Faster (Stark Ink, #3)

by Dahlia West

  Jonah narrowed his eyes at her.

  Ava scowled. How much did he know? How could she even find out? To ask anything risked revealing the fact that she was hiding something. A lot of somethings.

  “What are you doing here?!” she hissed quietly, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure Adam was in his room.

  Jonah narrowed his eyes at her. “Making sure you and Sienna got home. Which took one hell of a long time,” he pointed out.

  Ava pressed her lips together. “It’s fine,” she assured him. “Sienna’s at home. She’s fine. Not that you really care,” she added, trying to shift the focus.

  It worked, even though it made Ava feel like dog shit. Jonah’s mouth tightened and he looked away. “I care,” he replied quietly.

  Ava hesitated. She’d never heard Jonah say anything of the sort before, about anyone, especially not her best friend. As far as she knew, Jonah spent his free time attempting to avoid Sienna like the plague. “She doesn’t think so.”

  Jonah shook his head. “I can’t help what she thinks.”

  Ava gaped at him. “Um, bullshit,” she told him. “You could just— ”

  “I can’t just do anything.”

  “But—”

  “Drop it,” Jonah ordered. “And let’s get back to your Hispanic hero earlier tonight.”

  Ava snarled at her brother. “He’s not my anything,” she snapped. “And what about him?”

  “He wouldn’t say where you met him, exactly. Just said that you two were hanging out.”

  Ava’s chin rose a notch. “What else did he say about me?”

  Jonah shrugged. “That he’d seen you on your bike. And he was impressed.”

  She snorted. “Impressive for a chick?”

  “Actually, he said you were the best he’d seen, other than himself. Dude’s got an ego, that’s for sure. Not my problem, though. He seems all right. I’ve heard of his friends. Adam and Dalton know them.”

  For some reason, Ava felt pleased that he’d said that about her. Not that she really cared what anyone thought, but still... “What friends?”

  “They work at a garage. I think Adam used to take his bike there. It’s probably where I’ll end up going with mine.”

  Ava bristled. “You’re going to check up on my Hispanic hero?”

  Jonah lifted an eyebrow. The silver piercing glittered in the overhead light. “Thought you said he wasn’t your anything?”

  “He’s not,” she argued. “But where’s this garage?”

  Jonah rolled his eyes at her. “I’m not here to play matchmaker.”

  “I need my oil changed!”

  Oops. It was the wrong thing to say. Ava knew how to change her own oil and Jonah damn well knew it.

  “I mean— ” she scrambled.

  “Whatever,” Jonah said as he headed for the front door. “I don’t give a shit. The guy checks out. That’s all I care about. The garage is called Burnout. It’s in the same neighborhood as the bar.” He turned back. His eyes bored into her. “Which you won’t be going to, ever again. And sure as fuck not with Sienna, right?”

  Ava shivered at his chilly tone. Between Jonah’s massive size and the slight air of menace that always seemed to surround him, he was more intimidating than Adam. Or Dalton. Or even Pop.

  “I won’t go back,” she promised.

  “Good,” he said, reaching for the doorknob. “Because I’m not a fucking babysitter.”

  Ava resisted the urge to argue that she needed one. Jonah would never hurt her, not in a million years. But a shouting match would wake Adam and Pop and she’d be forced to explain more than she cared to.

  As she watched the front door to the house close, her darker thoughts gave way to new possibilities. She knew Emilio’s name now, and where he worked. And he thought she was a damn good rider, unless he was just blowing smoke at Jonah. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. She was determined to find out, though, because damn, he was hot.

  Her bike didn’t need any work, but she knew a vehicle that did.

  Chapter Eight

  Ava found the garage pretty easily. In fact, it wasn’t too far from Maria’s Bar. The low-slung building was set back from the street, surrounded by chain-link fencing. The front gate was open, though, and she turned into the crushed gravel lot. To her left there was a row of Harley’s, all black and chrome, all gleaming in the summer sun. The Interceptor stood out among them as the only racing bike, though it probably cost nearly as much as the others.

  She pulled up next to the Honda and killed the engine of the Olds. She heaved open the driver’s side door and planted her boot on the gravel. Instead of heading straight into the garage, though, she stopped long enough to admire the bike in daylight. Painted oxblood red, it had a leather seat to match. The muffler system had been modified and so had the clutch. It was nicer than her own Honda, quite a bit more expensive, especially with the after-market mods. Ava didn’t know which one she lusted after more: the bike or its rider. Though the issue was soon settled.

  “Changed your mind about the ride?” The voice that came from behind her was smooth as silk, with that soft Latin lilt that melted like chocolate off his tongue.

  Ava fought a shiver as she remembered just how that tongue tasted. Dark and spicy. She turned and he shook the keys at her.

  “We could go now,” he offered.

  Tempting as it was, she wasn’t that easily swayed. “Ride on your bitch seat? Forget it.” She batted her eyelashes at him comically. “You could just hand them over. Let me take it for a spin myself.”

  His expression darkened just a bit.

  Ava tried to look doe-eyed and innocent. “I’ll bring it right back,” she added. “Promise.”

  He shook his head firmly. “No one drives my ride but me, chica. And we have other promises to keep.”

  Ava smirked at him. “I never promised you anything.”

  “Your mouth did, muñeca.” He stepped closer and leaned toward her to whisper, “And your nipples.”

  She felt the familiar heat pooling in her belly. He was standing close enough for her to catch his scent: faint cologne and motor oil, a tempting combination to a girl like her. His hands were dirty and calloused and she wanted them on her. In the blazing South Dakota sun, his hair shone with glints of warm honey highlights among the darker strands. Ava’s own hands twitched with the urge to run her fingers through it.

  Every time she saw him, he got impossibly hotter.

  He glanced at the Olds, perusing it casually. “No bike today?”

  “I- there’s a dent,” she replied and pointed to the rear fender. “It’s my friend’s car. It’s my fault, so I said I’d fix it for her.”

  The corners of his mouth tugged up. His eyes twinkled in the strong sunlight. “You took a hammer to this car just so you’d have an excuse to come and see me? You don’t need an excuse. You could’ve just shown up. No need to abuse vintage cars on my account, muñeca.”

  Ava gasped. “I did not! I...” She paused, realizing she couldn’t tell him the truth. “It was an accident!”

  Emilio shook his head, though. He disagreed. “No, no, no, baby girl. You and me meeting in the canyons? That was no accident. That was fate.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Coincidence,” she insisted.

  “Fate,” he argued.

  “We’re just two people who happen to both like racing. That’s all.”

  He smiled down at her. “Oh, I bet we have a lot more in common than just that.”

  Ava smirked at him. Even if it was true, she didn’t want to find out. One and done. That was it. Well... maybe twice. It was all he was after anyway, surely. So maybe they did have that in common, at least.

  “Doubtful,” she told him anyway, feeling contrary.

  He shrugged. “Okay, then. Have it your way. Let’s just get your car fixed.”

  He turned and walked away, back toward the garage.

  Ava gaped at his retreating back. Unsure what to do no
w, she hopped forward and started to follow him inside. Once they passed under the open bay doors, she realized there were four other men, all of them large, all of them strangers.

  “This is Ava,” Emilio told the others. “Stark,” he added for good measure. “You know her brothers.” He grinned at her. “Adam, Dalton, Jonah. And... DJ?”

  She smirked at him to hide her guilty expression. She was so busted. “DJ’s my nephew, actually.”

  “Ah,” Emilio replied. “DJ’s the nephew.”

  Ava nodded to the assembled group. Most of them returned the greeting. Her eyes fell on the largest of them, though, who did not look particularly happy. His long, black hair and bronze skin marked him as Sioux Nation. There were plenty here in Rapid City and on the nearby reservation. She smiled at him.

  The huge man merely grunted at her.

  Ava waited for him to say something, but he didn’t seem inclined. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Emilio. “Is that a good grunt or a bad grunt?” she asked him.

  Emilio eyed the man for a moment before answering. “A neutral grunt,” he declared.

  “Neutral?”

  Emilio grinned. “Hawk has a long memory. Unfortunately. But he’s coming around, right?”

  Silence.

  Ava’s brows knitted together. “But why neutral? What’s the deal?” She looked the man over carefully before asking, “What did Adam do?”

  It had to be Adam. He was the worst Stark offender. Even though he was engaged now, occasionally women still showed up at the tattoo shop, not having gotten the message that the eldest Stark was off the market. Apparently, Ava’s older brother left a lasting impression.

  No one answered. In the sunlight that filtered through the open bay door, the thin gold band on the man’s left hand glittered. Ava caught a glimpse of it and then gasped. “Oh!” she gasped. Her mouth was hanging so far open she might catch flies in it. “Oh, crap!”

  Emilio was about to say something when the large Sioux snorted. A deep, baritone voice filled the garage. The man’s voice was just as intimidating as his appearance. “If he’d done that, little girl, he’d be in pieces all over the Badlands.”

  Ava swallowed hard and stared up at him. She didn’t dare doubt his words. “He’s getting married,” she told him, hoping to smooth things over.

  Another grunt.

  The blond guy draped an arm over the Sioux’s shoulders. He smiled, white teeth flashing. “We know. We got an invitation. Hawk’ll be there. I promise.” He elbowed the larger man in the ribs. “Water under the bridge, right?”

  “Might put him under a bridge,” the large man muttered.

  The blond frowned. “Hey, now, let’s not— ”

  Ava stepped forward, ignited by his threat. “Look, I don’t know you and I’m sorry for whatever it is my brother did with your wife. But that was a long time ago. He loves Calla and he’s getting married.” She took another step forward, letting her anger get the better of her. “And if you so much as touch my brother, I will end you. I promise you. I don’t care how big you are. There are ways. So many ways. And I won’t lose sleep over it. Not one night.”

  “Whoa!” said the blond. He ditched Hawk and surged forward toward Ava. “Now let’s not kick up a ruckus here in the garage. Too many potential weapons and I just hosed off the floor this morning.”

  Before Ava could react, he slipped the keys to the Olds out of her hand and winked at her. “I’m Tex, by the way.” He jingled the car keys at her. “And we’ll get your car fixed up. No problem. Service with a smile, right, Hawk?”

  Emilio took hold of her wrist and pulled. He led her away, across the garage, toward a door marked Employees Only.

  “Damn,” someone said behind her. She didn’t recognize the voice. “Emilio snagged a live one.”

  “Sassy,” someone concurred.

  Ava’s heart pounded in her chest as she allowed herself to be led away.

  The one voice she did recognize rumbled low and filled the bay with its deep timber. “I like her. He should keep that one.”

  The door slammed shut behind them and Ava realized they were in a small break room. There was a sink in the corner and a refrigerator against the wall.

  “Damn,” said Emilio as he looked her up and down. “Guess you take after your brothers, huh? You and Jonah, making friends wherever you go.” He laughed.

  Ava took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She’d momentarily forgotten that Emilio had met Jonah, and that he’d apparently covered for her. She owed him for that.

  “Pretty much,” she replied. “Listen, I...” She took another breath to steady herself. “Thanks for not saying anything to Jonah about how we met. There wasn’t time last night to ask you to keep it to yourself.”

  Emilio nodded. “I figured he didn’t know. He seems... protective, to say the least. Breaking the rules, huh? You sure you’re eighteen?”

  Ava felt the hair on the back of her neck bristle again.

  Emilio held up his hands. “Oh, easy there, little mama. I’m just teasing you. Don’t take a swing at me, okay? I know you’re eighteen. Jonah told me.”

  Ava eyed him warily. “What else did he say?” She couldn’t even begin to guess what Jonah would say about her. She didn’t even know how Jonah felt about her, honestly. Even after all those years of growing up in the same house, both adopted Starks seemed to have that and only that in common.

  Emilio grinned at her. “He said you just graduated and that you’re a bit of a handful. I think you’re two handfuls, at least, but I kept it to myself. Your brother doesn’t look like an hermano I’d care to tango with, if you know what I mean. He seemed cool with me taking you out, though, once he found out who I was and my friends vouched for me.”

  Ava jutted out her chin defiantly. “What if I’m not cool with you taking me out?” She did, though, of course. Emilio was just too tempting to resist. But it was odd to be kept off balance like this, to not have the upper hand.

  He grinned— insufferably— then he shrugged. “You want to play games, muñeca? We can play. I know some fun ones. But lying? It’s no good. There’s no point.”

  “I was in a bar,” she reminded him.

  He held her gaze.

  Snake, Ava thought. She chewed the inside of her lip. “Sorry,” she finally told him.

  He nodded. “So, you came all the way across town just to see me. I’m flattered.”

  She scowled at him. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

  “No, you haven’t. Give me your number.”

  She cocked her head and looked up at him. “For what?”

  “So, I can call you when your car is done.”

  She felt somewhat deflated by his answer, but wouldn’t let it show. “Can’t you just do me now?” she teased.

  His eyes narrowed. “You don’t know how much I want to.”

  She watched him, waiting.

  He shook his head, though. “I shouldn’t touch you,” he told her. “I’m dirty, Ava.”

  “Thank God,” she whispered back.

  He laughed. “Maybe Shooter’s wrong. Maybe you have too much sass, muñeca.”

  “You keep saying that: muñeca—what does it mean?”

  “Wrist.”

  Ava wrinkled her nose. “Not very sexy.”

  “Really? Are you sure?” Despite his declaration just seconds ago, he took hold of her wrist and turned it over until the soft underside was exposed. He brought it to his lips and pressed them to her skin. “Seems sexy to me.” His hot breath caressed her and she shivered in spite of herself.

  She was used to taking charge. Her swagger and confidence usually overwhelmed her intended targets, but this guy was different. Emilio wasn’t intimidated, didn’t count himself blessed that she would bother with him. He looked at her as though he’d woken up this morning knowing she’d seek him out, like he’d been waiting for her all day.

  Ava had never met any guys like that, for sure. “How old are you?” she prompted.

&nb
sp; Cocky. He was far too cocky.

  He kissed her wrist again and then, reluctantly, dragged his lips away as though it pained him to have to stop. “Twenty-two.”

  Ava wrinkled her nose and pulled her arm back. “Oh. Well, forget it then.” She turned and waved him away dismissively as she stepped toward the door. “Too old,” she called back.

  “Old? Who’re you calling old?” he demanded.

  She felt his hands on her hips and suddenly she was dragged backward, against him. She giggled. “Guess your little blue pills are working,” she declared.

  Emilio’s hands traveled up and tugged gently at the hem of her shirt. They slipped inside and his fingers splayed across her bare belly. It fluttered at his touch. His lips brushed her ear. “You got a mouth on you, muñeca.”

  She leaned against him and closed her eyes. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  His thumbnail scraped the fabric of her bra. Just a tease.

  Ava bit her lip. “I’ve never used it before.” Her confession surprised herself and she held her breath, waiting.

  He groaned. “Dios,” he replied in a gravelly voice. “Please, God, tell me you’re not a virgin.” His mouth pressed harder against the side of her head. “I’m not strong enough to walk away, muñeca,” he whispered. “I’m a good guy, but I’m no saint.”

  Ava tensed. “I’m not a virgin,” she replied reluctantly. She didn’t really want to think about Clint just now.

  Emilio didn’t respond, though. His hands stopped moving.

  She turned her head to catch a glimpse of him. “Emilio?”

  He was quiet, too quiet. Ava was about to prod him when he said, “Not actually sure how I feel about that.”

  Fucking Clint, Ava thought. She wished he’d just fade away completely.

  She twisted out of Emilio’s grip and tugged her shirt back down angrily. Before she could leave, though, he caught her elbow and turned her back toward him. She stood for a moment, under the harsh florescent lights, looking up at him. He reached out and cupped her face in his hand, frowning as he did so. “Seems like maybe you’re not sure, either.”