able to let her walk back out his front door.

Wouldn’t be able to pretend this wasn’t so much more than an affair.

When they’d first started she’d been wary. She’d been burned, wasn’t ready to jump into anything, but that changed last night, maybe even before. He’d seen it in her eyes, felt it when he’d dried her off and carried her to bed. When she’d wrapped around him and hung on. Staying that way even after she’d fallen asleep.

How could he continue to treat her as if she meant nothing, when in a short time she’d come to mean every fucking thing. Jesus. He had another month of this, this sneaking around, pretending what they had was only physical.

The only other option was telling her the truth. Telling her what he was. A thief.

He couldn’t do that, couldn’t risk losing her, not when he’d only just found her.

Which meant, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t stay here with her until morning. He couldn’t eat breakfast with her then kiss her goodbye at the door.

Still, knowing all this, he lay there for ten more minutes, smoothing his hand over her skin, her soft belly, the dip of her waist, running the tips of his fingers along the sexy crease below each ass cheek.

Shit.
He needed to leave before he rolled her onto her back and took her again.

Easing from under her, he climbed out of bed, and after tucking the covers around her shoulders, he started dressing. He pulled on his jeans and yanked his shirt down over his head with more force than was necessary.

“You’re going?”

Her voice, husky from sleep, drifted from the bed, soft and sweet, and he wanted to climb back in with her so badly it hurt. He shoved his feet into his boots.

“Yeah, princess. I gotta go.”

The covers rustled then she flicked on the lamp. She was sitting up, sheet around her chest, the smooth, creamy skin of her bare shoulders and arms damn near glowing. Her gorgeous, shiny red hair was mussed and sexy as hell. He remembered fisting it while she sucked his cock, how silky it felt. She looked beautiful all rumpled and recently fucked.

His dick surged behind his zipper to the point of pain in an instant.

“Do you have to go?”

She bit down on her bottom lip, and Jesus, he nearly lost it. One word from her and he’d throw everything out the window, just so he could be inside her again. He’d risk it all.

“I mean…you can stay if you like. I could…I could make you breakfast later…”

His gut tightened painfully at the hopeful expression on her face, the wariness in her beautiful green eyes. This wasn’t easy for her, asking him to stay. She was going out on a limb, had seen in him exactly what he’d seen in her last night. Was trusting her instincts. Something she hadn’t done in a long time. And now he had to make her doubt them, make her believe she was wrong.

He wanted to punch a hole through the goddamn wall.

“Can’t, princess.” The words felt tight in his throat, a struggle to get out. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.” He wanted to go to her, pull her onto his lap and bury his nose in her hair, say he was sorry. But he couldn’t. If he did, he’d stay, and he wouldn’t put her in danger like that.

He wanted to tell her how much he wanted to stay, more than anything, but he couldn’t do that, either. Because the next time he came to her the same thing would happen. How many times could he reject her before she gave up, before she gave up on him? He had to do his best to keep things as they were, just for another month. Four fucking weeks.

She drew her knees to her chest and tightened her arms around them. “Right. Of course.”

Of course.

What did that mean? What was she thinking? He wanted to know desperately, but he couldn’t ask her that, either. He palmed his keys. “Tonight?”

She nodded and rested her chin on her knees.

His feet felt rooted to the damn floor. Everything had changed between them last night. Everything. He wasn’t the only one feeling this thing between them anymore, and he knew what a big deal that was for her. He wanted to reassure her more than anything because he’d hurt her just now. He could see it. And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it if he wanted to keep her safe. If he wanted to keep
her
. “Later, princess.”

“Later,” she whispered.

Then he forced one foot in front of the other and headed for the door. He heard the lamp in the bedroom click off as he opened the door and stepped outside.

Just four more weeks.

He just hoped he didn’t lose her before he was finally free.

* * *

“You need to tell him how you feel,” Kayla said, leaning against the counter.

Kayla often stopped by Raggedy Jane’s on Mondays and usually brought in morning tea for the three of them. Today, she’d brought muffins and coffee. It smelled divine, but Shay’s belly had been churning for the last two days, and she’d barely been able to eat a thing. Ever since she woke to Hugh leaving after what happened in the shower.

After what followed.

She’d thought things had changed, but then he’d left, as he always did.

He’d come by again last night, late, and again, he’d left while it was still dark. Only this morning, when he thought she was still asleep, she’d felt him come to her side of the bed and just stand there. He did this for what felt like forever, then he’d kissed her hair and left.

Which was why she’d finally opened up to her friends about her relationship with Hugh. She was in desperate need of some advice.

Jane took a large bite out of her lemon and cream cheese muffin. “So he just stood there?”

Shay leaned over the counter and rested her chin in her hands. “Yes.” Then she shoved away her muffin and started to pace back and forth. “God.” She threw up her hands. “I’m so confused.”

Kayla washed down her mouthful with coffee. “Are you happy with the way things are?”

Was she? She had been. More than happy, but now…

“It’s not a hard question, girl. Either you are or you aren’t. Which is it?”

Kayla’s all-knowing gaze was locked on Shay, not giving her an inch.

“No.” Saying it out loud, that one little word, it finally sank in, how she felt about Hugh, what she wanted. What she had to do.

She’d stupidly convinced herself that she was safe, that her heart was safe because he wasn’t her “type”. That because he was the complete opposite of the men she’d been attracted to in the past, that casual would be all she’d want from him. Could she have been more naive?

Kayla grinned. “You know I’ve got your back. Anything you need, I’m there. I’m bound. It’s in black and white in our handbook.
Anything
in the pursuit of love.”

Love?
An uneasy feeling squirmed behind Shay’s ribs.

“So you’ll tell him?” Jane asked.

What choice did she have? Shay couldn’t go on like this. Every time he left, a tiny piece of her self-respect went with him. Every time she woke up alone, it—hurt. She was no coward. A few days ago, she would have been certain asking him for more than casual would have sent him running. Now? She wasn’t as sure. These last few nights, the tender way he held her, the way he watched her sleep, the way he kissed her goodbye even when he didn’t know she was aware of it. All those things had to mean something, right?

They finished eating, and Kayla left, telling Shay to call after she’d talked to Hugh. She had no idea what she’d even say. Was she willing to lose him completely? Because that was what could happen.

But she couldn’t do this anymore. She wanted him too much, and if he didn’t feel the same way, she needed to know now before she got in even deeper.

Though, with the way she was feeling, she didn’t think she could get any deeper.

She’d fallen for Hugh Colton, completely and utterly.

Maybe he had the same worries? She’d told him she didn’t want a relationship…several times. Maybe he thought if he asked for more she’d end it?

Gah!
This was making her crazy.

After she finished her shift, she headed home. Edna was waiting for Shay on her front step, so she took Rocky out to do his business then helped Edna with her dinner. Afterward, Shay went back to her place to shower and change. Of course, now, whenever she got into the shower she thought of Hugh. Thought about how his big body filled the small space. About the sounds he’d made, the way he’d let go.

She changed into dark jeans and a soft, black, boat-neck sweater with a cute bow to the side. She finished off the outfit with her favorite black boots, the ones with the spiked heels. After she’d dried and styled her hair, she applied light make-up and her favorite cherry lip gloss. Then she stared at herself in the mirror. She felt good. The look was casual, but the dark sweater made her eyes and hair seem more vibrant.

Nerves zinged through her.
You can do this.

The talk they needed to have couldn’t happen here, in her trailer, where every corner reminded her of Hugh. Of the things they’d done. She’d crumble or chicken out if he came to her. He dominated her small trailer, turned her to mush the instant he walked into a room. They needed to have this talk somewhere else. She’d texted him earlier to see what he was up to. He’d said he was working late. So the garage it would have to be. There were plenty of places they could have privacy, but with Joe and Adam more than likely there as well, he couldn’t sidetrack her with sex.

Grabbing the keys to the Honda—which he’d refused to take back when she’d mentioned it again—she threw her bag over her shoulder and headed out the door. She hadn’t told him she was coming. This was a sneak attack. Probably the wrong move but she had to do this now, before she had the chance to think too deeply about it and back out. She couldn’t wait another night. She’d misunderstood Travis’s feelings for her, had thought they were something more, something real, and she’d been completely wrong. She didn’t know what her ex felt for her now, but it wasn’t love. You couldn’t love someone and want them to change everything about themselves. Hugh liked her the way she was. At least, that’s the way he made her feel. But then her history with men, with her own family, was a red flashing light that she was a crappy judge of character.

She just hoped she hadn’t misjudged Hugh.

* * *

It was just after seven when she pulled up outside the garage. The main doors had been pulled down, but there were several cars out front. Hugh’s truck was one of them. There were also a couple of others she assumed were Joe’s and Adam’s or maybe a customer’s. She didn’t know anything about cars, but one was high end, expensive looking, all shiny black. She faltered for a moment. Could she do this?