by Jayne Rylon
Dedication
For everyone who contributed to bringing the Hot Rods to life in the amazing artwork on the covers of these books.
Of course to cover artist superhero Angie Waters, as always, for your vision and Photoshop skillz.
To Dawn Martin for going out of your way to procure the images I fell in love with.
For my editor, Amy Sherwood, who didn’t kill me when I sent in a twenty-one page cover art request form.
And to Sophia Renee (plus her sexy models!) of Unique Portrait Services—last but definitely not least—for taking the pictures that sparked my imagination.
Thank you all as well as any others that had a hand in the process behind the scenes!
Chapter One
“What’s it like to have sex with five guys at once?” Salome Rider couldn’t believe the question had finally popped out. Her curiosity had overridden politeness. Then again, it was after sunrise and she’d been awake for twenty-four painful hours straight. Not that she’d have been able to sleep after the horror she’d witnessed.
The miles had droned on for the span of three different states, through which she’d forced a break from the men and place she loved so dearly. Staying had seemed impossible once she’d realized her Hot Rods didn’t return the sentiment.
Fleeing also triggered flashbacks of the last time she’d abandoned her home, when she was fifteen and escaped from the religious zealots who’d raised her. Who could have guessed she’d find sanctuary with a motley gang of mechanics? Truly, back then they’d only been boys who’d wandered into the youth shelter shortly before her.
Together, they’d forged more.
Their fuel station and restoration business thrived. Their camaraderie had grown into something like brotherhood. Still, part of her had shriveled as she hid her true feelings—day after day, year after year—for the men she lived and worked with.
And the only refuge she could imagine, a shelter where like-minded people would understand her dilemma, was hundreds of miles away. Or it had been before she’d started this mad journey in her beloved pink ’69 Mustang convertible. Now, the crew’s mountain retreat grew nearer with every heartbeat that separated her from Hot Rods.
As if afraid Sally would doze off at the wheel, her friend Kayla had chatted over the open line of Sally’s hands-free phone while she ate up the distance between them. Kaige, her fellow mechanic at Hot Rods, had installed the device not too long ago. The proof-of-concept had shown that opting for a classic car didn’t have to mean forsaking modern conveniences. The mechanics she ran with were skilled enough to hide technoperks while preserving the original detailing of an antique. No problem-o.
Genius. They’d earn the garage a mint with some of these doodads.
Plus, the communicator gave her the opportunity to pry into her friend’s alternative lifestyle before they were face to face. Time was running out. As was Sally’s stockpile of bravery. It’d been a hell of a day already. The dashed center line blinked rapidly enough to guarantee she’d have to finish this conversation in person. But at least she’d have the answers she’d wondered about the whole drive.
Hell, more like forever.
As long as she could remember, she’d had fantasies about the gang of misfit mechanics who’d taken her in, though she’d been terrified to admit it, even to herself. Was it because of her childhood that she believed multiple partner relationships were no big deal? Living on a commune in Utah, she’d seen every possible combination by the time she turned ten or so. Well, at least when it came to a man possessing several wives. She’d often dreamed of flipping the paradigm. Of loving more than one husband.
Did that make her open-minded and evolved or plain old fucked-up?
She hoped to find out soon. Spending a couple weeks with the crew’s women should help her separate non-traditional love from the not-so-nice elements of the extremist religion she’d been exposed to in her youth. Complicating factors incorporated into an already complex situation had muddied the playing field. Forced marriages, sex with minors and brainwashing certainly had no place on her list of turn-ons.
Her GPS said there was less than three minutes to go in her should-have-been five-hour drive. So what if she’d made it in record time?
King Cobra—Eli London, owner of Hot Rods—wasn’t there to disapprove or punish her for her gross speed infractions. Too damn bad.
By now he was probably well into round six or seven with that slut he and Alanso had picked up from the bar last night. Fawn. What the fuck kind of name was that anyway?
At least the guys called her Mustang Sally. Horses were strong. Free. Not helpless like some freaking deer. And certainly not innocent. No, it’d been a hell of a long time since she’d been classified as that. Maybe that was why the mechanics weren’t interested despite the fact that she could offer them a hell of a lot more than a sloppy fuck on the hood of someone else’s car.
And Kayla still hadn’t answered the million-dollar question, despite the meandering path of Sally’s thoughts, which was almost as convoluted as the road she now hauled ass along. Gaining altitude, she flexed her jaw to pop her ears and continued the climb, loving the purr of her engine. Alanso had worked miracles on it.
“Kay? Still there?” Sally paused, hoping her friend stayed with her just a little while longer. She truly didn’t wish to be alone with her thoughts just yet. Crying while driving was not recommended, no matter the skill of the driver. “Sorry if that was too personal.”
“Hmm?” Kayla sounded farther away, not closer. “Oh, no! You’re fine. I was just thinking of how to describe it to you. It’s beyond words.”
The other woman’s dreamy sigh was like a punch to the gut for Sally. Maybe she was better off not knowing what she was missing. Because having a taste of that delicacy then going on an eternal diet would be far more painful than simply never having sampled such a fine treat.
“You know, it might be better to show you. Devon, Neil and James came over a few minutes ago. The guys are supposed to be working on a project at Bare Natural for me today. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a long lunch.”
Oh. Wow. Sally pictured the muscled construction workers. They were nearly as hot as her grease monkeys. Almost.
“Part of me wants to scream ‘hell yes’, but part of me is afraid.” She slowed to ease the Mustang onto the twisty mountain road that led to Kayla’s naturist retreat. Maybe a few weeks of getting in touch with her sexy side and roaming the woods naked would do her some good.
If the Hot Rods weren’t meant to be hers, it was about time for her to look elsewhere for a life partner. Or a half dozen. But the mere thought of seceding from their group broke her heart all over again. Shards dissembled into smaller fragments, splintering her soul.
“What about the part of you that’s curious?” Kayla prodded gently. “The part that needs to be loved for who you are? Your Hot Rods know you. They love you already. They’re being dumbasses.”
“Maybe we can figure that out after I have a nap under my belt?” She yawned.
“If you’re getting sleepy, pull over, sweetheart.” The anxious rumble of Kayla’s husband Dave’s bass rained from her speakers. “It’s not worth getting in an accident. Trust me.”
“Am I on speaker?” Sally would have knocked her forehead on her white steering wheel if she didn’t need to focus all her attention on the route and the thick underbrush, which lined the shoulder and could be hiding an army of deer. Stupid Fawns.
“Well, not technically.” A giggle escaped Kayla. “But Dave is cuddling right next to me.”
“Hey, don’t be pulling any pervy stuff with your wife while we’re chatting you big lug.”
“Don’t worry. H
e’s mostly behaving. The guys offered to drive out and meet you on the side of the road. Just stay where you are and they’ll come get you. Promise they’ll go gentle on your baby.”
“Just let’s hurry this up.” Dave grunted. “I drew the short straw and I don’t want the whole city seeing me driving that girly Pepto-mobile.”
“I’ll have you know she’s the perfect shade of pink with a hint of metallic flake in the top coat. I tried fifty-seven before I decided on this one.” Sally wasn’t joking. “And no worries, I’m pulling in your driveway right now.”
“Holy shit.” Dave sounded like he was on the move, muffled and fading. “How fast were you driving?”
“Nothing could have gotten me away from there soon enough.” A sob hitched her breathing now that the peak of her friends’ A-frame came into view.
“It’s going to work out. You’ll see.” Kayla’s reassurance barely cut through Sally’s bone-deep exhaustion.
By the time she rolled to a stop at the edge of the expansive yard, the porch overflowed with welcoming friends. The five-guys-and-one-girl crew plus their wives and two babies. With Sally, they’d make an even dozen.
Neil and James approached in synch. Neil opened her door and drew her from the car. He didn’t hesitate to wrap her in a big bear hug. “We’ve got you, Mustang Sally.”
James checked the empty backseat. “Is your suitcase in the trunk? Let me get it for you.”
She shook her head against the warm strength of Neil’s chest, closing her eyes as she leaned on him. “I’m stupid. I didn’t even grab a bag. This is all I brought.”
“We’ve got you covered.” Devon, who belonged to both James and Neil—or maybe she owned the pair—joined the gathering.
“Yeah, you’re tiny enough to fit in Dev’s stuff.” James ruffled her hair a little. “Or you could always feel free to join in with the naturist guests.”
“Right now I just want to crash.” She hid a sniffle against Neil’s soft cotton shirt. It smelled of sawdust, not oil or rubber. Though it was nice, it wasn’t right. It wasn’t home. The difference had her cringing.
“You got it.” James cut in on his mate and swung her into his arms. She normally would have protested mightily. This time she let him sweep her into their midst.
“Hi.” Sheepish, she peeked up at the crew as they passed.
“Glad to see you again, kid.” Joe stepped forward to kiss her cheek. The resemblance to King Cobra soothed her a little, even as it riled her again. He held up his phone. “Just texted my dumbass cousin to let him know you arrived safe and sound.”
She angled her face into James’s body once again, embarrassed by the pain she couldn’t hide.
“Eli was horrified when he realized what had happened, you know?” Joe rubbed her shoulder. “Maybe you should give him a quick call? Sort some of this out? Could it be a misunderstanding?”
“I didn’t mistake Alanso’s cock pounding that ungrateful bitch while Eli cheered him on. Nope. No, confusion about that. I’m not ready. I don’t know what to say—what I want—since I can’t have what I’d hoped for.” Opening her lids became more and more difficult. The peaks and valleys of the past couple days weighed on her.
Not only her own aches and devastation.
Whether they accepted her care or not, it had broken her heart when Alanso had charged into the common area of their apartment above the garage and declared he was bisexual, as if they’d think less of him for his orientation. Or when Eli had received the letter detailing the death of Alanso’s mother. New news, though ancient history. She’d wept as he informed his best friend and lover, wishing they’d take her along to comfort them instead of drowning their sorrows in cheap liquor and picking up some stray prey.
“No. Not talking to them,” she mumbled, not caring how petulant she sounded.
Sleep encroached on her consciousness, lulling her into the oblivion of dreams where all she desired could still come true.
“Okay, honey.” Joe backed off. “I’m not sure what that means, but you can tell us later. Maybe right after we give you the spanking Eli and Alanso told us to administer. They’re none too happy about your land-speed record.”
“Fuck them.” She slumped beneath the weight of the tiredness plaguing her.
“I think we’ll leave that to you.” Mike took his turn squeezing one of her ankles, which dangled near him. “But Joe’s right. Let’s set you up in the living room. We’ll leave you alone so you can sleep this off. Things will look better when you’re rested. I promise.”
She tried to argue. It was too much effort.
Instead, she surrendered to their care. Safe, surrounded by allies, she drifted away from the agony radiating from the ragged hole in her chest where her heart used to pump. She’d left that worthless organ splattered on the floor of the garage when she’d bolted from the men she loved. They hadn’t noticed or cared. Not while they slaked their lust on a barfly who didn’t give a shit about them or their love for each other.
Stupid bastards.
“Basking in the sunshine again, huh? You’ve come a hell of a long way in two weeks. What a pretty sight you make, Mustang Sally.” Buck-ass naked, Neil sauntered over to Sally’s chaise on the deck.
The crew had built the grand platform to harness the raw beauty of the panoramic view. The mountainside, with its lush greenery and the lake at its feet, was laid out for Bare Natural’s guests. Not to mention the resort’s owner and her friends.
They were the first to enjoy the new addition, during the maintenance and renovation window. Guests would return in a couple days. Spruced up and ready for another prosperous season, the place looked great. No wonder Kayla had carved out a niche in the specialty destination market.
Sally took a sip of the fruity mixed drink Neil—one of Devon’s pair of husbands—handed her before she set it on the fragrant cedar beside her chair. She flipped over onto her stomach.
“It’s still kind of weird to be flashing my ass all over these woods.” She hoped the color creeping up her neck into her face looked like a product of the rays they soaked up instead of her mild embarrassment.
“We’ll miss your cute behind around here.” James smacked it lightly as he joined Neil and Devon. The trio beamed at each other like the lovesick fools they were. “Want me to rub some more tanning lotion on you? You’re getting a decent base built up, but you were white as snow to start. Don’t think you want to chance a burn at this point. Five hours, even in your sweet ride, won’t be comfy if your tush is crispy.”
He waited for her nod before he reached out. They’d been so damn careful with her, as if she was made of glass. Eli and Alanso would never handle her with kid gloves. She sighed.
A steady massage from James’s skilled hands proved Kayla had been sharing her trade secrets. The pressure protected and soothed Sally simultaneously.
That must have accounted for why she murmured her thoughts aloud. “Do I have to go home tomorrow?”
Joe’s baritone, so similar to Eli’s, caused her to jerk. James scrubbed the tension from her shoulders. “You’re always welcome here. Indefinitely. But I’m afraid my cousin will go berserk if you postpone your reunion. At this rate, he’ll be as bald as Alanso when you turn up.”
“Yeah, right.” The indignant huff she tried for sounded more like a pout. “Why would he care that I’m gone?”
Crying was not an option. Not after fourteen days of shoring up her weakness with fun, cookouts, movie nights, shopping, laughter and girl talk. These past two weeks had strengthened her friendships with the crew and their ladies. Plus, she’d remembered what it was like to be independent. Something more than one of Eli’s gang.
For the first time, she wished there were other women at Hot Rods. Someone who could relate like Kate, Kayla, Morgan and Devon did when she needed to indulge in a men suck moment.
As if he could sense her mounting despair, James brushed a kiss over the crown of her head, then left her alone.
“I re
alize the toolbox hasn’t done a great job of showing you yet, but your guys adore you as much as we do our girls,” Joe continued. “I’m sure of it.”
She couldn’t deny that. Her gang cared for her. Like a little sister or another one of their buddies. The appreciation she’d had for that equality suddenly soured, transforming into something bitter.
It just wasn’t enough anymore.
Watching the four new families and the greater crew they comprised had ratcheted Sally’s aspirations to pretty astronomic levels. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave the gang.”
She rolled over and drew her knees to her chest, crossing her arms on top of them.
Resting her chin on her stacked wrists, she sighed.
Half the crew surrounded her now. Morgan had accompanied her sexy-as-sin husband. They’d probably left baby Nathan with Mike, Kate, Kayla and Dave. The big guy still had to rest fairly often after working his leg too hard. His limp grew more pronounced when fatigue set in. Luckily, his wife was a massage therapist. She’d do her best to unwind any lingering knots. Seeing all the crew had overcome made Sally feel guilty for her disappointment.
There were so many things she had to be grateful for. Why couldn’t she ignore the one thing she couldn’t have?
Morgan and Joe claimed seats on Sally’s right, balancing out the trio on her left when James and Neil raided Devon’s oversized lounger. She didn’t seem to mind being squished between the two handsome men. Her husbands.
Their bronzed skin glowed in the heat of the afternoon.
“I may not have known you all that long—or as well as I do now—when you bailed.” Devon slid her sunglasses to the top of her head, pinning her short hair out of her eyes, to peer at Sally. “But I’m positive you’re not a coward. So what’s with all this running away bullshit? Haven’t you had enough hiding yet?”
“Who says I’m—”
“Don’t bother arguing that one, cutie.” Joe shook his head. “Last night you sold yourself out. I haven’t seen you haul ass in two weeks like you did when Eli and Alanso’s Skype request popped onto my laptop. You practically dove over the couch like an extra in Saving Private Ryan to dodge those idiots. Nothing’s going to be resolved until you talk. All three of you. Hell, the entire gang of crazy mechanics. You’re just prolonging this torture for everyone.”
