Roadside Assistance

by Marie Harte

  “That’s pretty much what happened to Foley back in the sixth grade. And here we are.”

  Lou groaned again, and Sam actually laughed.

  But inside he wondered if this would be the start of something new. Of nights spent away from his home and those he considered family. They’d move on and leave him behind, finally understanding he’d never be more than he was. A man hiding a dirty little boy inside, one who’d never be clean.

  Chapter 17

  Dinner went off without a hitch. Foley ate to his heart’s content, and Cyn was thrilled that she’d gotten to the man through his stomach after all.

  They finished, and he demanded she let him clean up. After taking the cheesecake out of the oven and letting it sit, she turned off the oven, took her refilled wine into the living room, and messed with his music.

  “I’m not asking for permission to touch your precious stereo,” she called out as she fiddled with knobs. A test to see how far she could push her manly boyfriend.

  “I can see that,” he growled back. “If you don’t like the presets, check out my phone. I have some channels you might like better.”

  He passed. No problem giving up control to his stereo. Interesting. She looked around. “Where’s your phone?”

  “Hell. I don’t know.”

  That man and his phone. She found it a few minutes later in his jacket pocket—in the closet. She turned it on, sadly not surprised to see he had no password to protect his information, and selected a familiar music application. Then she chose a station she liked to listen to, a combination of old blues and jazz. One of her favorite Billie Holiday tunes piped through his Bluetooth speakers, and she closed her eyes, enchanted with the husky tones.

  “May I?” Foley asked from right beside her. He took her glass and placed it on the table. Then he took her in his arms and swayed to the music, dancing with her.

  So slow, they moved together as one, leaning into each other, learning each other. She couldn’t look away from his soft gray gaze, spellbound. “You’re really good at this.”

  He smiled and asked softly, “At what?”

  At making me feel special. “At romance.”

  “Is that what this is?”

  She nodded and rested her head on his chest, totally falling for the big lug.

  “Hmm. Guess I like it too. Romance. Who’d have thought?” He chuckled, and she felt his joy reverberate through her.

  They danced together through several songs, until, as if by unspoken agreement, they decided to stop. She looked up into Foley’s pale eyes, now hooded and hungry with the same need she felt inside.

  “I’m going to kiss you.” He cupped her cheeks. “Kiss me back, baby.”

  She closed her eyes as he neared, and his kiss took her breath away. It was the same enthralling connection she always shared with him, but tonight it felt like much more. She put her hands on his hips, holding him there, and he continued to caress her cheeks. They didn’t press together, didn’t mash in a violent frenzy of desire, one she felt all the same.

  Instead, Foley seemed to hold back, kissing her as if afraid to let her go. He was so careful, so gentle, yet his kiss packed a punch that made her dizzy.

  She clutched his hips, holding tight and wanting him more than she’d ever wanted anything. She pulled back and licked her lips. “Make love to me, Foley.”

  He didn’t smile or make light of the moment. “Yes.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her with him down to his bedroom.

  Once inside, he closed the door. Before she could take off her clothes, he stopped her. “No. Let me.”

  He took his time feeling her first, running his hands over her body, touching her with care and a sensual lightness that made it difficult to hold still. What made it more erotic was that he stared at her face all the while, watching her take her pleasure. Then he knelt and hugged her, his head to her belly. Tears came to her eyes. Foley was treasuring her, making her feel precious.

  She wanted to make this so good for him, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead he pushed up her dress, exposing her thigh-high stockings and heels, as well as the sexy lace panties she’d worn just for him.

  He looked up from her underwear, his face now showing strain. “Don’t tell me. The bra matches?”

  She smiled. “Would you like to see?”

  “Take it off. Slowly.” He moved to his feet and stepped back, ripping off his sweater and T-shirt in the process.

  She removed her dress with care, taking it by the hem and lifting it over her head. She tossed it to the floor, hoping he liked the matching bra and panty set, as well as the pretty stockings and sexy black pumps.

  “You are just…amazing.” He stepped forward and cupped her silk-clad breasts. “So fucking gorgeous. So fucking mine.”

  He stepped closer and pressed his chest against hers.

  She drew in a breath, her nipples hard, sparks of need flaring where they poked through her bra and brushed against his hot body.

  Then he guided her until the backs of her knees hit the bed. “Sit.”

  She sat and watched him unbutton his jeans. So sensual. She was caught in his web. Ensnared by not only her lust, but his as well. He toed off his shoes, then removed the rest of his clothes. Standing naked and proud before her, he looked like an ancient warrior come to life.

  “Here.” He handed her something.

  She took it. “A condom?”

  “I didn’t want to forget this time.” He ran his fingers over her hair, and she was all too aware of how easy it would be to lean forward and taste him. “Put it on me, Cyn.”

  She was in her bra and panties, her hose and heels. He wore nothing at all. The mood felt heavy, sensual. She could still hear blues from the living room. The whole evening was surreal.

  And she never wanted it to end.

  “Come on, baby. Put it on me.” He closed his hand around hers, which held the condom.

  “Okay. But first…” She moved to the floor and knelt, staring up at him, watching his expression as she neared his arousal. His breath quickened, his belly contracted, and his jaw clenched. She opened her mouth, and he groaned.

  Then she put her mouth over him, tasting his slick passion and wanting him to feel as needy as she did. As caught up in their moment.

  She showed him more than desire, but how she truly felt, expressing her deepening feeling, sharing her trust. She took him deeper between her lips, still watching him while she caressed him. With hands and tongue and a gentle scrape of her teeth.

  “Jesus. Cyn, baby.” He moaned and put his hands on her head. “I can’t… Oh fuck. Yeah.”

  She bobbed over him, no longer looking at him but closing her eyes and tasting him. She felt his tension, his thick, muscular thighs bunched in anticipation. Tasted the essence of his need and knew it wouldn’t be long. Then he stopped her, trembling, his hand on her shoulder.

  “Not yet, Cyn,” he rasped. “Put it on me.” He nudged her hand, still gripping the condom. “Please.”

  How he had the wherewithal to deny himself was beyond her. She’d been caught up in the moment, ready to swallow the whole of him, taking him deep within her. But she did as he asked, tearing open the packet and rolling his protection down the steely length of him.

  Once covered, he dragged her to her feet and took off her bra and panties with methodical attention to detail. No stray touching, just a clean removal of her clothing, though he left her hose and heels on.

  He eased her back on the bed. Everything about their time together was unhurried, savored. And she knew they’d turned some point in their relationship. Something she couldn’t put her finger on, but the look in his eyes was just…more.

  He climbed on top of her, the pressure of his body a comfort and an allure. She traced those inked muscles with her fingers, lightly clawing him with her nails.

  “Yeah.
That’s it. Rake them over me,” he said in a husky voice. Then he kissed her, and the need grew.

  He touched her, so lightly she was sure she’d imagined it. Foley explored her, caressing and petting her as if afraid to be too rough. The gentle press of his thumb over her sex almost had her up in flames.

  She arched up, shifting and widening her legs. Needing him inside her.

  But Foley continued his sensual torture, until she was mindless with desire.

  He must have been as lost, because he moved with more insistence. He finally pushed inside her, not stopping until he’d buried himself as deep as he could go.

  When he stilled, she opened eyes she hadn’t been aware of closing.

  Foley held her hands on either side of her head, their fingers entwined as tightly as their bodies. “Watch me.”

  He slid out of her until only the tip of him remained, and then he pushed back inside. With each push, he ground against her sensitive flesh, kissed her lips, rubbed her nipples against his hard chest—he drove her insane with need.

  She clutched his hands and let him drive the pace until both of them reached for the completion they could only get with each other.

  Foley chanted her name as he took her, and she responded in kind, needing all of him. The bed made its own music as it rocked against the wall, the low crooning of lovers and low bass coming from the hallway. He tasted like beer, like sex, and like Foley. Her man.

  He pushed harder, and she couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “Foley, I’m coming.”

  “Take me, Cyn. Take me now.” He slammed home once more, and she cried out and seized around him.

  He didn’t move except to jerk his hips, grinding into her as much as was humanly possible.

  She hadn’t realized she’d slipped her ankles behind his back, her heels interlocked, and she rubbed her thighs against his sides, sliding the silk of her hose over his hard muscle.

  “God, Cyn.” Foley kissed her between breaths. “What you do to me.”

  She returned the kiss, in wholehearted agreement. In love—and not sure what to do about it.

  He deepened the kiss, and she lost herself in his affection and his touch, going along with the wave until it took her under, and she could think no more.

  * * *

  The next morning proved a serious turning point in their relationship. Foley watched Cyn blush under his study. She looked great even with bed head. Not that he could tell, but she insisted she had a flattened left side to her hair.

  She’d spent the night. The entire night. They’d made love several times, and he’d lit candles during her stay. Talk about romance. The music, the dance, the kissing, and loving. And the candles.

  He’d never, ever, made love to a woman, giving her everything he had inside him like that. Cyn had blown his mind. Not literally, but then, last night hadn’t been the time for that. No dirty talk or fucking. They’d made love, laughed, talked, and made love again. She was so soft, yet a woman he didn’t fear crushing with his strength. And so damn lovely in candlelight. The shadows played over her skin, drawing attention to the creamy gold of her breasts and the burning depths of her gaze.

  Clad in her stockings and heels, she’d been the epitome of his own private pinup girl. His own wet dream come to life. But even better, she was real. A flesh-and-blood lover who made him feel—emotional, carnal, loving feelings that turned him warm all over, inside and out.

  And she’d spent the night. He’d been able to hug her close, smelling and touching her all night long. God, she smelled good. Some blend of citrusy perfume and Cyn that went straight to his head.

  His only regret was that he hadn’t woken earlier for one last lovemaking session before seeing her off to work. She also refused to let him make her breakfast. Sometime during the night he’d put away the rest of the leftover food. She even turned down a slice of morning cheesecake.

  “It’s for you and Sam. Not for me.” She relented to give him a last kiss, tasting minty fresh. She really had a thing against morning breath, he thought with a grin. Not that he could blame her. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Damn. Me too, sweetheart.” He saw her blush and sighed. “Come here. One more.”

  She walked into his arms, and he closed them around her, not wanting their time to end.

  Reality was such a bitch.

  “So about the New Year’s Eve party on Thursday. Can you come? It’ll be me and the guys at a friend’s house. Joaquin throws a huge bash.”

  “Joaquin?”

  “A motorhead with bucks who has a lot of friends. It’s pretty casual. Think grunge with money, so great drinks, probably designer drugs for those who use them, and a ton of jeans and anarchy T-shirts.”

  “Sounds interesting. You want to go?”

  “It’s a really fun time. I can introduce you to some more of my friends.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Okay. I’m in. Besides, you’ll be saving me from my mother and possible matchmaking.”

  “I really need to talk to her about that.”

  “Later.” She kissed him once more. “Now I need to get back and shower. I can’t wear this dress to work. Nina will make fun of me.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.” He walked her to the door after pulling on a pair of drawstring pants, just in case Sam popped in.

  She turned to leave and stopped at the door. “I don’t have plans for dinner tonight. You’ll probably be busy with Sam and the guys, but if you’re not—”

  “No. No plans. Your place?”

  “Yeah. Just bring yourself. I’m thinking fish tonight.”

  “Awesome. I love fish.” No matter what she made, he’d love it.

  “Okay. Bye, Foley.” She left, and his house seemed darker because of it.

  He had a few hours before he had to be at work. He thought about catching some more sleep, but when he entered his bedroom, he couldn’t see sleeping there without Cyn.

  “Damn.” As he’d feared, she was in his blood now. No way to get her out without removing his own heart.

  He showered and dressed, made the bed, and cleaned up with no small sense of pride. He’d worked through quite a few condoms last night. Time to get more. And time to get a health check. He’d felt the magic of being skin to skin inside her. But coming inside her would be the ultimate connection.

  To his shock, he started to grow hard again. He should have been too tired for another go-round after so much action last night. Foley forced himself to relax and had finished breakfast when Sam pulled up in his loud car.

  Sam entered with caution, glancing around. “Ah, is it safe to come in?”

  “She went home.”

  Sam tossed a bag on the floor and entered the kitchen, where he found Foley staring at an uneaten cheesecake. “She made it then?”

  Foley sighed. “Yeah. If it’s anything like the lasagna, it’s going to be amazing.”

  “Lasagna?” Sam grabbed two plates and forks, since Foley already had a knife.

  Foley cut him a large slice, but his own appetite had left with Cyn.

  “You’re not having any?” Sam asked.

  “Nah. I’m still full from last night.”

  “I’ll bet you are.” Sam shot him a look, and Foley grinned.

  “She made plenty so you’d have some too.” Cyn. So thoughtful. So pretty and caring and fuck-it-all sexy, kind, intelligent—

  “Holy shit. This is good.” Sam devoured his slice and cut another. “You said she made extra lasagna too?”

  “For breakfast?”

  “Why not?”

  Foley got out the pan and heated him up a few pieces. For himself, he poured more coffee and tried to stop feeling lovesick. Because yeah, that’s what he was. Love. Sick.

  “Okay, I admit, the woman is a goddess. This is outstanding. Just…” Sam attacked h
is plate with gusto. “So we doing Ray’s tonight? Lara’s working, so it’s Johnny and Lou and you and me.”

  “Oh, I can’t. I’m eating at Cyn’s.”

  Sam paused. “Her place this time?”

  “I don’t know if I’m staying over or anything. We’re just doing dinner.” Foley couldn’t wait. He decided to bring her flowers. She’d like them. Maybe roses? Or was that too clichéd?

  “Huh. Okay. But you’re missing out on darts.”

  “I’ll catch up next time. Whatever you do, if you play singles, make Johnny go first. He cares more about screwing with Lou than you.”

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  Foley shrugged. Time to get going and get to work. “I’ll take my car today. I’ll be heading to Cyn’s after work.”

  “No problem.”

  Foley worked his ass off. Del hadn’t been kidding. They’d been mobbed by breakdowns, frozen engines, and water pumps lately. He joked with the guys as he worked, taking their teasing about Cyn in stride.

  That evening, as soon as he could, he arrived at her house, bearing a bouquet of flowers. His woman turned all soft and girly when she took them. He also earned one hell of a kiss for his thoughtfulness.

  The meal was delicious, as he’d expected. And the conversation made them laugh. Stories about Sam and Matt growing up had them howling at their antics. He never would have guessed Cyn had annoyed her brother to tears so often. Hell. He felt for the guy. Hard thing to not be able to bring wrath down on a redheaded cherub like Cyn.

  To his surprise, they ended the evening with some heavy kissing but nothing more. The break from sex felt…good. The closeness between them deepened.

  The next day at work, New Year’s Eve, he rode with Sam, and his friend seemed oddly quiet. They continued to work through the mounting breakdowns, with even Liam pitching in. Five mechanics, Del and Dale working overtime.

  They’d found a rhythm, and the day flew by.

  Foley searched for a socket and said to Lou, “Yeah, so I’m bringing Cyn to Joaquin’s tonight. That a problem?” Joaquin was one of Lou’s clients, though he’d turned into a friend to them all. As he’d told Cyn, Joaquin was a gearhead who loved cars as much as he loved women and booze. Foley’s kind of guy. He had a habit of smoking a little too much weed, but since the guy didn’t hit any of the harder stuff, Foley didn’t much care.