by Kitty Paris
Tor
Hot Rods Garage 1
A Bad Boy Alpha Romance
By
Kitty Paris
Copyright © 2020 by Kitty Paris
This book is a work of fiction and is intended for adult audiences only. All characters are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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Table of Contents:
Chapter One - Tor
Chapter Two - Bree
Chapter Three - Tor
Chapter Four - Bree
Chapter Five - Tor
Chapter Six - Bree
Chapter Seven - Tor
Epilogue - Bree
Author's Note
CHAPTER ONE
TOR
“Well, we did it, Tor. We really fucking did it.”
My buddy Ace takes a swig of his gas station coffee as he stands next to me outside the classic car repair shop that we started together. Less than four months ago we were all locked up in jail- me, Ace, Draven and Beau. Ace and I had gotten out first, and we did all the legwork in getting this new business place up and running. Now, we were just waiting on the rest of our crew to be released, and when they were, they’d be joining us.
We're all just a bunch of motorheads that love cars, trying to pick up the pieces and move forward after unfortunate circumstances earned us each a jail sentence.
“Damn straight, we did it. You know I don’t blow steam, dude. When I say I’m going to make something happen, I fucking do it.”
I stand with my arms folded across my chest, staring at the window decal that displayed the name of our shop - Hot Rods Garage. Underneath was our phone number. The sign just went up yesterday, and today we’ll be welcoming our first customer.
He’ll be arriving any minute to drop off his ‘69 Mustang that needs some major body work. I’m determined to do the best job I’d ever done, and make this guy the first happy customer of many. I drained my savings account to put up the money for this place, and I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make this business a success. Failure’s just not an option - it never has been for me.
I unlock the door to the reception office and Ace follows behind me. I take a look around the small office area. Everything’s in place. A desk, a laptop, a box of pens, and a couple chairs for a waiting area. It’ll do for now.
“I can’t wait for Beau and Draven to get here and see this.” Ace is practically giddy, and I almost chide him for it, but decide against it.
I grunt in agreement. All four of us had been locked up for similar reasons, and we’d formed a strong alliance over the course of the year or so that we’d been cell mates. Our friendship started around a shared passion for classic cars, and the rest is history. The other guys still had some time before they’d be free men, but I’d promised them that when the day came, Hot Rods Garage would be in full swing and they’d be welcomed as business partners.
I know the other guys are just as determined as I am, and are ready to work their fingers down to the bloody bone for this business. This is our fresh start, and we all know it.
I’ve never seen Ace so excited about anything - of course, the majority of time I’ve known him, we’ve been in the slammer, and there's not much to get excited about in there.
It makes me happy to see him with a glimmer of hope in his eye for once. The dude’s had a rough life. But I don’t allow myself to crack a smile. It’s not time to celebrate yet. Once we have more customers than we can handle and are making good money, we can party. Until that happens, I’m all business.
“I’m gonna open up the garage doors and turn on the air compressor.” Ace disappears through the glass door that separates the small office from the actual garage.
Seconds later, the bells on the door make a noise, and our first customer walks in.
“Morning, Mr. Reynolds.” I offer him a professional handshake. He’s in his sixties and has a friendly face.
“Please, call me Jack. Nice to finally meet you, Tor.”
Jack is a neighbor of my sister’s. She referred him to the garage to get the restoration work done on his old Mustang that's been sitting in his drive for years.
“Thanks for stopping in. Let’s go get a look at the beast, shall we?”
“She’s parked out front.” I follow Jack into the parking lot. The car is parked on the far end of the lot, near the beauty salon that’s next door to us. I could tell from where I stood that the car is going to need a lot of work.
“She runs, but that’s about it.”
I let out a low whistle. “Yep, this’ll be a process, that’s for sure.” I circle the car, noticing all the rust spots. This machine has been neglected for a long time, but I can see the potential for a new life there. “I can get you a full estimate by the end of the day. A car like this is worth saving. Don’t make ‘em like this anymore, do they?”
Jack nods in agreement. “No sir, they sure don’t. Do what you gotta do. I’m willing and able to pay the price.”
That’s what I like to hear.
He hands me the keys and nods to a sedan with a woman about his age at the wheel. “Wifey is waiting for me. Gotta keep the lady happy.” He laughs and the woman waves when she sees us looking in her direction. “Take good care of my baby. Call me later with an update. I can’t wait to see what you can do.”
“Will do.” I take the keys and we shake hands again. I can’t wait to get my hands on this car and do what I’m best at - taking an ugly situation and making it my bitch. This car’s going to be show-worthy by the time we get done with it.
I wave at Jack and he drives off. As soon as he’s gone, I turn my attention back to the car, making a mental list of the things that are going to need fixed first.
“Excuse me, but you can’t park this here.” A woman’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
I look up and squint in the morning sun until my eyes focus on about five feet three inches of pure sex and sass. She stands with one hand on her hip, which draws my attention to her accentuated curves. She’s got full, wide hips and a chest that I’d give about anything to bury my face in.
My eyes finally make it to her face. Her pouty lips aren’t smiling, but that doesn’t make me want to bite them any less. Her hair is brunette and voluminous, like she just stepped out of a spa. She’s got thick, dark eyelashes, with a bit of makeup that give her eyes a cat-like appearance.
Bad kitty.
“Ok,” I answer slowly, not wanting to provoke her further, even though I’d love to feel those claws down my back. The woman is clearly not happy with me. “I was about to pull it into the garage now. By the way, I’m Tor Knight. I run the repair shop here. And you are?”
She ignores my question at first. “I’ve got an elderly client on the way, and she needs this front space.” Then, she finally addresses my question. “I’m Bree Warner. I own this beauty salon, so it appears we’re neighbors now.” She doesn’t seem thrilled by this in the least. “I’ve been operating here for five years, and my clients expect a certain experience when they come see me. One that doesn’t involve having to navigate around a junkyard, so please keep your business on your property and we won’t have any issues.”
<
br /> Wow. I’d been in jail for the past year and a half and still couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a talking-to as stern as I was getting from this vamp of a woman.
I've never been so offended and turned on at the exact same time. Hot damn. She’s a headache and an erection all wrapped up in one curvy package that I’d love to tear open and eat.
“I’ll advise my customers to park in a designated area from now on,” I promise her, my gaze automatically drifting down to her cleavage. I was powerless to keep myself from looking.
“Thank you.” She softens a little when she sees that I’m not trying to fight her on this.
Without another word, she saunters back toward the salon. I watch as she walks away, the sway of her perfectly round ass making me remember how long it’s been since I’ve had a woman.
Yep, it’s been too long. It’s about damn time, and I want that one.
CHAPTER TWO
BREE
I knew the guys moving in next door were going to be trouble. When I found out the place was sold, I couldn’t resist looking up the public records to see who bought it. When I found a name, I did a quick search on Torrence Knight. Turns out he’s a convict who was put away for assault. Just what I needed - an ex-con opening up shop next to me and scaring away my business.
What the public records didn’t tell me was that Torrence - or Tor, as he apparently preferred to be called - was quite possibly the hottest man alive.
My pulse is still racing from my encounter with Tor. I swear he was checking me out. There’s no way it was my imagination. The guy was practically drooling.
I double check the appointment book and tidy up the waiting area, but as I go through the morning routine to get ready for a busy day at the salon, I find my thoughts keep drifting back to him.
I certainly didn’t expect an ex-con to look like that. I thought they all had missing teeth and dirty hair. I didn’t think they smelled of raw masculinity and had a body that I wanted to climb all over.
I try to ignore the dampness in my panties that he’s caused as I go about my morning tasks. Most days I’m way too busy to even give sex much thought, but after being within a couple feet of Tor and his sex-god-like body, I realize how long it’s been since I’ve had any action.
Damn. I could tell from the tight t-shirt he was wearing that his body is very well- built. I let my mind wander, picturing what his bare chest must look like. What his hips must look like. What his cock must look like.
I bet it’s as thick and strong as the rest of him.
I feel an electric pulse run from my belly straight to my pussy.
Focus. I need to focus.
This salon is my whole life. I saved up money for years and finally opened the place when I was twenty three years old. My business has been my life and it’s pretty much all I have going for me. I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen, and if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s staying focused. When the other girls my age were going out clubbing and picking up random guys, I was working, going to cosmetology school, and saving up to start my business. I’m all I’ve ever had to rely on, and frankly, I like it that way. No bullshit from other people to worry about. Everything is my way, and my life is drama-free.
I’m not about to let a hot guy make me lose my focus now. Especially not one who’s a jailbird. Even if I was looking to date, which I’m not, it’d at least be with someone who is not a violent criminal.
I look up as the front door opens, and Sami, my only employee, walks in. She only works part time on the weekends, when I’m too busy to handle all the walk-ins myself.
“Hey, Sami! Ready for a busy day?” I ask her. Sami’s worked for me for about a year, and she’s great.
“Always ready,” she says with a smile. She gets to work setting up her station. “I saw the new business next door just opened. Looks like some real eye candy over there. Have you met them yet?”
I stall coming up with a response, and am saved when my first client walks in.
“Good morning, Mrs. Wilken!” I greet her, glad for the distraction. I dive into work, determined to put Tor Knight out of my mind.
*****
“Goodnight, Bree. Are you sure you’re ok closing up?”
“Of course. You get out of here and enjoy your evening. Thanks, Sami. You’re the best.”
“Thanks. See you next week then.” She blows me a kiss and heads out.
The door closes behind her, leaving me in silence. It’s just getting dark out, and my feet are killing me. I can’t wait to go home, heat up some dinner, and flip on a movie. I’m usually too tired to do much other than that by the time I get home everyday.
I carefully count the money in the register and slide it into an envelope. Just as I turn to head toward the back office where I keep the locked safe, I’m started by the door opening again. I expected to see Sami, coming back for something she left behind.
Instead, there’s a man I’ve never seen before standing menacingly over the reception desk. He smells like stale cigarette smoke and is unshaven, with beady eyes that made me immediately uncomfortable.
“Can I help you?” I ask impatiently.
“I’d like to get a haircut little miss.”
I like him even less now that I've heard his voice . “We’re closed.” I stop myself from inviting him to come back tomorrow when I reopen. I don’t ever want to see this guy again. He’s giving me the creeps.
“It’ll only take a minute sweetie. I don't have much up top. I'll tip you real good, I promise.” He reaches over the desk and touches my hand, giving me a disgusting wink.
I stand up, my hand reaching for the hammer that I keep under the counter. “I said I’m closed. It’s time for you to leave. Now.” I speak firmly, squaring my shoulders and trying to make myself look as big as possible.
He starts to come around behind the counter and my fingers close around my weapon. My adrenaline surges. One more step and I’m going to swing.
“Don’t be hostile, honey. I don’t see a ring on your finger now. Let’s give each other somethin’ to smile about. How ‘bout it darlin’?”
“If you don’t leave now, I promise you’ll regret it.” I give him one last warning.
I’m not a violent woman, and I can’t imagine hitting someone with an actual hammer, but I will if it comes down to it. I’m not afraid to stand up for myself and all the things I’ve worked so hard for.
The man sneers and keeps moving toward me. I prepare to strike. I can feel myself shake as I get ready to swing at him. I can’t believe this is happening.
I close my eyes for a split second, then hear the door open again.
Shit, there’s more of them. There’s a whole gang. Oh God.
Instead of more thugs, I see Tor charge inside and lunge at the creepy man. He grabs him from behind and flings him around, elbowing him in the face, hard. The man falls to the ground like a rag doll, his hand flying to his now bloody nose.
Cursing, the creep scrambles to his feet. Tor grabs for him again, this time catching him around the throat. I watch as Tor’s massive fingers squeeze around the man’s jugular, making his eyes go wide.
“If I catch you anywhere near here again, I’ll break your fucking neck. You got it?” He’s staring into the man’s eyes with sheer rage and violence.
The creep tries to nod, but can’t move. He gasps for air, and Tor releases his grip, only to grab him again by the back of his collar. He drags him out of the salon like a dog, the creep spitting and sputtering as he’s literally thrown out onto the sidewalk. He takes off running as soon as he's free.
“Are you alright?” Tor turns to me, looking me up and down, as if assessing any damage.
“I’m fine.” I try not to let on how shaken I am.
“Are you sure? Let me…” Tor reaches out to me but I move away. I feel overwhelmed and I just want to be alone to calm down. My adrenaline is still through the roof.
“You didn’t need to do that. It’s not
the first time a creep has been in here and it won’t be the last. I can handle it on my own. You don’t need to get involved, and I wish you wouldn’t. I don’t need to clean up after a brawl.” I fold my arms, feeling anxious and defensive, but also...aroused. I stood there looking at Tor’s gorgeous blue eyes and shaggy hair and shapely biceps.
“I saw that guy come in here and I could tell he might be trouble,” Tor explains. “I was afraid you'd need help.”
I stand in front of Tor, arms folded. My body wants me to wrap myself around him and ride him until I pass out. But my brain tells me to stay away from him. He's a troublemaker.
“If I need your help, I’ll ask. I want you to know that I’ve been doing this by myself for years and I’ve gotten along just fine. Goodnight, Tor.”
He looks like I slapped him, but he just nods and puts his hands up in surrender. “Alright, then. Goodnight.”
I don’t mean for my tone to be so clipped but with Tor its one extreme or the other for me. I feel like I have to be rude, because if I let myself go the other way, I’ll be on my knees taking his big, strong cock into my mouth - there's no middle ground and I have to be careful.
I have to look out for myself. If I don’t, nobody else will. That’s how it’s always been. Tor could easily be one big, hot distraction if I let him be. I have to stay focused and not give him an inch, even though deep down I want every inch he has to offer, deep inside me.
CHAPTER THREE
TOR
The opening day of Hot Rods Garage went about as good as I could have hoped, except for having to kick some creep’s ass, and my inability to stay on Bree’s good side, no matter what I did.
Bree Warner is a firecracker. Hot and snappy. She’s all that’s on my mind as I drive home. I waited until I saw her safely get into her car before I locked up the garage and went left. I wasn’t going to leave until I knew that asshole wasn’t going to come back and bother her.
