Rewind & Go: A Blue-Collar Billionaire Romance (Sander's Valley Book 1) (14 page)

She placed a hand on her hip. “Do you like what you see?”

Her voice took on a slight drawl, and his dick reacted to her sultry tone. He ignored the blood giving his penis life and brought his gaze to her face.

His heart skipped a beat. A small nose, plump, glossy lips, and chocolate-colored eyes complemented her oval face. She wore a Phillies baseball hat with a braid of dark-brown hair drawn through the back. He took in all the details and barely stopped his groan from escaping.

The woman was gorgeous. No doubt about it. That wasn’t all, though. She was…

Lickable.
The word came to mind. He wanted to lay her out, spread her thighs, and feast. She’d be soft, wet, and yielding. His mouth watered. He swept his tongue out, already anticipating the taste of her arousal. He hadn’t worshipped a girl in a long time, and the one perched over his face triggered something inside him. He wasn’t sure what but felt damn confident he’d never experienced it before.

Her breath escaped in a rush. He shifted his gaze from the apex of her thighs to her face. Desire-ridden eyes met his. He let his grin spread. “As a matter of fact, I do like what I see. How about you?”

She stepped to his side and perused him as thoroughly as he had her. His skin burned under her inspection. He clenched his hands and willed his dick to behave. It had other ideas. They all involved the brown-eyed exotic woman playing country girl. He’d bet money she’d dressed the part.

Her stance exuded confidence and sophistication. Sure, some of the locals carried an aura of assurance, but the woman scrutinizing him oozed power. He didn’t know how else to explain it. She was the kind of girl who knew when she walked into a room all heads would turn, and she didn’t care.

Her gaze returned to the bulge in his blue, grease-stained pants. She dragged her tongue over her upper lip, slowly. So damn slowly. The groan he’d been trying to keep in check escaped. She smiled and met his eyes. “Why yes, Wyn, I do like what I see.”

“How do you know my name?”

She chuckled and bent over him. Her shirt gaped. His attention dropped to her exposed upper chest. He couldn’t help it. The sight of her creamy skin tempted him closer, much like her tiny tattoo had.

The little vixen leaned over more and tapped his right breast pocket. He vaguely realized what she pointed at—his nametag. The thought came and went as his gaze locked on to her small breasts lovingly caressed by sheer white lace. Her pebbled nipples pushed against the material, and the outline of her areolae showed through, but it was the edge of another inking peeking from beneath her bra cup that held his attention. A butterfly, if he had to guess. He didn’t want to guess. He wanted to know.

“Now…” She sat back so she ended up crouched over him, the heat of her groin inches from his. “I was wondering if you could help me.”

Kiss her. Worship her. Fuck her until she milked him dry. He’d be up for anything. Somehow he suspected that wasn’t what she meant. “What do you need?”

Her eyes twinkled. “That’s an open-ended question, Wyn.”

“I suppose it is.” He let his gaze caress her sweet body, then met her eyes. “How about we start with why you’re in my garage after hours.”

She frowned. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were closed. The door was open.”

“That’s okay, Miss…”

“Volkov.”

A sense of trepidation settled over him. “That sounds Russian.”

She flashed him a smile that did something funny to his chest. It made it tighten while his heart raced.

“It is Russian. Very good, Wyn. You’re not only handsome but smart too.”

If she only knew the truth. He cleared his throat. “Your first name wouldn’t happen to be Iona, would it?”

Her eyes widened. “Yes, yes it is. How—”

“My brother is marrying your sister.”

She stood and eased away from him as if he’d suddenly contracted a contagious disease. “I’m sorry. Ronnie didn’t mention much about Kyle’s family. I never would’ve…I mean, I didn’t know you were…and I’m not normally…”

She clamped a hand over her mouth.

He pushed from the ground. Her eyes turned to saucers, and she stepped back. At six-seven, he towered over most people. Even with the heels she wore, he had a good foot on her and probably a hundred pounds, maybe one-thirty. He’d learned to expect a range of reactions to his size, but the fear in her eyes cut at his heart.

Slow steps brought him to within inches of her. He lifted a hand. She flinched. He dropped his balled fist to his side. “Don’t be afraid, Iona. I won’t hurt you.”

Another smile spread over her face, but it didn’t come close to touching the terror in her brown orbs. “Of course you won’t. I was just surprised at how very tall and”—she dropped her gaze to his chest—“wide you are.”

“Am I still handsome?” Why he asked, he didn’t know. He held his breath for her answer though.

She blinked, and whatever had upset her vanished. The hint of lust returned, making her eyes more black than brown. “Of course. I’m sure your girlfriend would agree.”

Cautious of her reaction, he raised his hand. No cringing. He breathed a sigh of relief and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I wouldn’t have been mentally undressing you if I had a girl in my life.”

“Then the women in this country are fools.”

Or, more accurately, he was. Every time a girl brought up exclusiveness, he ran. “Just haven’t found the right one yet.”

It was the same excuse he’d been giving his mama for years. Iona’s cocked brow suggested she didn’t buy it either.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll meet her someday.” She stepped back, breaking their slight contact. “Now, I hope you’ll be able to help me with my car.”

He shrugged off the disappointment. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I just bought it yesterday.” She caught her bottom lip and worried it between her teeth. He had the sudden urge to nibble on it for her. “And I ran out of gas.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then snapped his mouth closed. “Did you put any gas
in
it?”

She studied the floor. Her shoulders slumped. He inwardly cursed his callousness.

“No, I should’ve, but”—she peeked at him from beneath her lashes—“I just didn’t think of it. The gas gauge read full.”

Her embarrassment slashed him like a whip. He tried to come up with an apology. None came to mind. He sucked at them. Any girl he’d dated would attest to that. “Why didn’t you call Ronnie?”

She blew out a rough breath. “My cell died before I hit Pennsylvania.”

“Okay, let’s go take a look at your car.” He motioned her forward.

“You might want to lock up. It stopped running outside of town.”

He pointedly glanced at her heels. “Don’t tell me you walked all the way here.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “I certainly wouldn’t get in any of the strange men’s cars who stopped.” She planted a hand on her hip. “Do I look stupid?”

“No.” Drop-dead gorgeous, cultured, and sexy. He’d guessed right. She was different from the local women. “You remind me of a princess.”

She cleared her throat. “A princess?”

“Yep, I remember Ronnie saying something about her birth father having ties to the Russian royalty.” Learning about the affair her mom had kept hidden had been a shock, but not as much as when her real dad’s wife arranged for Ronnie’s murder.

Iona gave a slow shake of her head, pulling him back to the present. “No, I’m not a princess.”

“Too bad.” He laid a palm against Iona’s lower back and led her to the door. “I could’ve pretended to be your prince.”

She stopped walking. Her back went ramrod straight.

“Iona?”

She flashed him an overly bright grin. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

She blinked. “Certainly. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious is all.” He opened the door and motioned her outside. “I think I’d make a horrible prince anyway. I’m more of a knight, ready to come to your rescue.”

Her expression softened. “Yes, you are.” She rested the tips of her fingers on his arm. “I’m truly grateful too. I could use my own protector.” She cleared her throat. “From shady car salesmen, I mean.”

With that, she strode across the parking lot, head held high. His gaze drifted to the sway of her slim hips. He felt an answering awareness in his dick, but her words captured his attention and stirred his curiosity.

She needed a protector, huh? He couldn’t help but think she meant that literally.

Normally, he’d shrug it off as not being his business. With Iona, however, he didn’t. For the first time in his life, he wanted to take the time to find out what she was hiding and fix it. Then he’d get her to refocus her passion on him, not whatever frightened her.

Continue reading Love in Repair

Sometimes the greatest finds are unexpected.

After five centuries, Rafe Alexander knows what to expect from life—boredom broken by the occasional call from Shifter Affairs. No matter how mundane the job, he always accepts their plea for help. He knows what it’s like to lose loved ones to the shifter trafficking rings decimating their species.

But the task that takes him to West Virginia changes everything. A human is dead. A shifter child is missing. And the human female connected to both tragedies is hiding a secret.

He needs to discover the mystery surrounding her. But the felines he houses—lion, tiger and jaguar—want him to get close to her for another reason. Jasmine is special, both for how she affects him and for the treasure she’s been guarding.

And as danger mounts, he’s left balancing his desire for revenge and his need to protect. But the line between them isn’t always black and white, especially where his family is concerned.

Chapter One

A bar. He brought the kid to a damn bar.

Rafe Alexander gripped the steering wheel. The tips of his fingers burned from the press of his sharpened nails against his skin, and his jaw ached from the pressure of his fangs sliding into place. He wanted to beat the human for exposing a preschooler to world of drunks and illicit behaviors.

But if it saved her?
Yeah. If the human kept their cub from falling into the wrong hands, Rafe would be thanking the guy, right after he explained with his fists that a bar in the backwoods of West Virginia wasn’t the right environment for a little girl.

He slammed the SUV’s door and strode across the bar’s parking lot. A few males tucked their dates closer and turned in the opposite direction. Others dropped their gazes to the pavement underfoot. The familiar reaction to his presence annoyed him, but it wasn’t their fault. Humans might not know what he was by looking at him, but they sensed the danger—the predator in their midst—and reacted accordingly.

He tightened his control over his primal side. He didn’t need any attention directed his way, not with the shit that had gone down here a few hours ago: a fire that resulted in a fatality.

Sure, tragedies happened all the time, and in the grand scheme of things, one human’s passing was a blip on the radar. For Rafe, though, Tony Conway’s death was personal. The male had unknowingly adopted a shifter, a rare white lion cub Rafe had been tasked with retrieving.

He cursed. The fire was too damn coincidental.
Word of a shifter cub living among humans surfaces, and the next day her human father dies. Yeah, it’s not related at all. Right.

Once the fire chief finished his investigation, he’d realize the fire hadn’t been an accident too. The authorities would begin to search for the arsonist. It wouldn’t do them any good. Even if they collected evidence from the scene, they wouldn’t understand why Tony had been targeted. Rafe couldn’t share the details surrounding Megan’s uniqueness with them either. Shifters were fictional beings in most humans’ eyes. That fact hampered Rafe’s efforts. He was left on the sidelines with limited options.

Rafe’s lion, one of the three feline spirits he housed, snarled, echoing his frustration. He used a mental hand to stroke the big cat’s side. It was the best he could do to calm the animal since it couldn’t speak or share its thoughts with him. His tiger and jaguar, the other two felines he’d been born with, nudged him, seeking his reassure too.