Spin (Boosted Hearts Book 2)

by Sherilee Gray

  Tell him to stop. Say the damn words.

  But then she wrapped her arms around his neck instead and clung tighter, absorbing every groan and dirty sound he made as he devoured her.

  Just once.

  Just this once.

  Chapter Six

  Jesus, Darcey felt good under him.

  Her arms were locked around Joe’s neck, tits smashed against his chest. Her mouth soft, yielding to his. Fuck, he couldn’t get enough of her. One of her hands slid to the side of his neck, her warm fingers gripping him tighter. The other drifted across his head, nails grazing his scalp, setting off tingles like she wanted to fist some hair. For the first time since he’d started buzzing it, he wished he had some. Instead, she gripped the back of his head and held on like she was afraid he’d stop.

  Like fuck.

  He’d wanted her, wanted this, since that night behind the bar. Since she’d worked him up to a full-on frenzy then left him burning alive. No one since had made him feel this way—this desperate, this hungry. Hell, he hadn’t actually been with anyone else since that night. He’d tried, but they weren’t Darcey. The woman she’d scared off, pretending to be his wife—he’d already changed his mind about going home with her before she’d even come back and slapped him. All because of the hot-one-minute, cold-the-next, kick-ass, vulnerable enigma beneath him. She’d gotten under his skin in a way that made, literally, no sense. In a way he had no hope of rationalizing.

  He didn’t know what was happening between them, he just knew he didn’t want it to stop and now that she’d given him some of the answers he’d been desperate for, he was determined to get the rest. He needed to know everything about this woman. All her secrets.

  Stay with me, Joe. Don’t wanna be by myself anymore.

  Her words from last night wouldn’t let up. Yeah, she’d been shit-faced when she’d said them, and anyone else would write them off as drunk talk, but he couldn’t. He’d fucking felt her words, her plea. He was staying right where he was. Planned on finding out what caused the darkness behind her midnight-blue eyes. What Al fucking Ramirez held over her.

  She whimpered, followed by a soft gasp that he felt in his gut. He growled against her lips, kissing along her jaw, sucking on her delicate, smooth skin, and breathing in her sweet scent. He was fucking dizzy from it.

  One of her hands slid down his back and up under his shirt, her fingers hot, digging into his flesh. That felt good—God, amazing. She was only touching his back, and he was damn near shaking. The amount of times he’d thought about having her hands on him again, how badly he craved it, skin to skin… Yeah, he needed this. Needed her.

  Her legs were tangled with his, and she wriggled, getting them free. For a minute, he thought she was going to shove him away and leave him high and dry again. But she didn’t. She fucking spread for him, thighs hugging his hips.

  Fuck yeah.

  Her tiny skirt got forced up, bunching at her waist, and the soft heat between her thighs made contact with his aching dick. He needed to get rid of these fucking jeans so he could feel her properly. So he could sink inside her and finally learn what it felt like to have her gripping him tight, her slick pussy stretching for his cock.

  For Joe, kissing had always been okay, a teaser before the main course, but with Darcey, it was something else. He didn’t want to ever stop. His mouth was fused to hers, her sweet tongue flicking over his in a way that made his dick throb. The moans she fed him, making him damn near mindless. Tilting his head, he deepened it while sliding a hand under her shirt so he could cup her tit.

  Yeah, shit. Nice.

  They were big for her smaller frame. Soft and full, nipples hard peaks against his palm. He shoved her shirt higher and forced himself to finally tear his mouth from hers so he could see her. He twisted down to get a good look. Aw fuck. He dove in on a groan, burying his face between the perfect mounds. Darcey sucked in a breath when he trailed hot, urgent kisses along the soft, overflowing tops of her breasts, sucking and licking the creamy flesh trying to explode out of her bra.

  “Shit, Darcey. These tits. Fuck. Been imagining what they’d look like, how they’d feel in my hands, in my mouth… Tight, little nipples against my tongue.”

  She chuckled breathlessly. “Your beard tickles.”

  Then she was whimpering again, because he was sucking her through the fabric, her back arching, causing the lace covering her to dip lower, but not quite low enough. When he hooked a finger over the delicate fabric, he realized his hand was shaking. Had he ever been this desperate to see a woman’s nipples before? Desperate to know their color, their size, how sensitive she was when he sucked and licked them. Mouth watering, he started to tug it down…

  Darcey’s phone buzzed, rattling on her bedside table, followed by three long, loud beeps. She jolted, froze for a second, then yanked his hand away from her boob and shoved at his chest. “Get off.”

  What the fuck? “Darcey?”

  She hissed and growled like a wildcat. “Now.”

  As soon as he rolled away, she dove for the phone and checked the screen. She shoved a hand in her hair and bit her lip.

  “What is it?” She didn’t seem to hear him. “Darce, what’s going on?”

  She shot to her feet, pulling her top down, covering her bare skin with trembling hands. “You need to leave. I gotta go.”

  Breathing past the raging lust still pumping through him, he tried like hell to ignore his aching balls—the urge to reach for her and drag her back—and focused on why she was freaking out. Something was seriously wrong. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she walked to the corner of her room and turned her back on him. Pulling off her shirt, she flung it aside then yanked open her dresser, grabbed a clean tee, and dragged it on. He opened his mouth to say goddamn something, but then she shoved down her skirt and fishnets—which sure as fuck didn’t help in his efforts to cool down, not when she was wearing a motherfucking G-string. Black lace flaring out above the creamy globes of her perfect round ass… Thankfully, she quickly tugged on a pair of jeans so he could damn well breathe again.

  He stood, wincing when his dick felt like it was going to snap the hell off, and planted his hands on his hips. “Fuckin’ talk to me, Darcey.”

  She spun to him then, eyes spitting fire. “Just because I let you stick your tongue down my throat doesn’t mean I owe you anything.” She dragged on some crazy-assed striped socks—the ones with toes—shoved her feet into her boots, not bothering to lace them, then dragged on her leather jacket.

  “Darcey?”

  She slung a bag over her head, grabbed her keys off the counter, and headed for the door. “Shut the door on your way out.”

  Then she was gone.

  He stared after her, then turned to the bed, where he’d had her a few minutes ago, and cursed. He wanted to follow her, find out what had her so rattled, but he knew that wouldn’t win him any points with her. She didn’t want him in her business. She’d made that much clear. That wasn’t going to change until he earned her trust.

  He fucking hated it. Hated that she was facing—whatever the fuck had her upset—on her own. The woman brought out every protective instinct in him, and not only did that confuse him, but it kinda scared him. Because he had the strongest urge to hunt down and destroy anyone that tried to mess with her.

  He wanted more than anything to be the man at her back, to be there for her like she’d been there for him.

  Shit.

  He took in her place and cursed again. He did not like her living here. The place wasn’t safe. The locks were flimsy as hell. She was on her own, going through some serious shit—shit that involved Ramirez. None of that was good. He wanted to fix it for her. All of it.

  But he didn’t have that right—not yet.

  ~ * ~

  Darcey clutched her keys and ran to her car, hands trembling so hard she’d almost dropped them twice.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  She�
��d given Noah a phone earlier in the year during one of their visits. They’d only ever used it once or twice, right after he got it, but then after a close call—Len nearly catching him with it—she’d come up with some rules. He had to keep it hidden and promise to use it only for emergencies. She knew for a fact he’d followed those rules, way too afraid Edith or Len would see it and get angry at Darcey. That they’d use it as another reason to keep them apart.

  She started her car and stared down at the short text again.

  I’m scared. Please come quick.

  Ice shot through her veins. Her heart was pounding now, making her dizzy, making her limbs weak. Planting her foot, she tore off down the street, making it across the city in nearly half the time it usually took.

  She slammed on the breaks, tires screeching, stopping right out front, and was out of the car and running to the front door before the Toyota finished rocking to a stop.

  Heart in her throat, she pounded on the door. Her fist was throbbing by the time it finally opened.

  But instead of Noah, Len opened the door. He didn’t say anything, just held the door wider and tilted his head for her to come in.

  Ignoring him, she strode inside. “Noah!” She ran up the stairs to his room, pushing the door open. “Noah…”

  Empty.

  She ran out, frantic.

  Len was standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for her.

  “Your brother’s not here.” He smiled. “It’s Friday. He’s at school.”

  Had he taken the phone to school with him? She needed to get to him. “I need to go.”

  Len grabbed her arm when she tried to walk by, made a tutting noise, and shook his head. “What has you so upset, Darce? Hmm?”

  She froze at the triumphant sound to his voice.

  He knew about the phone.

  The house was quiet like a goddamn tomb. “Where’s Edith?”

  “Out spending my money.”

  He slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out the phone she’d given Noah. “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”

  “It was my idea. Noah didn’t want it. He…”

  “Oh, I know this is all you. I can see he’s barely used it besides a few messages whining about missing his big sister.” The hand that held her arm tightened, the other rubbing over his mouth. His gaze dropped to her chest, and she shuddered. “He’s not he only one that’s missed you.”

  Len was a cretin. Had been looking at her in a way that made her uncomfortable since she was sixteen. But he’d never laid hands on her…never done anything more than look. She got the feeling that was about to change. He moved suddenly, his hand going to her jaw, the other to her belly, and he pushed her back until she hit the wall behind her.

  “Let me go.”

  He ignored her, smoothing a thumb over her cheek. “So like your mother. When I first saw her, I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.” He searched Darcey’s face. “You’re even more beautiful. Your eyes are just a bit darker, hair a touch shinier”—his gaze dropped again—“body a whole lot curvier.”

  She wanted to throw up. Hurl all over the bastard. “Back the fuck up, Len.”

  Again, he ignored her. “Edith was a mistake. I missed Rose so much… I was vulnerable. You know how well your mom looked after me, made sure I had everything I needed.” He scowled. “Edith, well, she’s a money-hungry bitch. So cold. Fucking her is like fucking a corpse. I’ve grown tired of her.”

  Darcey tried to wrench away. “Your fucked-up marriage has nothing to do with me…”

  “You want unlimited time with Noah?”

  She stilled. “What?”

  “You can spend all the time you want with that little shit… All you have to do is spend some time with me.” He pressed in closer. “I’ll make sure you enjoy every minute of it. I’ll give you money. No more living in that crappy apartment. A nice car. You can quit your shitty job.” He searched her face. “What do you say, Darcey? How about you and me have some fun? We both get what we want. Everyone’s happy.”

  For one utterly twisted, messed up second, she actually considered letting this revolting fucker put his hands on her so she could have Noah back. But she couldn’t do that to herself. She’d be no use to her brother by the time he’d finished with her. Allowing him to use her like that would break something irreparable inside her.

  “Get off me,” she said quietly.

  “I’ll give you time to think it over.” He smiled, oily as fuck, and took a step back. “Don’t make me wait long, though. I want an answer soon.”

  Her fingers curled into fists at her side. “I already have your answer.”

  His smile widened, white teeth flashing. “You’ll do it then?” The excitement in his voice made her skin crawl.

  She slid farther away so there was more distance between them, then she shook her head. “I’ll never be your whore, Len.”

  His nostrils flared, and he shoved a hand through his hair. He stared at her for the longest time, something terrifying moving behind his eyes, not saying a damned thing, then finally he said, “You want more? Fucking name your price? You want me to divorce Edith for you? I will. You prove your worth it, give me what I want, and I’ll do it. You can have all this.”

  Darcey lurched back. He’d lost his goddamn mind.

  She needed to get Noah away from this head case, as soon as possible. “No. You misunderstand me.” She wanted to tell him she’d rather die a slow, painful death than allow him to put his filthy hands on her, but she had to play this carefully. No matter how she worded her refusal, he’d be pissed. But throwing it back in his face the way she wanted to would only hurt Noah and would mean more time apart. She bit back the hatred that would color her voice if she wasn’t careful and tried for even, calm. “I’m…declining your offer.”

  “Declining?” He said it like he’d never heard the word before.

  She tried to move around him to get to the stairs. “I have to go.”

  “You think you’re too fucking good for me?” He grabbed her arm again.

  She yanked on it, trying to pull free. “Let’s just forget this happened, okay?”

  He hissed then tugged her forward so she slammed against his chest. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until I get what I want.”

  “That will never happen,” she fired back.

  Grip tightening hard enough to cause pain, he shook her, sucking in a rough breath through his nose.

  “Let me go…”

  “Say yes,” he shouted in her face.

  “No.”

  “Say it!” he roared.

  The front door banged shut downstairs. “Lenny!” Edith called.

  Len cursed under his breath, then shoved Darcey toward the back staircase that led to the kitchen and the back door. “Get the fuck out of here.” But she didn’t get far before he dragged her back one last time, pressing his mouth to her ear. “This isn’t over, you hear me?”

  Then he gave her another shove, hard enough she stumbled, almost fell on her ass, and headed downstairs.

  Chapter Seven

  Joe growled down at his phone.

  After Darcey walked out on him Friday morning, he’d reluctantly left her place, but not before he’d done some snooping. He should probably feel like a dick for doing it, but he couldn’t muster up any guilt. The woman needed help, whether she knew it or not.

  From what he could see she was alone, being blackmailed by Al, and going by her solo night out, not handling it very well.

  Unfortunately, he hadn’t found squat. Though, he had gotten her number off her phone bill—not that she’d answered any of his texts or calls.

  If she thought she could freeze him out, she was sadly mistaken.

  He’d given her Saturday and Sunday, and now he was done waiting.

  Shoving open his car door, he climbed out and stood on the sidewalk, looking up at her place. The lights were on.

  No more hiding in the shadows, baby.


  Jogging up the steps to her building, he gritted his teeth when he hit the intercom and nothing happened. The thing was completely dead. He tried the doors and they opened without resistance. Christ. The place had zero security. And his mood didn’t improve when he got to the elevator and the thing was still out of order. It’d been that way when he brought her home Thursday night, but he assumed it was down for routine maintenance. Now he could see the sign was faded and dusty.

  Several bulbs were out, as well, in the stairwell, another thing he’d noticed the other night. He couldn’t do much about the elevator or the main entrance, but he could at least try and find someone to take care of the fucking bulbs.

  By the time he reached her apartment, he was feeling wired and antsy as hell. He had the strongest urge to snatch her from this place and take her home, look after her and never let her out of his sight. That line of thinking was crazy. Shit, he barely knew her. But it was there, all the same, and he got the feeling that wouldn’t change any time soon.

  Frustration rode him. His hands were tied. He had no claim over Darcey, no right to protect her or get involved in her life. He’d never felt this way about a woman, and he had no clue what to do with these out-of-control feelings.

  And the icing on the shit cake…they were both tied to Al Ramirez. He didn’t know the guy that well, but it didn’t take a genius to work out he wouldn’t be all that happy about them spending time together.

  Christ, he should turn around and walk away. Focus on delivering the cars he owed and put it all behind him, put her behind him…