by Rie Warren
Unlike the constant tweets from @Felicity, @Dev, @Jaque_line, I got nada from Leelee. I understood why. She’d been burned by a guy who’d come out as gay weeks before their wedding. I’d come out as not gay the same time as ten tons of shit fell on her head.
LaForge had been named and shamed, his agency going down in flames. Indicted for harassment and extortion, his career was dragged under and drowned as others followed Leelee’s suit. All this I heard over the goddamn Twitterverse, which was my only lifeline to the woman I wanted an entire life with.
Someone else managed to track me down. It wasn’t hard, just follow the fucking bouncy cursor. @The_JGem tweeted me, from ten miles away:
U’ll b cover 4 August LitLiv Mag, yes? Gud. Coming with photag 06-30 2 Stone’s
The bastard little birdy didn’t allow me enough characters to express how much I vetoed that idea. My phone calls and messages to her went unanswered because Jules Gem knew she had me by the balls.
The dreaded day arrived. Punctual as ever, she swooped into the parking lot with a photographer in tow. She climbed out of her SUV, transformed from a bulldog in a cocktail dress to a beach girl in a sundress. She still had bite though.
“Stone!” She imparted two fancy air kisses. Snapping her fingers at the shaggy-haired photographer, she said, “Scout it out, pronto. I need natural lighting”—she paused, squinting at the interior of the Pit—“and check the meter in that area. We could get some amazing affects from the overhead glow. Yes?”
During that day, the definition of hell was Jules posing me, oiling me up and buttoning me down. She ordered me into a perfectly tailored suit she’d pulled out of a bag and my own fedora. She told me to bend over and show her some ass while I had my head stuck under my Camaro’s hood. All this was because of great juxtaposition between the expensive suit, my dirty hands, and the all-man mechanic interior of the Pit.
“Outfit change!” She briskly clapped her hands.
I backed out from around the support rods, whipping off the tie that hung loose around the open collar of my dress shirt. Greasing up the nice suit on purpose was liberating, especially since it didn’t belong to me. Claps, catcalls, hoots ’n’ hollers greeted me. I flushed scarlet to the roots of my hair. My photo shoot had attracted a ridiculous crowd filling the entire parking lot. Fuck my life, right? The old cronies grinned with toothless gums. The odd assortment of customers whooped it up. Every now and then I thought I saw a glimpse of stunning orange-gold hair, but that was stupid. No way was Leelee here.
I definitely spotted a few past conquests though. That alone made me rush to the office for my outfit change. Returning in coveralls, I wore the top looped around my waist to reveal a white bro-tank underneath. Jules subjected me to a couple more hours of “pose with your arms flexed”, “tank top off and close up on the tat”.
For the final shots of the afternoon, I loosened up, remembering my easy-come, easy-go Stone persona. “Hey, Miss Gem. How’s about I pull the top of my coveralls back on but leave ’em open and keep the tank top off?” The air screeched with whistles and screams. I tugged the zipper at my crotch. “And maybe lower this a little too?”
“Like at Guys with Balls?” Jules asked.
I slid the zipper low enough to tease, reaching my hand inside. A tangle of pubes pushed over the top of the dark blue uniform. I couldn’t hear myself think through the roar of the onlookers. Fuckers better remember to bring their cars back here next time they needed an oil change after the free show I was giving.
“Purrrfect.” Jules grinned with all her teeth. “Now spread those big thighs, Stone. Yes. Lean back, open the top more, more, more, yes. Elbows on the hood, head tilted back, eyes closed. Hawt-hawt-hawt. Now hold it, hold it, think about . . . Leelee Songchild, right between your legs.”
Of fuck. That did it. I sprang a boner in the blink of an eye, and me, like that, all spread out and horny? Click-click-click. Yeah, I was gonna have Leelee exactly this way when I won her back.
That was the last shot. Good thing too because I needed to get back to my office to make a come-shot, pretty goddamn quick. Stumbling through the emptying garage bays, I barely made it to the privacy of closed doors before I pulled out my cock with a deep groan.
Getting right down to a quick pump action on my shaft, I leaned against the desk.
A loud knock-knock hit the door.
I ignored it. My jaw clenched, my thighs shook. My cock throbbed. I was not going to be interrupted like every single time I tried to jerk off at LitLuv.
“Yo, Stone!” Ray pounded on the door.
“Motherfucker. Is the place on fire?”
“No, but—”
“Are we getting robbed?” I shouted.
“No, but—”
“‘No buts’ is right!” I cracked the door and shoved my head out. “I need five minutes, man. Five. Because my dick is gonna explode.”
Ray stood his ground. “The thing is there’s a lady outside, lookin’ for ya.”
“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me. What? Another broad who wants my autograph on her tits? One of the chicks who just watched the photo shoot?”
“All I know is she’s a hot piece in a pretty dress. You might wanna get to her before one of the guys snaps her up.” He whistled as he walked away.
I slammed the door then slammed my forehead against it. I hiked the coveralls over my hips and managed to zip up around my raging erection. Striding down the hall and behind the counter, I tied the sleeves around my hips. I’d forgotten my fucking tank top in the office.
Screw it.
Cutting through the bays, I exited the building. Sweat flashed across my skin as the sun pounded down on me.
I’d almost reached the benches hidden beyond the Coke machines when Ray leaned out behind me. “Forgot to say, killer heels, man.”
Killer heels. The last time I’d seen a pair of them was on Leelee. I didn’t reckon I wanted to see them on anyone else but her.
Jules pulled up beside me and rolled down her window. “Now we’re even.”
“What?”
She did the kissy-kissy-face-smooch thing and smiled. “Besides, I just love a perfect HEA. Don’t you?”
“Huh?”
She pointed behind me before driving off.
I swiped a forearm across my brow and turned around. I didn’t move another muscle. “Leelee?”
Chapter Seventeen
Hell in High Heels
JESUS CHRIST, LEELEE LOOKED good. Leelee looked amazing. Here. In Mt. Pleasant, at my garage where I’d hoped to have her but never expected her to show up.
Scrubbing a hand across my jaw, I groaned because I hadn’t even made a halfway decent scrape of my stubble that morning, per Jules’s instructions. I walked toward Leelee, head cocked, scoping her out.
She sauntered to me, expression unreadable, checking me out.
Her hips shifted in the tight, knee-length, call-me-secretary skirt. Her tits moved too, those nice full handfuls swaying with every step closer. Her hair loose and down her back, just the way I liked it, shimmered in the sunshine. Perspiration clung to my temples but the flush on my face came from the vision in front of me.
In four-inch, taupe, patent leather stilettos.
Hell on wheels? She was totally hell in high heels, wearing a dress that worked its way over her banging bod like my hands itched to do. The lightest yellow with lilac flowers and little sleeves that bared her shoulders, her collarbone, and a great big mouthwatering amount of cleavage. My eyes bored into her. My cock made itself known. My arms flexed, ready to grab her.
The boys hung out of the open bays like a barrel of monkeys. Their yeehaws and whistles filled the air.
Slicing my eyes sideways, I said, “Unless you wanna get fired right here, right now, get back to work and keep your traps shut.”
Leelee stopped two feet away from me. She was half-in, half-out of the shadows of the awning. “So, this is you.” Sweet as ever, rich as honey, her voice hit me in the groin.<
br />
Once again, I was reminded of my small-town business, my scruffy appearance. Jules had dirtied me up with grease stains for visual pizzazz and I hadn’t cleaned up yet, too intent on beating the come out of my cock.
I scratched the back of my neck, thinking she could’ve just tweeted me to give me the old heave-ho instead of wasting the plane fare. “Yeah.”
“Foreign auto imports?” The breeze picked up, flipping red tendrils of hair over her shoulder.
“Like I said. I lied. I’m sorry, ya know?” I stared at the low neckline of her dress, drowning in the sight of her rocking body before I met her eyes, lingering over her lips on the way up.
“Did I ever tell you how much I like the smell of a garage?” The wind changed direction, delivering her voice to me. A low, silky-rough temptation that slid like moist lips along my skin.
Oh shit . . .
Leelee came closer. Her movements were pure seduction. “How much I like a man who knows he’s a man? Who protects his woman and”—closest now, her breath warmed the hollow of my throat—“knows how to satisfy her but still has a big heart beneath all the raunchy, macho instincts?”
I couldn’t breathe except to get more of her perfume. Fuck, my brain was scrambled. I couldn’t blame it on the heat, it was all her. “What are you doing here?”
“Jules told me about the photo shoot. I had to make sure you kept your pants on.”
The dress, her body, her curves slid against me. My inhale was sharp. My fists balled beside me because I still wasn’t sure if she was real or just a mirage. Or if she was staying, or what the hell she was really saying other than maybe I did it for her.
“My pants only come off for you, babe.”
Her bottom lip pulled between her teeth before it slipped out, plump, pink, and wet. “I might just like to see that.”
A zap of testosterone sizzled up my cock. I could barely speak my voice was so gruff. “What’re you sayin’ here, Leelee?”
Her hair waved with another whistle of wind, strawberry blond heaven. I captured a strand, teasing it between my fingers. We could’ve been on an island, not on the forecourt of my shop where Peeping Toms spied on us. The sun simmered, saturated us together.
“I love you.” Clear and green, true and trusting, her gaze never wavered.
My heart flipped, it filled. So tense I vibrated on the spot, I asked, “But what about no second chance love stories?”
Shut up, Stone.
One hand lifting to caress my face, she murmured, “This isn’t a love story. It’s life. Our life.”
The second she rose up on tiptoes to kiss me, my control snapped. All the frustration, the month of distance fueled the fire to feel her. My arms caging her, my mouth crushing hers, I took it out with teeth and tongue and lips.
Short, harsh breaths flared my nostrils because I wouldn’t let her mouth go. Not ever. So goddamn good. I was one stroke away from tearing it up right here, right now.
A gasp flew from Leelee’s lips when I dove lower to her neck.
Claps came from the peanut gallery, of course, and “Way to get your woman back, Stone!”
I flipped them off, still kissing Leelee.
Her hands skimmed down my back to land on my butt. “You’re an asshole though, for what y’all did.”
I snorted. Did I give a shit? No. She was here, and I couldn’t stop grinning. And she had a point. “Been called worse, babe.”
Savoring one last, long suck of her lips, I held her by the hips and pushed her back. “I’m not exactly cleaned up here. Don’t wanna fuck up your dress.” God, she smelled like paradise, looked like a wet dream, was too good for me.
Leelee smiled. Her fingers skipped down to the crotch of my coveralls, slowly stroking. I grunted and thrust forward, but she lifted her hand off.
“I love the way you smell.” She kissed my throat. “I love your rough hands. I really love your ink.” Her tongue slid over my chest and found my nipple, toying with the flat disc until my dick almost reared through dark blue cloth. “Rip off my dress, buy a new one, get it dry cleaned, I don’t care. I need your hands on me, Stone.”
I grabbed her ass, jerking her to me. Her backside felt delicious in the dress. She’d be even better with it hiked up to her waist, panties pulled off and legs spread wide, dangling over my desk. “I need to fuck you now.”
A slow smile etched across her mouth. “Office?”
Fucking hell yes.
Clasping her hand, I led the way. The clack-clack of her heels—not that I had a frigging shoe fetish or anything—blasted fresh, uncontrollable need to my balls. Against the wall, in the hall, fuck, I’d have it all.
A zippy Merc convertible with the top down cruised into the lot and careened to a stop in front of us. Shit. Ma exited the car, zeroing in on my hand around Leelee’s.
All I wanted to do was hustle Leelee into my office, lock—no, bar—the damn door, and screw her brains out. I kept a tight hold on her hand, wondering if we could make a break for it.
I decided to cut Ma off at the pass. “Where’s the kid?”
“He’s over at Nicky’s mimi’s. I just stopped by to switch out the magazines.” She turned her back on me to beam at Leelee. “And I am so glad I did.”
I groaned. Make nice, introduce, yadda yadda. I needed to fuck!
“Ma, this is Leelee Songchild.” As if she didn’t know, Mrs. Google Fingers. “Leelee, I’d like you to meet my mother, Georgette Stone.”
“Oh lawzy!” Ma’s sterling silver hairdo swung with her head nods and handshakes. She was flustered, flabbergasted, and a bunch more f words I didn’t need to elaborate on. She finally gave up on the polite form of greeting to grab Leelee in a hug. “I have been waitin’ to meet you, girl.”
Leelee hugged her back, giggling—cute, adorable, totally fuckable. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Stone. Josh told me so much about his family.”
“Mrs. Stone. Pshaw.”
Leelee asked, “Georgette?”
Ma reached out to smack me without even looking. She had good aim. “I don’t know why he said that. Ah can’t abide by that name. Everyone calls me Gigi or Ma.”
“Okay, Gigi then.” Leelee drew closer to me and I rested a possessive hand on her waist.
“And you bein’ famous and all! Fancy that. Thank you for the book. I think your writing is delightful. A little naughty, and ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” Ma’s cheeks were pink, her eyes lively. “I never did get the full story ’bout what Josh did to make you go off mad at him in ’Lanta, I’m sure he deserved it, but I am so glad you’re here. He’s been sorrier than a bluebottle stuck in a jar of jam since he got back.”
“Well, I heard he was gay and that he and Nicky were an item,” Leelee blurted.
Aw shee-it. Now we’d never get out of here, to the office, where fucking would happen.
“Gay?” Ma’s eyebrows shot up her forehead, and then she started laughing. “Joshy? Oh, no. He’s one hundred percent red-blooded male, all about the women, judgin’ from the stories I’ve heard.”
I grouched under my breath. This was worse than pulling out naked baby photos of me.
She continued, “You know how small town gossip is.”
I harrumphed. Mt. Pleasant wasn’t a small town by any means, anymore. People just acted like it was.
Leelee was laughing it up with Ma, although at the mention of my reputation as a lady’s man, the green of her eyes turned laser sharp.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with bein’ a homosexual.” Oh, Christ, please, Ma, stop. “Take Javier over there. Queer as they come.” She waved over at him and he returned a thumbs up.
That got my attention. “What?”
“Where ya been, boy? Everyone knows it.”
They do?
Well, all righty then. Maybe Javier hadn’t minded the Stone’s Roses poster I’d stuck in his truck after all.
I tapped on my watch to get Ma’s attention. “Shouldn’t you be getting back t
o the kid?”
“Oh yes. ’Course.” She embraced both Leelee and me before standing back. “You’ll come to dinner tomorrow and I’ll drop JJ off at six-thirty tonight. Will that be enough time for you two lovebirds?”
“That’d be great, Ma. Thanks.”
I didn’t watch her pull out onto 17.
Office. Sex. Leelee. Sex.
I waved, nodded, grinned at everyone who cheered or whistled or wanted to greet the lady, telling them later. I took her behind the counter but didn’t introduce her to Ray. I told him to keep everyone out of the back hall for a half hour—no, an hour, maybe the rest of the day—and guided Leelee to my office. One hand on her lower back, my fingertips touched the swell of her ass.
The door closed, locked, chair propped under the handle for good measure, I stalked to her.
She stood by my desk, a hand on her hip. “A real lady killer around town, huh?” Heels, dress, tits and ass, eyes smoldering—green, hot. “And here all I had to worry about before was Nicky.”
“I’m not saying I’m an angel or a eunuch or whatever, but there’s been no one since you, babe. Not even Nicky.” I coughed over the last part, hoping she got my joke. I moved up to her. “No more carousing.” With my hands buried in her sunshine-warm red tendrils, I pulled her head back to kiss her neck. “All that’s over. Just you.” I kissed her mouth, dipping my tongue inside, touching and seeking, finally retreating. “I love you.”
Wicked, a temptress—that’s what she was when she pressed me back. “Clothes off, Stone.”
That I could do. Untying the sleeves of the coveralls from my waist, I attacked the zipper. I didn’t get far. Leelee placed her hands on my chest and . . . shit.
