by Rie Warren
“That doesn’t feel like you’re washing me.” Her voice hitched. Her hips circled with my hand.
“I’m not fingering you.” I kissed her belly button. The undersides of her tits.
“Oh yeah?”
“This is fingering you.” With no warning, I spun three straight fingers into her.
I took her to a fast orgasm, my tongue lightly flicking her clit, until she slumped against me.
Cradling her in my arms, I shut off the shower and dried her with a big fluffy towel.
I was ridiculously hard all over again. By the time I rubbed a towel over my body, turned on was the understatement of the year.
Especially with Rayce openly staring.
“You keep looking at my cock like that, and it’s just gonna keep getting bigger.”
“I could take care of it for you.” She slinked forward, tossed my towel away, and rubbed her naked body all over me.
My eyes cranked shut, a groan tearing from the depths of my chest. “I need to make sure you have time for breakfast.”
“I’ll have something else for breakfast.” Slamming me against the wall, she winked before crawling between my thighs.
Her mouth slurpy and soft, she licked me like a kitten then sucked and lapped my balls.
“Full of hot creamy come for me again?” She pulled a testicle into her mouth, and the feeling was indescribable.
Hot.
Messy.
Sexy.
All I could do was nod.
She moved up my shaft to the crown and wasted no time lowering her mouth onto me. I clasped the sides of her face just to touch her as she blew my cock. I wanted to drill deeper down her throat but not this time. Most women couldn’t take much of my length. Wouldn’t last long anyway.
Rayce’s lips stretched wide. She stroked me with a tight-fisted hand. Every time she glugged up and off my hard, throbbing shaft, she tongued the frenulum, flicked my piercings.
Then she tucked those pretty lips around my cockhead, made obscene sloshing sounds, and pulled me deeper than before.
My thighs tensed. My ass flexed. I held her by the nape of her neck, gripped the base of my cock, and jerked the full load right into her waiting mouth.
She kneeled back and licked her lips, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “That’s better.”
Too bad I didn’t have a voice left to agree with her. I just dumbly nodded, propped against the wall.
****
After throwing on my clothes for the day, I returned to the kitchen and picked up where I left off. Fresh fruit, black coffee, scrambled eggs, toast.
Rayce came down and joined me at the stove. She’d gotten dressed in fresh clothes from her backpack, I assumed. Tight jeans, big boots, soft-looking sweater. And maybe she’d raked her hands through her still-damp hair. She’d put on light shiny lip-gloss and that was it. Completely natural and beautiful as ever.
I smiled.
“What?” Immediately suspicious, she scowled at me.
I couldn’t help but let loose a big hearty laugh. “I’m just thinking you’re as low maintenance as I am.”
“Low maintenance, huh?” She reached between my legs and palmed me in her hand.
What a fucking surprise. Insta-boner.
“Still need some more, baby? ’Cause that’s my specialty being a mechanic and all.” She found the bulging head no trouble at all and starting toying with my cock through my jeans. “Good with my hands.”
Groan.
Setting her away from me, I said, “Go eat your breakfast.”
“Bossy.”
“Yep.”
While we ate side by side at the counter, there wasn’t much talking done. We were both too busy packing in the food. Good fucking made for a big appetite.
When our plates were scraped clean, Rayce carried them to the dishwasher and popped them in. She rinsed her coffee mug and added that to the load too.
I sat, watching her, probably with an idiotic grin on my lips.
She looked perfect here. At home. She fit me.
“So when did the remodel happen?” she asked.
“Oh. Upstairs?” Getting up, I stretched my arms and popped my knuckles.
It was Rayce’s turn to watch, a little wide-eyed.
“Right after Christmas. Was trying to keep my mind off you.” I stared at the floor, shrugging my shoulders.
“How’d that work out for you?”
Lifting my gaze, I said, “Not a single damn bit. Can’t you tell?”
She hit me with a shy, pleased smile.
****
Swinging by Stone’s on my way to Chrome and Steele, I dropped my woman off at work. Hell, I wouldn’t mind playing chauffeur to her every single day of the week.
While we idled in the parking lot for a few minutes, I turned to face her. “I want you to move in with me, princess.”
Her mouth popped open—no doubt to protest—and I placed a fingertip against her lips.
“Hands off, if that’s what you want.” Yeah right. “Platonic, if that’s what it’ll take.” I caressed her cheek. “I just want you to be safe.”
She didn’t say anything, but started to exit the truck.
I jumped right out and held her hand as she stepped down.
Rayce looked at our linked fingers, which I brought to my chest.
“I can’t, Boomer.”
“Yes, you can. You should.”
Finally her gaze lifted to meet mine. Somber again. Not the sparkly feisty eyes of the freewheeling woman who’d spent the night in my bed and the morning in my arms.
“Don’t ask me for more than I can give,” she whispered.
My jaw ticked. My eyes narrowed. “Just so you know, we’re not done talking about this.”
She tugged my head down and pushed up to kiss me. Maddeningly soft and warm, she stroked my neck, my jaw, my chin as she pulled away.
That was when the grease monkey audience chimed in:
“Kiss the shit out of her!”
“Damn, chica. Get you some Steele.”
“That’s right. Show her who’s boss!”
“Fuck off!” Rayce unfurled her middle finger in the direction of her fellow mechanics who basically hung outside the garage bays like . . . monkeys. “I’m the boss.”
The guys whistled and clapped.
Rayce cupped my face. “Boomer Steele. You’re blushing?”
“Not likely,” I grumbled.
Her smile spread. “Oh my God. You are!”
“Nice try, princess.” I glared at her, but my eyes crinkled at the edges.
There was no way I could pull off stern when she got all flirty with me.
Grabbing her backpack, she sauntered away with a laugh.
“Hey!” I shouted after her. “That date thing? It’s happening. Tonight.”
“Okay.” She shook her hips.
Josh watched from the reception door, giving me a subtle go bro nod.
I left with an unstoppable grin after tossing his spare keys to him.
Chapter Fifteen
Wrench Wench
A DATE WITH RAYCE. Yessiree. I was on cloud nine all damn day. Nothing could get me down.
Nothing except Brodie, who just had to stick his big mouth in my business. Man, if he stilled lived at the house he’d be six feet under by now. As it was, I was ready to throttle him that afternoon when he let himself into my office—without knocking—and leaned against my desk with an evil look in his eyes. It was a miracle we hadn’t killed each other all those years we lived together after Cat got better and branched out on her own.
“What’s up with you?” He stared at me, trying to mimic Hunter’s mind-meld trick and failing. “You’ve been whistling and shit all day long.”
“Never mind that. Where you headed?” Deflect. Deflect. Deflect.
He had on his leather jacket, the key fob hanging off his fingertip adding to the gleam of the bulky, silver, knuckle-dusters that decorated his hands.
“School car
pool. My day to get Cara and her giggle-girls. Didn’t you see the mom-mobile out front?”
Come to think of it, I had noticed Ashe’s Volvo station wagon in the parking lot. “Oh yeah. Saw the car. Cute.”
“Cute? Since when do you say cute? You hit your head or something?” He peered at me more closely as if he could still pull off the mind reader trick.
Shrug.
“Oh shit. You got laid!” he hooted. Then the loud mouth asshole yanked open my door and shouted down the hallway, “Hey Lucy, Cat! Boomer finally got his shaft cranked.”
I stealth-moved toward him and smacked him upside the head.
“Ow.” He elbowed me in the ribs. “That hurt, ya fuck. Not my fault. You got that fresh fuck glow thing goin’ on,” he grumbled.
“Can dudes even get that?” I frowned, returning to my chair after I slammed the door.
He rubbed his goatee. “Dunno. How about you’ve looked like a grinning maniac all day? That suit you better, braw?”
Sounded about right.
“’Bout time you tapped Rayce.” He rapped his knuckles on my desk, rings and all.
“Say something like that about her again and I’m gonna tap you with my fist in your stomach.”
Cat shoved her head inside, her long black hair swinging. “He broke his celibate streak?”
Fuck my life.
“Damn right he did, sis.” Brodie winked.
She threw the door wide. “You hear that, Lucy? Boomer got his jock off!”
She and Brodie high-fived.
Did I say fuck my life yet?
Despite the duo of dipshits razzing on me, I couldn’t help but smile. I deserved some fucking happiness, too, right? Not that I begrudged them one little bit. Brodie settled down with the woman of his dreams, Cat happily married and knocked up . . .
Then Lucy entered the room.
And that was just triple fuck my life.
Brodie cut out amid their smack talk about my recent lack of love life to go pick up Cara, but that didn’t stop the women one little bit.
Shit. Put two chicks in a room and watch them tear it up. Cackles galore.
I did my best to pretend I wasn’t listening at fucking all—tapping away at my computer—until Cat leaned over in my face, grasping my chin.
“When are you seeing Rayce again?”
“Tonight. In a few hours.” Not a minute too soon either.
“What do you have planned for her?” Lucy tag-teamed me, perched on the edge of my desk, snapping fruity-smelling gum between her lips.
“Uh. Nothing really?”
“Boomer Steele! You need to learn how to woo a woman.” Cat started talking a mile a minute.
Lucy huddled beside her, sharing her so-not-helpful advice, and it was on days like this I wondered how the fuck this crew actually managed to get any work done, let alone run a successful business.
And I didn’t hate it at all.
****
I was sweating it inside, no thanks to Cat and Lucy shaking my shit down.
Women.
Had to love ’em.
So I’d made some damn plans. I’d hit the homestead for a quick splish-splash in the shower. Cologne. Clean duds. And I fed Shitlock the fatass.
It was well past sundown and cold as a witch’s tit when I pulled into the forecourt of Stone’s Garage. I’d decided to pick Rayce up at Stone’s instead of Daddy Dickhead’s trailer park-not-palace because I didn’t think I could control myself if I saw her father again.
Murder—not a good look for a prospective boyfriend.
Screw that.
Boyfriend.
Period.
Just because the sun had long since set didn’t mean the auto garage was closed. Drills hummed from inside, and I saw several cars getting lifted onto hydraulic jacks.
Per Stone’s, quitting time came whenever the last car was serviced and the final customer sent home with a smile.
That was an ideology I got behind one hundred percent.
Josh hung his head outside the door. “Lookin’ for your lady?”
I strolled up to the reception and wiped my boots before stepping inside. “Yeah, man.”
The door slid shut behind me, and I clasped Josh’s hand.
“Thought so. She’s been doing her hair in the bathroom for the last half hour.”
When I gaped at him he slammed a fist into my shoulder. “Just fuckin’ with ya. Probably trying to scrub the grease stains from her knuckles. I like that about her. Not prissy.”
An immediate squall started up, shattering the low-level atmosphere of the reception area.
Josh wore some sort of quilted papoose strapped to his chest with redheaded Jolie propped up in it. The back of the baby sling was detailed with a red and white Stone’s Garage personalized patch surrounded by tiny, colorful birds.
He rocked from foot to foot, prodding a pacifier between her lips. “Hey, now. No need to go off on me like that. Prissy’s just fine too, baby doll.”
Amazingly he had her hushed and dozing in the blink of an eye. Big, bad mechanic dad Josh Stone had the goddamn Midas touch with more than just cars it appeared.
“You got her here again?”
“Oh yeah. Leelee and I take turns a couple days a week. She’s been hanging with the kid today. One-on-one. Took him to Blackbeard’s Cove with my mom. Got him allll kinds of cranked up on soda, pizza, Go-carts, and arcade games.” He cupped the back of Jolie’s tiny head in his big hand. “Me and this one? Learning all about the drive shaft today.
“And when my ma takes them both? Even better one-on-one bonding time.”
I knew exactly the definition of that sort of bonding. I’d done it last night.
Speaking of . . .
“Yo! Wrench! Your man’s here.” Josh somehow yelled without raising his voice enough to wake the little lady.
Rayce’s man. I could get on board with that.
I must’ve been wearing that goofy grin again because Josh raised an eyebrow and said, “Happy looks good on you.”
“Ditto that.”
“Just give it a few years. You’ll have kids hangin’ off your legs too.” He patted Jolie’s snugged bottom, shhing to her in a low voice.
A door banged open from the interior of the garage, and Josh and I swung around in tandem.
“Ahhh. Here she is,” Josh said as Rayce strolled up to us. “The woman of the hour.”
Agreed.
She made no qualms about flipping Josh off with two middle fingers.
“Hey now. You know giving the bird to your boss might get you fired, right?”
“As if.” She lightly kissed Jolie’s plump cheek. “I’m the best and only wrench-wench you got. And I’m ten times better than the muscle-heads.”
“I hate it when you’re right,” he groused. Then he screwed his eyes shut, quickly unwrapped the papoose, and did the hand off to Ray I’d been privy to before. “She crapped. You get a bonus for changing her and getting her back to sleep.”
We left the building to the sight of Ray calculating his potential payout on the laptop.
I towed Rayce to my truck. She was wearing the same tight jeans, clingy sweater combo from this morning and she looked divine. Yeah, I said that. The tats, the nose ring, the sharp blue streaks in her so-soft black hair. Edgy. Divine. All mine.
“Hey, princess.” I caged her between my truck and me, running my fingers down her neck.
Her head tilted, the perfect angle for my fuck me, hello kiss. Her lips tasted just as good, felt sweeter than ever. And her tongue? Bet the woman could tie two knots in a cherry stem with it because she tied me in knots as she wildly delved into my mouth.
The long loud whistles from the knuckle draggers were the only things that dragged me away from her long intoxicating kiss.
They banged on the half-shut garage doors, aping around:
“Make sure you get her home on time!”
“Remember she has a curfew.”
“We’ll be waitin
g up, jefe!”
“Not a single fuck given to y’all!” Rayce gave as good as she got, clutching my ass in one hand.
The guys quieted but still stared.
“Well, that worked, Phoebe.”
Her eyes pinpointed me. “Don’t be so sure. And why do you keep calling me that?”
“Because underneath your smartass mouth and your lone woman shield is a gorgeous girl worthy of a pin-up name like Phoebe. But I like Rayce just as much.”
“Hmmph.” She ducked beneath my arms. “Pin-up? Shoulda known. Only old men say shit like that.”
“Old man? Not what you were saying last night.” I thrust my hand quickly between her thighs, and her eyes rolled back as I caressed her clit through her jeans. “Or this morning.”
“Jesus!” She grabbed my wrist. “Don’t make me come right here.”
My lips skated up her neck, and I ran my hands up to her waist. “Later then.”
She fell back against the TopKick, her legs shaky, her breathing ragged. “Uhm. What’s the plan tonight?”
See? A plan? Always trust the chicks.
“So, I noticed you like to eat. Like a lot.” I hit the key fob and unlocked the doors to the pickup.
Meanwhile Rayce drew up to her full height, which was nothing on my six-foot-five.
“Boomer Steele. That is not the type of thing you’re supposed to say to a woman you’re wooing.”
Plan backfired already? What the hell? I helped her into the truck and took my place behind the wheel.
“Since when do you say wooing?” Christ. I felt like I was back in the office with Cat playing word games.
Way more fun with Rayce.
“And, for the record, you’re not just any ordinary woman.” Hauling her to me across the seat, I teased my lips against hers, traced my tongue across her mouth.
Almost kissing her, I grabbed her ass. “I like your appetite. In all things. Not an insult. It’s a compliment.”
Then I kissed her dizzy. Made out with her until she forgot to fight against me.
****
The Tattooed Moose was no more than a loud, crowded wood shack with a tiny front porch just on the wrong side of the tracks in downtown Chucktown.
Romance?
Maybe not. But the food was un-freakin’-believable.
