Sasha exploded with laughter. “Ask you out? And you would say yes?”
“I would,” said Patrice. Her eyes took on a far off expression. “Shane is dreamy. I mean, have you seen his arms?”
“Yeah, like the rest of him they look like they’re twenty years old. The school probably held him back a few years. He’s dumb as a brick wall.”
“What is your problem?” I rounded on Sasha, officially over her snooty remarks. “He’s a good guy. And no, he wasn’t held back. We were in elementary school together.”
“No word on whether he’s dreamy?” Sasha mocked.
Patrice glared but didn’t stand up for herself. She never did. Sasha told her to jump, she asked how high. Sasha told her to stick some mascara in her purse and walk out of the store, Patrice became the world’s slyest thief.
“He’s too bad for you anyway,” Sasha said when I didn’t reply. “He’d eat you up, Miss Virgin USA.”
She laughed and Patrice, desperate to get back into favor, laughed too. I didn’t think it was funny. The problem with Sasha’s jokes about my purity was that I couldn’t fight her on them. I had never even kissed a boy, while she’d made it her mission to discover all sex had to offer as soon as possible. I didn’t think any less of her for the route she chose, so how was it fair for her to judge me for mine?
“He is pretty hot though,” Sasha continued. “I’ll give you that.”
I wasn’t sure whether she was talking to Patrice or me, so continued walking in silence.
“Poor as dirt, but hot as hell. Maybe one of these days I’ll have a ride.”
Two blocks away from the intersection, Sasha paused to adjust her skirt and pull more of her ample cleavage into view. Patrice and I hung alongside her as we always did, waiting for her to finish raking her fingers through her long brown hair and begin walking again.
“Come on,” she said after a moment. “Why are we just standing here?”
She started forward but wasn’t walking anymore—she was strutting. She strutted right past the blacked out front windows of the nightclub on the corner, Satan’s Perch, swaying her hips in an exaggerated fashion. I didn’t know why she did it. I doubted anybody was in the sleeping nightclub, and if they were they probably weren’t the kind of people we wanted to attract anyway.
Satan’s Perch was owned by none other than Preston Gromley, Wes’s dad, and I’d heard stories of all sorts of unsavory goings on in there. Granted, lots of those stories were probably sensationalized or fabricated entirely, due to the over-imaginative and over-inquisitive minds of Sitka Valley’s teenagers, but it still made my skin crawl just thinking about going inside. I didn’t intend to still be here by the time I was twenty-one anyway, so thankfully I’d never have to worry about it.
After we passed Satan’s Perch and nothing happened—as it never did—we came upon a squat building with “Keane Bikes” emblazoned above the door. The store windows were lit up, displaying the sleek new Kawasaki Ninja, which promised to deliver the best time a person could have on two wheels. Normally I’d walk right past and head home with the girls, but today I felt like getting a little space.
“I’m going to stop in and see my dad,” I announced. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Whatever,” said Sasha.
“See ya!” said Patrice.
I disengaged from the group and headed toward the front door, but I pulled off onto the little path around the side of the building. I never came in through the front door, especially not when Dad’s top (and only) salesman Rick was working. I didn’t like small talk and Rick didn’t know what other kinds of talk to make.
The rear door of the shop opened into a back hallway, which separated the sales floor and the auto body shop. Both sides of the building were small. We had a modest but dedicated client base, and dad didn’t care to expand the store. At least he didn’t care anymore. He used to have dreams of opening a sister location the next town over, where more bikers were known to frequent, but those dreams died around the same time as my mom.
My dad’s office was just at the end of the hall, and I braced myself, not knowing what kind of state I’d find him in. The last time I visited him at work, I found him staring at the blank wall in front of his desk. It took him a whole minute before he even realized I was there.
I passed the auto body shop doors on my way to my dad’s office. Dad did most of the repairs, though occasionally Shane came in to work on his bike or do some odd jobs for Dad. We never talked, but I’d seen him around a few times and always wondered if I should say something. Curiosity got the better of me today, after our almost chat earlier, and I poked my head around the corner of the window to take a peek.
Holy mother of pearl.
Shane was there alright. He was there and then some. I couldn’t tell how long he’d been here, but it must’ve been awhile, based on the sweat trickling down his sculpted back. He probably skipped his last class. Maybe he was a bit of a bad boy, which didn’t strike me as a negative at that moment.
It was a sight. The arms that Patrice had pointed out earlier were in full view as he fiddled with something on the back wheel of the upside down bike on the shop floor. His biceps bulged enticingly, and he turned just enough for me to see his face harrowed in concentration. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, though a few strands of it fell over his brow. In profile, he looked like a Greek god. Long, aquiline nose, prominent chin, high cheekbones. His neck was taut, leading down to those broad, sculpted shoulders that I’d admired more than once when nobody else was looking. How could this be the same high school boy who’d tried to talk to me after class today? He didn’t look like a boy. He looked like a man, hard and strong. If I had a quarter on me, I could’ve bounced it off his abs, which bunched up like frolicking kittens under his skin.
Shane’s chin turned toward me, and I snapped back away from the window, heart hammering like I’d just run a marathon or two. Did he know I was there? I stilled and listened, but all I could hear was the muffled classic rock coming from the shop and my drumming heartbeat. My mouth was dry. My body was shaking. I needed to get out of there.
Deciding that seeing my dad could wait, I hustled back to the outside door and into the cool afternoon air. The sun was peeking through the clouds now, and I wished it was dark out instead. I felt like anybody who saw me would know exactly what was going through my mind.
I raced back to my house, all but sprinting until I made it into my room and slammed the door. I was completely alone.
I shimmied out of my jeans and pounced onto the bed, sliding under the covers in the same instant as I slid my hand under the waistband of my panties. God, I was wet. It felt so wrong to touch myself to the thought of Shane, but I couldn’t help it. He looked so rugged, so tough. I could just imagine him catching me at the window, calling me into the shop just to slam me against the wall and have his wicked way with me. Sure, I was a virgin, but I’d happily give it up just to have a taste of what that hot Irish bad boy was packing.
My fingers found that sensitive bundle of nerves and I swirled my pointer finger over it. My chest heaved with the force of my breaths, thighs already quaking with pleasure. I thought of Shane’s powerful arms holding me tightly, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe. I thought of his devilish mouth nibbling on my earlobe, whispering in my ear how much he wanted me, all the naughty things he was going to do to me.
Sure, I was a good girl, just like Sasha said, but I didn’t have good thoughts. I longed for the right guy to come along, the one who would take my hand and show me all the night’s pleasures. I couldn’t think of anyone worthier of the role than Shane, with his dimpled smile and his big, strapping hands.
I cooed, slipping a finger inside myself just enough to make the pleasure more intense. In my fantasy it was Shane touching me, stroking my inner walls as he growled his pleasure in my ear. I bucked against my hand, moaning and shaking as my orgasm approached. Holy hell. If sex was anywhere near as good as this, then I w
as going to like it a lot. My thighs clenched. My heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to escape. The fluid bliss flowing from my fingers to the deepest parts of me began to bubble and rise, and soon I was careening over the edge of a massive climax. Since I was home alone, I indulged in a throaty scream as I came. The Shane of my fantasies liked that a lot.
I sagged back onto the bed and gulped down a few mouthfuls of air. The world came back into focus, and I realized that I’d just masturbated to the thought of my dad’s employee. How filthy was I?
I giggled and let my eyes fall closed.
Chapter 3
Shane
Randall’s shop was my refuge. There wasn’t anything wrong with my house per se, but home was a long way away, and there was nowhere else in this town where I felt comfortable. It took me up to an hour to drive out to my mom’s little trailer in the sticks, depending on traffic, and once I was out there I was stuck. Nothing to do, nothing to see. Randall’s was the perfect in-between—a place where I could be myself in peace without having to stare at an old as dirt TV set until it was time to go to sleep.
The money helped too, of course. And it was a place I could go to and fix up my bike whenever I needed to, which was a lot. My ’85 Honda Rebel was a good runner, but it was old. Old things fall apart. Having a garage I could putter in at my leisure was the best part of the job. Well, almost the best part.
I was crouched over a drop sheet of tools when Dallas’s sexy figure strode through the shop doors. She didn’t spend a lot of time here, but I saw her now and then. It was always a treat when she stopped in, even if I only got to see a flash of her hair as she walked past the double doors and to her dad’s office.
She looked particularly tasty today, her hair tied up in a high ponytail, wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a plaid shirt buttoned just below her neck. The outfit would have looked plain on anybody else, but Dallas wore it almost sinfully. Her legs were long and lean, but her hips were full, and her ass was round. Since she’d first turned from a skinny kid into a luscious woman, she’d been my preferred body type.
“Hey Shane,” she said, smiling lightly. “Have you seen my dad?”
I hadn’t talked to Dallas since the day I nearly asked her to prom, and I didn’t have any intentions of trying again. It backfired in my face, and I knew when to step back. She was too good for me, always would be.
I answered her question as succinctly as possible.
“He went out about an hour ago.”
Dallas’s face fell, and she drew her bottom lip into her mouth to chew on it. I couldn’t help but stare, cock hardening uncomfortably in my pants. How badly I wanted to nibble on those cherry pink lips.
“Do you know when he’s going to be back?” she asked, stepping further into the room.
I wiped my hands on my pants and stood up, shaking my head. “He didn’t say where he was going.” Noticing the obvious distress on her face, I asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Uh...” Dallas scratched her head and gave me a sheepish smile. “Do you know anything about pedal bikes?”
“Pedal bikes?” I cocked a brow.
“Yeah.”
“I know lots about pedal bikes. Is there any specific piece of knowledge you’re looking for, or should I start just rattling off facts?”
Dallas laughed and stepped closer, running her hand absently over the top of the workbench. “My chain came off. I think it might be broken so I was hoping to get my dad to come have a look at it for me.”
She hit me with the full force of those baby blues, and I knew she could ask the world of me and I’d find a way to give it to her. A loose bike chain? Hell, I could do that for her with both my eyes shut and my hands behind my back.
“Sure, I’ll have a look,” I said. “Direct me to the patient.”
Dallas chuckled, and I followed her outside, where she’d leaned her bike up against the side of the building. As she said, the chain was hanging loose. As expected, it would be an easy fix.
“You really don’t know anything about bikes, huh?” I asked, squatting down to start fiddling with it.
Dallas squatted down beside me and watched my hands. “I don’t. I’m totally useless.”
“That’s surprising. I would’ve thought your dad would be all about teaching you the family business.”
She snorted. “Family business my ass. I’ve got no desire to learn anything about the shop. Poor Dad. Should’ve had a boy.”
I put the chain back into place and had a check around to make sure there weren’t any other problems. Satisfied, I sat back and waved toward the bike.
“All done.”
“Awesome!” Dallas beamed, her face splitting open with sunbeams. “You’re a top rate mechanic.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said with a wry grin. “This was an easy fix. A very easy fix. Not that I mind or anything, but I can’t take any credit.”
She bit her lip and winced comically. “Yikes. It looks like I’m even worse on two wheels than I am on two feet.”
I laughed, and we started heading back into the building. “Are you going to get a bike?” I asked. “A proper one, I mean.”
Dallas closed the door behind her and scowled. “Hey, don’t talk shit about my bike. That bitch and I have been through some shit together.”
“Okay, okay.” I smiled and held the door to the auto shop open for her. She walked past with her head high and her chin stuck out. I had the sudden urge to bend her over my knee and give her a good spanking. There was nothing better than a good girl who craved a little punishment, and I had the feeling Dallas would be the type if I ever got the chance to find out. Not that I would. Pity.
“Your bike is an exceptional example of modern class and engineering,” I continued. “I would be so lucky to mount her.”
Dallas faltered a step as she walked over to the bench. I could only assume it was due to the visual I’d just placed in her head, one that slipped out unintentionally but that I was glad of now. What else did she imagine me mounting? Maybe I did have a chance after all.
I decided to give her a break. I didn’t want to send her into a total tailspin.
“So?” I pushed. “Are you?”
Dallas turned to face me, leaning back against the bench and letting her hair fall forward. I could only assume she was trying to hide her now crimson cheeks. Fuck, she was gorgeous. So innocent and sweet. I would do anything for her, be anything for her if she’d let me.
“I don’t think so,” she replied. “They’re scary.”
“Scary?” I quirked a brow. “You don’t like the taste of danger on your tongue, princess?”
I couldn’t resist. The way her lips parted in response was worth it. I was getting hard just from looking at her, and I knew I was teasing myself more than anything else.
“I like rollercoasters as much as the next person,” Dallas said. “But something about being on a bike seems much more dangerous without even offering the same thrill. I’ve only been on one once, but I was too scared to look up the whole time.” She shrugged. “It’s just not for me, I guess.”
“Well, everyone to their own, I suppose.”
There was a commotion down the hallway, the sound of approaching footsteps. A second later Randall came through the shop doors, already talking to me. “Shane, have you seen my—“
Randall stopped when he saw his daughter and furrowed his brow. “Hey, pumpkin. Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Dallas became visibly flustered, shooting forward from her spot on the bench. “Yeah, I came because I was hoping you’d have a look at my bike for me. The chain came off.” She looked over at me, licking a lip nervously. “Uh, Shane fixed it for me though. Apparently, it wasn’t a problem.”
“Did he now?” Randall looked over at me, and I thought for sure there would be disapproval in his gaze. There wasn’t. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was pleased.
“What were you l
ooking for, Mr. Keane?” I asked.
Randall’s eyes flashed, and he returned to the flustered state he was in when he entered.
“Right! Thank you! My glasses. I cannot find them for the life of me.”
“Last I saw they were on your desk,” I replied.
Randall immediately turned on his heel and marched back out the doors.
“He’s so forgetful,” Dallas said, sounding more concerned than I would have expected her to. She seemed troubled all of a sudden, but by what? Surely it couldn’t be because Randall couldn’t find his glasses.
I never wanted to see this girl worried. I never wanted to see her in pain. An idea came to me, and I let it out without thinking.
“Can I take you out for a ride?”
Dallas blinked in surprise. “Like, on your bike?”
How badly I wanted to reply with something cheeky. Instead, I just nodded.
“Yeah. Show you that it’s not as scary as you think.”
Dallas glanced toward the door. “I should ask my dad.”
At that moment, Randall burst back into the room, glasses atop his head. “Found them,” he announced.
Dallas looked like she was figuring out the best way to broach the question to her father. I just went ahead and asked.
“Mr. Keane, would it be okay if I took your daughter out for a ride?”
Randall looked between the two of us, first stern-faced and then with a small turn of his lips.
“I don’t see why not,” he said. “Don’t be too late though. And no riding like you’re Evil Knievel.”
“Sure thing.” I grinned, elation bubbling in my chest. I couldn’t believe that after all this time, I was getting to spend some legitimate quality time with Dallas. I wanted to go somewhere where there would be no distractions. No Wes. No anything.
Just me, my perfect girl, and the woods.
Chapter 4
Dallas
Billionaire's Playmate Page 128
