Dirty Delilah (4 page)

Delilah reached for the beer Asa had ordered for her, took a gulp and grimaced. She’d rather have something stronger, but this would do.

Sitting down at the small deck table, she sighed. “It wasn’t you, Asa. My dad? He didn’t stop writing because of you. It was my mother.”

He pulled his chair close to hers, flipped it around and straddled it, his expression concerned. “She came back?”

Delilah nodded. “For a weekend. I didn’t know until after the fact. It was all very secretive and romantic. Dad rented a limo, took her to a penthouse suite in Beverly Hills—the works. He wanted her to see how well he was doing, I think. And she’d convinced him that she wanted to wait to see
us
until she knew they were okay.” She took another drink. “Afterwards, he thought she was going home to pack her bags and let her new husband down easy. That we would be a family again. He even gave her a wad of cash so she could buy us all matching diamond necklaces to win our favor—her idea. A few days later the boob-job-bozo came to our house to let us know that Valerie had done it again—left
him
for a musician who was fifteen years younger. A guy who lived in his truck between gigs, mind you. Dad was…well, you can imagine how he took it.”

Asa swore under his breath. “I can. Shit, Delilah I’m sorry. I wish I’d known. I wouldn’t have let him shut me out again.”

She shook her head. “He didn’t want anyone to know. Not only did she pull the rug out from beneath him again, but this time it wasn’t even for money. It’s just because of who she is. What she is. He’d wasted all those years hoping to show her he was worthy of her, but in the end he found out what I knew all along—
she
wasn’t good enough for
him
.”

And he gave up his life and his friends, his shop, for an illusion.

Asa reached for her hand and slid his fingers through hers. “I’m sorry, Del.”

“Déjà vu,” she laughed darkly. “Are we back where we left off eleven years ago? You comforting me about my selfish mother?”

His fingers tightened around hers. “Not even close,” he assured her. “You are an amazing woman, Delilah. Confident, sensual and strong. This is nothing like the last time. Selfishly, I still long to shock you—just a little. Maybe when we’re done here and I get you alone, you can tell me about one of your more scandalous fantasies, and I’ll take it from there.”

Delilah looked down at the tray of appetizers and set the beer down beside it. “I’m done, Wild Man. You?”

“Done?” His smile was the definition of sin. “I think we’re just getting started.”

Chapter Three

“Why are we back at the garage?”

Delilah was impatient. Getting back on his bike had been her foreplay—having him hold her hand and press it against his flat stomach, her body rocking against him and her sex humming from the engine’s vibration. She thought he’d take her back to his place, or back to her hotel, and then they could rip each other’s clothes off and finally get some relief. Instead, he pulled up beside the dark repair shop and turned off his headlight.

Was this about reliving the past again? Going back to the garage where he’d rejected her and getting dirty on the grit-covered floor? She could think of worse ideas. And so many better ones. “Asa?”

“Shh,” he whispered. “Crime shouldn’t have an audience. Grab the To-Go bag.”

Crime?

He tapped her thigh and she got off the bike, grabbing the bag of appetizers from the restaurant and watching as he did the same and then grabbed her free hand, pulling her around the back of the building.

“You have keys now, you know,” she muttered. “You have a rental agreement that allows you on the property after business hours. What the hell are we doing?”

He passed the backdoor to her father’s garage and kept going until he reached a heating unit that stood silent beneath a high window. He stepped onto it and tugged. “We aren’t sneaking into my garage, Del. We’re sneaking into
his
.”

Sebastian.

“Shit,” she swore as he pulled her up beside him. “Asa, this isn’t a good idea. All he’d need is the smallest excuse to have you arrested for trespassing. I’m twenty-eight, not sixteen, and my business has a good rep—”

“Delilah.” He held her against his body and pressed his lips to her neck, his teeth scraping just hard enough to make her shiver. “I do this all the time and he’s never stopped me. There’s something I want to show you, a place I need to show you. I promise you won’t regret it. Trust me?”

Damn it. How was she supposed to resist when she felt his rough hand slip under her blouse and caress her skin? She would let him take her right here. Or in Sebastian’s workshop. Anywhere. “Yes.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers digging into her flesh. “I love hearing you say that. I can’t wait to hear how it sounds when I’m inside you.”

Neither could she. “Crime,” she gasped. “Hurry.”

“Crime,” he rasped back. “On it.”

He let her go, pulled something small and metallic out of his pocket and reached up to the window’s lock. In seconds she heard the catch release and then he lifted the glass.

Delilah couldn’t help her grin. “You
have
done this before. Did you ever think that might be the reason he’s trying to buy the garage out from under you?”

“Nah,” he laughed softly, adjusting the window so they could get through it. “He doesn’t want me to leave at all. The man idolizes me.”

Now she was laughing. “I think you might be too cocky for your own good.”

“You can tell me in the morning. I think I’m exactly cocky enough. Hand me the bag. Up you go.”

She shook her head. “First? What if I trigger an alarm or break something?”

“Done this,” he repeated patiently. “There’s a table right beneath this window. I’m going to lift you up, and you just have to step down.”

He put his hands on her hips and she closed her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“It’s good to know I can still shock you. Now grab on…yeah, there, and slide your legs through. Good girl.”

She was standing on a table in the sexy Sebastian’s workshop. She was officially a criminal.

It was kind of fun. “Hurry up, Asa.”

She got down and watched him come through—black boots, long lean legs and sweet ass first—to stand on the table. He looked down at her with a wicked grin. “For a top-secret motorcycle building lair, that is way too easy. Or I’m good.”

She pursed her lips. “It was easy.”

He placed a hand on his chest. “Ouch.” Jumping down from the table, he set down the food, straightened his jacket and looked around. “Unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask you to close your eyes now.”

“What? Why?”

He sighed, holding her shoulders when she would have turned around and looked over her shoulder. “Because he wants to show you this himself, and I can’t take you where
I
plan to until I fix the mess he’s made.”

“Until you fix what mess?” He moved behind her and she clenched her fists. “
What
are you talking about?” And then it hit her. “The KII is behind me isn’t it? Oh God, Asa, are you
touching
the KII?”

“Touching. Fondling. Fiddling.” She could hear the laughter in his voice. “Close your eyes, Delilah. I mean it.”

She closed her eyes, though she was dying of curiosity. “They’re closed. But what are you fixing? Sebastian Kosta is a young, exceptionally muscular man. If you touch something on his prized machine he could hurt you.”

“Exceptionally?
I’m
muscular,” he countered. “Should I be offended that you noticed how ripped Zorba the Geek is or by how much you underestimate my fighting skills?”

She blew out a frustrated sigh. “Asa, you can’t just—”

“Hang on,” he interrupted her. “He completed the modifications on the mounts like I told him to, but he’s never going to make this baby work if he can’t…”

His voice faded and Delilah frowned.
He
told him to make the modifications Sebastian’s assistant was talking about? “When did you tell him?”

“Bend over, Delilah.”

She almost turned around at that. “
Excuse me?
”

He laughed and nudged her with his hips. “I need you to pass me that Post-it pad on the shelf under the table. I have to write some notes.”

She grumbled as she opened her eyes and bent down to get what he wanted. “So I’m supposed to believe this? That he knows you break in and leave notes like a motorcycle fairy? That all that talk he gave me about you not believing in what he was doing and hating change and turning Angel and the Major against him is a crock? I’m supposed to go to his place for breakfast tomorrow. Do I just pretend I don’t know that you’re the one building the ‘brilliant engineer of tomorrow’s’ motorcycle for him?”

He took the pad from her and wrapped his arms around her. “He said all that? I do give him hell, and I admit to hating most change—I certainly prefer our garage to this fancy, sterile workshop vibe he has going on. But I think he might have a great machine here. And he envisioned the KII all on his own but he’s just…well, he’s an on-paper guy. Some things you can only learn with hands on experience. And none of his guys have what I do. Honestly, I’m only trying to help the guy out. I’d hate to see a sweet ride like this flop.”

She heard the pen scratching on the pad and crossed her arms. “So why am I here? Why are you breaking in to help instead of working with him and sharing the credit? Why did you make an offer on the garage?”

“Those are all complicated questions with more than one answer, Del. And I’m done now, so it’s time to go.”

“Where?”

He was guiding her with his hand over her eyes. God, his hands were sexy. A few seconds later he stopped and took his hand away. “Upstairs.”

Upstairs? He opened a narrow side door that looked like a closet, but Delilah’s eyes widened when she realized there was a narrow walkway behind it. “There is no upstairs. Is this new?”

“Nope.” Asa sounded smug. “When I first got here, as soon as Dallas realized I was sleeping in a blanket behind his building because I didn’t have a place to stay, he showed me this. The office is on the other side of that wall. This leads to an attic storage area, but it might as well have been the find of the century to your dad. And to me. I threw down a mattress and called it home until I made enough to afford my own place. See that ladder? That’s where we’re going.”

She hadn’t known about it, or about Asa having nowhere to sleep, but his early arrival at work every day made sense now. He’d lived here.

She climbed the ladder, feeling his presence close behind her, and pushed open the hatch that led to his secret loft. It was too dark to see anything, and she stood in still silence until he walked around her and flipped on a switch.

Her eyes widened as she looked around. She’d expected a mattress on the floor and empty fast food bags. Not this. A funky chandelier made out of cracked headlights. A bed frame of welded chrome. A rebuilt 1970’s dirt bike welded to a stand, as if it would start and drive away if it wasn’t bolted down. There was even a stunning sculpture made out of rusted transmission gears. And all over the wall were sketches of motorcycles and engine parts. 

“How did I not know this was here?” she breathed.

“You had the whole warehouse to yourself. What would you need with a hole in the wall?”

“You made it all didn’t you?”

His fingers sifted through her hair as he stood behind her, letting her take it in. “Out of extra or throwaway parts, yeah. I didn’t have a television. Had to find some way to entertain myself.”

“This is amazing, Asa. If you ever got tired of repairing bikes you could sell some of these pieces.”

“Funny.”

“I’m serious.” She turned around, unable to hide her reaction. “You’re incredible.”

“So are you, Delilah. And I wanted to show you that I always saw it. Even when you were too young for that to be a good thing. Come here.” He guided her to the bedside table and handed her a ragged sketchbook. “Take a look.”

She heard him moving around, taking off his jacket while she sifted through pages filled with drawings.

Almost all of them were of her.

A teenage Delilah in her overalls sitting on the ground, holding a modified wrench to adjust the timing cam on a beautiful 1930 Henderson. A detailed sketch of her profile, wisps of hair damp against her cheek in the summer heat. Still another of her standing in the rain, her grease covered hands outstretched and the shirt she hadn’t realized was that thin clinging to her round breasts and hard nipples like a second skin.

Delilah bit her lip. It didn’t make any sense. Every day it seemed he’d come into the garage with another story. Another conquest. Another woman. The damn arrow tattoos. But he’d drawn her as if he’d memorized every inch of her body. Every expression on her face. As if she were the only girl he could see.

Why, in all these years, had he never let her know?

Asa shifted on his feet and sighed when she closed the book without a word. “Dallas was my mentor and you were a minor, Del. I was already walking on thin ice with the law as it was. Not only that, but you were special. Smart. And you had a father who wanted you to reach your potential. You were destined for big things. There were so many reasons why sending you away was the right thing to do…and only one for keeping you. I know the past is in the past, but I wanted you to know. I need you to know that you weren’t in that crush by yourself.”

His words were making it hard for her to breathe.

“Thank you.” Delilah stood up and took off her jacket, balancing on one foot and then the other to slip off her boots. “And congratulations.”

Asa had gone still, his blue eyes narrowing as if he sensed the charged change in the atmosphere. “For?”

She tugged her peasant blouse over her head and let it drop on the floor, watching him stare at the sheer fabric and lace of her matching turquoise bra.

“Shocking me. You’ve done it.” She undid the top button of her jeans. “Breaking and entering. Secret rooms. Hidden talents.”