Soft Sounds of Pleasure

by Eden Connor

  She needed a sale. She had a house payment coming due, and she should never have bought the damn sunglasses perched on her nose. Before she had decided which dealer to visit first, her old truck made a hideous, grinding screech. The wheel in her hand shuddered so badly she pulled into an empty driveway, barely maneuvering off the road before the truck stopped moving in response to her foot on the gas.

  She felt like banging her head against the steering wheel but feared the truck was in such bad shape it might just snap off. Looking around the blighted neighborhood, her eyes lit on a house whose sagging porch was lined with pots of with bright red geraniums. In this area, since all the cotton mills had closed down, flowers were in short supply. Hopefully, there was an old lady tending these, who'd be home on a weekday morning.

  Now who looks like the meth addict, Lila thought ruefully as she reached to take the phone book the elderly lady handed her with hands trembling from stress. Her hunch had been right, netting her access to a phone in relative safety, but now she had to call De Marco's.

  Lila despaired as she dragged the resisting rotary dial of the heavy black phone around in recalcitrant circles, waiting impatiently for the dial to return to its home position. She had time to glance curiously around the kitchen at the worn red and gray linoleum tiles beneath her feet and the faded Formica countertops edged with strips of chrome as she listened to the peculiar 'burring' sound of the phone and the droning of the television in the background. Plastic daisies in a narrow green vase shook in their precarious perch on the rounded top of the refrigerator as a whistling train flew down the tracks a few miles away.

  Worse than the conflict she felt at needing to call De Marco's Garage was the knowledge she didn't have the money to fix her truck and still make her house payment, if it was much of a repair. Thrilled when Daniel answered instead of Colton, she explained her problem, gave him her location, and accepted a glass of tea while she waited, chatting idly with her Good Samaritan while blindly watching The Price Is Right and trying to figure a way out of her predicament.

  She stopped feeling sorry for herself in favor of looking around at the furniture, knowing she still had four twenties in her back pocket. Best thing then, was to try and spend them wisely.

  * * * *

  Colton dropped the hood on the Celica he'd just finished and began to fill out the repair ticket, glancing up when Dan strode over.

  "Done with that?" Dan asked abruptly, eyeing Colton. When he'd realized it was Lila on the phone, he decided to play a hunch. He and Eric both agreed Colton had something going on he didn't want them to know about, and based on Colton's face and actions after that baseball coach had said something about Lila Walker, Daniel was thinking he'd been wrong to dismiss the suspicion Colton and Lila might be knocking boots. Eric had bet him two hundred dollars, taking any woman but her, yet agreeing Colton had a woman on his mind.

  "All done," Colton said, head bent to the clipboard in his hand. "What's the next emergency?"

  Dan shoved a piece of paper at him and studied his baby brother as Colton automatically translated his hieroglyphics into meaningful information. His head snapped up. "What in the hell is she doing on Haynes Street?" he demanded. "That neighborhood's not safe for a damn dog, much less her."

  Daniel returned his youngest brother's fierce gaze placidly. "So, when Scott gets back with her truck, you got time to take a look at it?"

  "That's not proof." Eric shook his head in denial when Daniel held out his hand after Colton snagged the wrecker keys and stormed out without another word, nearly burning rubber in his hurry to get the wrecker out of the parking lot.

  Daniel shrugged casually. "Okay, my money can sit in your pocket a while," he said. "But think on this while you hold it for me. When's the last time you cared where a car broke down, if your ass wasn't in it?"

  Eric blinked twice, and reached for his wallet, counting the money into Daniel's palm. "Why her?" Eric wondered aloud. "She's old. She must be like, fifteen years older than him, isn't she?"

  "About my age, maybe," Daniel guessed, driving his fist into Eric's shoulder. He was thirty-seven to Eric's thirty-three. "Not that damn old."

  * * * *

  Colton reminded himself to hold his tongue when he spied Lila's dirty red and silver truck. He had no right to complain about where she went, but when he found she wasn't locked in her vehicle, he began to panic. She couldn't be far, because there was furniture in the back and in this neighborhood, he figured nothing of any value would last long unattended. He'd broken every speed limit coming here. He raised the hood and saw at a glance what the truck's immediate problem was. Wondering whether he needed to call the cops as he dropped her hood with a loud bang, he looked around the shabby neighborhood, praying for a glimpse of her.

  The screech of a rusty hinge made him whirl around, and he heard her voice before she stepped out of a wretched house which was peeling so badly it was nearly devoid of paint. He bounded across the empty lane, intending to help her descend the rickety steps, since she held what looked like a box on legs and the rotten handrail had fallen into unkempt shrubs that were all that appeared to be holding the house upright. On the drooping porch behind her, an old woman tucked something that looked a lot like cash into the bosom of her housecoat.

  The hold on his temper threatened to fail. She was running around in this neighborhood handing out cash? What a great way to get killed. He ground his teeth as he reached her, holding out his hand.

  "I have it," Lila assured him, twisting away as if she thought he wanted the small piece of furniture. He gripped her elbow as she skipped down the steps, nodding politely to the old woman on the porch as Lila said her good-byes, but his temper was as ragged as the woman's cotton shift.

  She tugged away from his grasp as soon as her feet hit the cracked sidewalk. "Do you mind awfully if we stop at one little place on the way back to the garage?"

  "Fine," he said shortly, trying to breathe through his fear and outrage that she'd take risks like this. The truck was the only vehicle he'd seen at her house. She probably needed something from the store.

  "It's not exactly on the way," she said worriedly. "But if I talk sweet enough, I won't have to cry when I hear what this repair is going to cost."

  Concern at her comment began to overwhelm his anger. Lila had money problems? He'd assumed an insurance agent like Pete would've left a big policy. He chewed on that information as he dropped to the ground, reaching under her truck to hook the winch to the axle.

  Twenty minutes later, he stood on the sidewalk in front of a junk shop every bit as dilapidated as the neighborhood he'd just rescued her from. The rundown building was several miles in the wrong direction, but the errand seemed important to her. When he heard the price she quoted for that leggy wooden box to the eager-eyed white-haired shop owner, whom she had introduced as Jimmy, he'd almost forgotten how pissed off he was. Almost. The old guy had asked if there was anything else in the back of her truck. Colton lowered the winch without being asked, watching as the cardigan-clad man and Lila went through their negotiations. The bite of jealousy he felt when Jimmy got the smile she hadn't offered him only made him angrier, even though he knew it was just part of her pitch. When her arms flew around Jimmy's stooped shoulders after the old guy emptied his thick wallet into her trembling outstretched hand, Colton figured she was thrilled by the fast profit she'd turned.

  All he could think about was how she had risked her life for less than the cost of a new transmission.

  The crease between her brows was gone when she climbed into the wrecker, and she finally flashed him the sunny smile he loved, but Colton didn't feel like smiling back. It was going to take a while before his brain stopped telling him she could have been murdered. For once, he didn't have to adjust his pants in her presence.

  * * * *

  Lila could see the tension in Colton's handsome face. His jaw was set and pretty much had been since he'd tried to take the Regency sewing box from her on the sidewalk outside
the house where she'd used the phone. Though he'd agreed to double back to Jimmy's shop, he wasn't happy about something, based on the snarl of his brows. "Look, I'm sorry about the extra mileage, Colton. But Jimmy doesn't drive or own a car. I know it's above and beyond, and I really appreciate this."

  He gave her a hard look as they rolled up to a light. "That's not the problem. That part of town, Lila, where I picked you up. It's Crack Central, everyone who lives there is drugged out or desperate. What the hell were you doing there?"

  Stung by his tone and annoyed by his answer, Lila snapped back. "Shopping? Working? Take your pick." She hadn't been in the projects, after all. The street wasn't one she'd like to live on, but why did he care? He was about the last person she wanted to see, and she sure didn't answer to him. The thrill of her find and the pleasure from her fast profit faded. They drove in silence. As she watched him out of the corner of her eye, a different sort of thrill took over.

  The thrill of remembering how good sex had been with Colton. The thrill of remembering how it'd felt to tame the monster, until she'd remembered Pete. But Pete wasn't here, was he? Pete had been more reserved, sexually speaking. He'd never have agreed to have sex on the deck. He'd have been too worried about the neighbors.

  Lila wasn't worried about her neighbors, not that they could have seen a thing. Those were the same neighbors who had known how afraid she was to leave Pete home alone after his seizures began, and had still driven right past her house on their way to the grocery store, not a single one stopping to ask if she needed bread or milk.

  So why had she been avoiding Colton? He'd called and she had simply stared at the caller ID without picking up.

  "You don't lock your doors, either."

  "What?" Lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't heard him. Big raindrops began to hit the windshield of the wrecker, beating a louder tattoo than her heart.

  "The day we went to lunch, you left your doors unlocked. Today, you go to the worst part of town carrying cash, and you're damn lucky you didn't get beaten up and robbed. Or worse." He raised his voice to be heard over the loud cracks made by the fat drops on the windshield and the deep roll of thunder from the sudden spring storm.

  She simply stared out the windshield, aware they were only a few miles from her house now, but cringing every time the brake lights flared on the car in front of them. Nothing he'd said required a response. She wanted him to concentrate on driving. Being in a moving vehicle in this kind of rain scared her to death. How he could see a thing was beyond her. She darted a glance at him again, horrified to see he had his wrist draped casually over the top of the wheel, his other hand clenched into a fist on his thigh.

  "If you're so worried about my well-being, do you mind using both hands to drive?" she croaked, panic setting in as the rain roiled against the windshield in a pearly curtain of angry froth, seemingly just a bit more than the wipers could handle.

  He turned his head slowly, eyebrows raised in disbelief. He glared at her so long she begged, "Colton, watch the road, please."

  He rolled his eyes and grinned at her, but mercifully he turned his attention back to the road. As he pushed the wrecker through the storm at a speed she felt dangerous, she bit her lip to stay silent, but her terror intensified along with the storm. Pete had done this too, rushing through rainstorms like they were fucking liquid sunshine. She ground her teeth and gripped the padded arm rest tightly.

  This was why she hadn't answered the phone. She absolutely did not want another man, she decided. Once they got in your pants, they thought they could tell you what to do. They laughed about the things that scared you. He probably had dirty laundry piled up too, waiting for some idiot like her to offer to wash them in return for some good, hard attention from the monster.

  As he turned onto her street, she pried the truck key off her key ring, dropping in onto the seat between them. The sun popped out from behind the curtain of gray. Her wild cherry trees looked as if they were dripping in diamonds, and the baking heat releasing from the concrete teased tendrils of steam off her drive as her feet connected with solid ground. "Just get it running, and I'll have someone give me a ride to pick it up when it's ready. Add whatever you need to for the side trip, and thanks for the rescue." She heaved the heavy wrecker door closed and strode toward the back of the house. Damned if she'd go inside through the unlocked walk-through door to the garage and give him another thing to act superior about.

  Chapter Eight

  He caught her before she got her hand around the back doorknob. Before she could blink, he spun her around and jerked her against him, clamping one arm around her waist. He buried the other beneath the loose French braid she had her hair twisted into, forcing her head back.

  She opened her mouth to protest and he claimed her lips with authority. She didn't have time figure out why it seemed less of a betrayal to suck his cock than it did to kiss him, but the demanding pressure of his tongue against hers soon made her forget she'd not kissed a man other than Pete since the first Gulf War had broken out. When he finally raised his head, his eyes glittered with lust and anger.

  "You feel how hard you make me, Lila?" he demanded.

  She could only nod. She felt it all right. Too bad he'd kissed her stupid so she couldn't talk.

  "You've been doing that to me for years, not just days. I care what happens to you. I just lost my sister to some thug who valued her Escalade more than her life. I get that you're afraid of this thing between us. What I don't get is why you won't kiss me."

  He took her lips again, but this time his kiss was gentler, a proper first kiss, an exploration and a seduction. She lost herself in learning the unfamiliar stroke of his tongue against hers as her nipples tightened and most of the blood in her body rushed to surround her screaming clit as she shamelessly ground it against the monster. His hands curved around her ass, pulling her into him. By the time he raised his head again she was tugging at the button on his jeans.

  "Right here?" he asked, his fingers moving to her zipper.

  "Right here," she panted. "I want you to bend me over this rail and fuck me."

  She lowered his zipper and reached into his pants, easing his engorged length out through the slit in the front of his boxers. His cock was flushed with life, and the large vein running along the underside throbbed against her thumb. For a minute, she simply enjoyed stroking the silky skin and feeling the heat of him, but a searing flash of need made her let go and jerk her t-shirt over her head, using it to sluice off the rainwater pooled on the porch railing. The folded square of cash in the back pocket of her shorts made a reassuring 'thump' on the wet decking as she dropped them. She spun around, presenting her silken ass to him while he quickly and efficiently unhooked her bra. There was something about the air after a thunderstorm, she thought, inhaling deeply as desire climbed inside her, sizzling around her clit. Grasping the damp railing, she ground her ass eagerly against him.

  The thin straps of her bra whispered down her arms. His hands were warm as he cupped her breasts from behind, weighing them in his palms while his fingers began a rhythmic pinching of her nipples that had her juices dripping like her cherry trees. His lips traced a hot trail up her neck, sending shivers spattering down her spine. A cool breeze blew up from the pond, slithering sensuously between her thighs and across her wet folds, making his cock feel like a brand against her skin. The wind flirted with the hot tips he was torturing and whipped chilled raindrops off the glossy olive leaves of the camellia bushes surrounding her deck, driving them onto her breasts.

  "Fuck me," she begged, and she wanted to protest the loss of his hands, but she already recognized the ripping sound of the condom wrapper, and grimaced. Then he was sliding into her, and he replaced his hands on her aching breasts, sweetly tormenting her nipples as she pressed back against him, helping him seat his length inside her as deep as it could go. She arched her back, hearing his groan of satisfaction as her movement allowed him to go deeper inside her, and for long minutes, the only sounds
were the slap of his thighs against hers and the shocked song of the scarlet-clad cardinals flashing past, and her cry of pleasure every time his cock raked her sweet spot.

  He let go her breasts and she felt him grip her hips and knew he was ready to get serious about coming. Dropping one hand between her thighs, she began to rub her clit, surprised when he pushed her hand away.

  "My job," he demanded.

  The simple act of being touched by a hand not her own after the long years of self-service drove her desire as high as the crystal-blue Carolina sky above them, and she came, crying out his name.

  Moving his hands back to her hips, he dragged her contracting channel back and forth onto his cock with powerful strokes. Her juices escaped down her thighs, chilled by the tempestuous spring breeze.

  "Jesus, Lila," he groaned, and he slipped his arms around her, pulling her upright against his chest as she felt his cock jerk deep inside her, and she regretted what he had shielded her from every bit as much as she gloried in what she'd been given as he began to come.

  He eased out of her and turned her around. Satisfaction reigned in his expression, and her soul thrilled to the way he put his arms around her and held her tight as she slowly fell back to Earth.

  "It scares you to drive in rain like that?" he asked, his tone softer now, as he nuzzled her jawbone.

  "Everybody just rushes on as if they can see just as well as they do in sunshine. It scares me. No one's ever expecting bad things to happen to them."

  He stopped kissing her and hooked his knuckle under her chin, making her look up at him. "Thank you for making my point."

  Okay, she had walked right into that one, and she smiled her surrender. He seemed to accept her concerns. She had to admit, she could see his point now. That neighborhood was bad. She might not have gone door-to-door looking for bargains if she hadn't been worried about making her house payment. "Touché."