Filthy Sweet
Page 4
On my way to the shop, I text Dad. My plan is to spend time with Dad, so I can’t get caught up in something with Moxon. Like getting in his pants.
Hey Dad! Wanna get dinner tonight? It’s been a while!
He texts back right away. Can it be a later dinner? Say seven? At Juliana’s Cafe?
I reply with a yes, and then scroll through my emails on my phone and see a new one has come in my inbox. My eyebrows raise as I read it. The distributor I sent my samples to has already sent a response.
We’d like to meet you face to face to discuss the possibility of working together. Your line of cards is fresh and has a firm understanding of what twenty-first-century customers are looking for in their greeting card purchases. We would love to invite you to Los Angeles to discuss potential acquisition opportunities.
It’s from the largest card distributor in the business, Best Regards. I press my lips together to keep from squealing in delight.
“You okay, there?”
I look up from the screen and see that the driver is looking at me in the rearview mirror. Oops, guess I let a squeal escape after all.
“I’m great. Just a little excited.” And nervous about seeing Moxon again, but I don’t tell the driver that. I put my phone in my purse and triple check that my card for him is still tucked in there safely. It is.
“Alright. Well, we’re here if you wanna get out.”
I look out the car window, heat rising to my cheeks. “Oh, sorry. I’m a little distracted today.”
I pay him and slip out of the cab, and then walk straight to the doors of the auto shop. I have nothing to be nervous about. Nothing at all.
The signage above Malone Auto is pretty ratty. Whoever made the logo, did it without any eye for design and I die a little inside when I notice the paint is peeling.
When I try to open the front door, I see that it’s locked. Shit. I look at the shop’s hours, then at my watch. They closed fifteen minutes ago. I hadn’t even thought of the time when I got the voicemail. I just got ready and jumped in the cab.
A smooth voice calls from a side entrance. “You looking for someone?”
I look over and see Moxon standing there, the same cocky grin as before on his face.
“Hey,” I say, lifting my hands in defeat. “I didn’t realize you closed at five.”
“Yeah, it’s a nine-to-five job,” he says, eyebrows raised.
My words from our first conversation replay in my mind. I want a man with a big house and a 9-5 job.
“Should I come back tomorrow?”
Instead of answering, his eyes travel up and down my body. My thighs clench together as he takes his time replying.
“No need, sweet pea,” he finally says. “I can help service you just fine.”
My eyes practically bug out of their sockets. “Excuse me?”
He laughs. “I’m just teasing you, Millie. But I can get you your keys, so you can take your baby home.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Not that the idea of Moxon servicing me doesn’t sound wonderful, but I can’t go there again. It threw me for a loop the last few days. I just need to pay my bill, give him his card, and drive away.
I follow him inside and see my Beetle sitting in the middle of a large shop.
“She looks so shiny,” I say, walking over, and running my hands over her hood.
“Yeah, I polished her up. Figured I didn’t leave you with a great lasting impression, thought maybe this could help.”
“That was sweet. And I’m sorry for things getting weird the other night. I think the emotions got to me.”
“You were feeling emotional about me?” Moxon asks with a side smile, stepping closer.
I step back. “Yeah, like, emotional over the fact I slept with a stranger.”
“I’m not a stranger.”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know your last name.”
“It’s Malone. Moxon Malone.”
I push my lips forward. “Like Malone Auto?”
He nods. “That’s the one.”
“Oh.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Oh, what?”
“Is this shop yours?”
“Yeah. Well, my brother Mike and I own it together.”
“That’s impressive.”
He twists his lips and then huffs. “Yeah, well not as impressive as a suit and tie, right?”
I swallow, my chest feels flush and I know my cheeks are burning red. “Look, I was joking when I said that. I don’t care about--”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Well, regardless, I want to apologize.”
He shakes his head and walks out of the shop and into the front lobby, I follow him watching his tight ass as he moves. Everything about him screams manly and being here, alone with him, in his shop, makes me dizzy with desire.
He plucks my keys from a rack and hands them to me. “Nothing to apologize for. I’m a fucking ass and should have thrown my phone out the window the first time I started getting booty calls.”
My lips turn up.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Hearing you say booty call is kinda adorable is all.”
He lifts his eyebrows, smiling, making his dimples pop. “Well, you walking into my mechanic shop is pretty damn adorable too.”
I feel my guard dropping all over again, just like last time we were together. It’s like we fall into step after exchanging only a few words. What is it about this man?
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I smile softly. “I brought you a card. As my way of saying I’m sorry.” I reach into my purse and hand it over.
The creamy white envelope appears small in his large hand, and I see his face instantly fall the moment he holds it.
“Oh fuck, I got it all greasy,” he says pulling a hand away and rubbing two fingers together.
“It’s fine. It’s just paper.”
Still, he sets it down and reaches for a rag in his back pocket. He wipes his hands clean, then opens the envelope. He pulls out the card and instantly his face breaks out into a grin.
“Thanks for the ride home,” he reads aloud. “I really liked your stick shift. Next time, let’s check to see if there’s room in the trunk.”
I bite down hard on my bottom lip, and he turns the card around for me to look at. There is a woman’s hand firmly holding a stick shift.
“You made this for me?” he asks, stepping forward.
I roll my eyes, pressing a hand to his chest, wanting to both sink into him and run away. I know if we get any closer, I won’t be able to stop this from happening. Already my body is piqued, wanting this. Wanting him.
And I already told him how this time is going to go.
“Turn around,” he tells me.
Sucking in my breath, I do as he asks. He runs both his hands down my sides, then squeezes my ass, and pulls me to him, hard. His cock rams into me and I know my panties are ruined.
“Oh, darlin’,” he says, growling in my ear. “There’s plenty of room for me back here.”
Chapter 9
Moxon
She walked into the shop and I was instantly hard. When she gave me this card, I was fucking floored.
She wants me from behind, and there is no hiding her desire. My cock is pressed hard against her ass, and she reaches for my hands, cupping her breasts with them.
“You came here tonight, knowing this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” I whisper, breathing warmly into her ear.
“I told myself we wouldn’t... that it was a bad idea. But…”
“But you gave me that card, honey pie. Just what did you think was going to happen when I opened it?”
Her back arches and I push a hand down the front of her pants. I move under her panties, needing to touch her warm pussy.
“I hoped it might give you a reason to forgive me.”
“There was nothing you needed to apologize for.”
“I called you a manwhore,” she moans as I pl
unge two fingers into her hot cunt.
I groan, another hand under her top, massaging her huge tit with my palm. “I was a manwhore.”
“Was?” she asks, as I begin finger-banging her hard, remembering how she liked it the other night.
“I’ve been celibate since I met you.”
“That was two days ago, Mox. Not exactly impressive.”
I laugh, spinning her around, and lifting her up onto the high counter. “I’m pretty sure you remember my cock. Two days for it, is a big fucking deal, sugar plum.”
I pull off her boot, push down her pants and panties, and kneel before her, spreading her knees.
She grips the edge of the counter. “What if someone comes in?”
I look up at her. “It’s my fucking shop and we’re closed for the day.”
I press my mouth into her warm pussy, licking her like I’ve been dreaming about for two nights straight. It’s sweeter than I remember but so fucking creamy. I roll my tongue over her hard clit and suck just the way she wants.
“Oh, Moxon,” she moans, pushing herself closer to the edge of the counter so my mouth can be buried nice and deep in her. I slide my tongue up and down her, holding her thighs with my hands and eating her nice and good.
She loves it, she threads a hand through my thick hair, forcing me to devour her. I could stay here the rest of my goddamn life, but soon my tongue is too powerful for its own good. Her orgasm is building, and she tries to clench the walls of her pussy tightly, but it’s useless. I’m taking her. Right here, right now.
I stand up, reaching for the condom in my pocket and slide it on.
“Faster,” she pants.
“It’s not fucking possible, kitten,” I tell her, my cock raging and ready. She pulls off her top, and I pull down the cups of her lacy bra, wanting her tits exposed. I pull her to me, sucking her breasts, fucking ramming my cock deep into her pussy, and making her cry out in pleasure.
“Oh, God, Mox, Oh, oh, yes!” she screams. Her tits are bouncing so nicely and I keep pounding her cunt unable to stop, just needing her so damn bad.
“Oh, pussycat,” I groan, coming deep inside her. “Oh, hell yeah.”
I finish, and so does she, digging her nails into my skin as the pleasure rolls over her.
“Moxon, what the hell was that?” she asks, catching her breath as I pull my thick shaft from her entrance.
“I know, that wasn’t the trunk. But don’t worry, angel eyes. We’ll get there before the night’s over.” I pull her close to me and she wraps her arms around my neck and our eyes lock “I’m so glad you came back.”
She licks her lips. “I had to.”
“You couldn’t stay away from me?” I lift my eyebrows. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, I literally had to come get my car.” Her face lifts with laughter and I feel a little foolish thinking she only came back here for me.
“Aw, hell,” I say, running a hand over my jaw.
“Hey,” she says, her hand on my chin, pulling my face to hers. “I’m glad you were here. What would your bother have said if I’d had handed him that card?”
Just then a cough interrupts us. Mike.
“Uh, well, I’d have said hello.”
Millie’s eyes go wide, but I just pull her close to my chest. That way my brother can’t eye her goods and I can have those tits pressed right where they belong.
“Fuck, Mike, what are you doing here?”
He laughs. “It’s my shop too you know.”
“Louisa’s not with you, is she?”
“No, thank God. Hell, Mox. Use the office if you need to knock one off.”
I feel Millie tense against me.
“Hey, wait a sec,” I say. “Can you let us dress and we’ll see you round back?”
Mike grunts and pushes himself through the door.
“Oh, god,” Millie says, covering her face. “That was your brother?”
“Yeah, and to answer your question, if he’d had gotten your card he wouldn’t know what to do with it. That SOB wouldn’t even know where the trunk is.”
“Considering you didn’t take me up on my offer, I’m guessing you don’t either.”
I shake my head; this woman constantly surprises me. She is no prude. She can be sexy and silly and make my cock go hard and my heart turn to mush.
“Oh, cupcake, I’m just waiting for the right place to bend you over.”
Chapter 10
Millie
I’m somewhat mortified, but not entirely. There’s something about being wrapped around Moxon’s hard body, my breasts pressed against his chest as he shields me from his brother’s view, that makes me feel protected, desired. His.
With Mike out of the lobby, we dress quickly, and I stop in the bathroom to wash up. Looking in the mirror, I scowl as I try to smooth my now wild hair.
“You look great,” Moxon says when I reenter the lobby. “Now let me show you off.”
He grabs my hands and pulls me to the back of the shop. “Looks good, right?” Moxon asks Mike, who is staring at my Beetle.
“It is,” Mike says. “Just like mom’s old car.”
“Your mom drove a Beetle?” I ask.
Mike smiles. “Powder blue just like yours. She died a few years back from cervical cancer. She was the only woman that truly mattered to me, until Louisa of course.”
I look over at Mox. His lips are pulled into a sad smile, and my heart swells for something I can’t name. Memories I don’t have but in this auto shop, it’s almost like I share them.
“Is Louisa your wife?”
Mike shakes his head. “Naw, Louisa’s my little girl. She’s five.” He pulls out his phone and shows me a photo of an adorable girl with bright blue eyes just like her dad.
“What a sweetie,” I say.
“I know, right? But I couldn’t do it on my own. Louisa’s mom is out of the picture, and Mox really helps me out with her, covering for me here at the shop when I need to pick her up from school or take her to birthday parties.”
I listen, trying to wrap my head around Moxon the player and Moxon the family man. “My dad was a single parent too and I always felt like the luckiest girl to have a dad who sacrificed so much for me. I’m sure Louisa feels the same way.” Remembering that I haven’t even introduced myself, I stick out my hand. “I’m Millie, by the way.”
Mike looks over at Moxon, grinning. “Oh, I know all about you.”
I raise my eyebrows. Moxon had mentioned me?
“Don’t worry. He only had nice things to say,” Mike adds. “In fact, one night out with you seems to have whipped our boy into shape.”
I want to ask more, but Moxon mentions food.
“I can only stay for a little bit, I have plans tonight.”
Moxon says he’ll take what he can get and the next thing I know I’m back in my Beetle, and the guys are in Mox’s truck.
We return to the pub we went to a few days ago but it’s a different waitress this time, but she’s scowling at Moxon all the same.
“Her too?” Mike asks after she’s taken our order and is out of earshot.
Moxon shrugs. “It was a long time ago.” He looks over at me and cocks his head to the side. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” And I mean it. I have no claim on Moxon, even if my body might say otherwise.
“So, what do you do for fun, Millie?” Mike asks when the beer arrives.
“Nothing that exciting. I work a lot, watch old movies, and take long walks on the weekend, going to bookstores and getting coffee. Maybe stopping at the farmer’s market.”
Mike grins. “Sounds just like Mox.”
“Shut up,” Moxon scowls.
“Seriously though, when is the last time you read a book?”
I get defensive for Mox for some reason. “I don’t want a man who is the mirror image of me. I don’t want to date myself.”
“If I remember correctly, you want a man who will show up on Valentine’s Day with a dozen red
roses and reservations, wearing a suit.”
I blush, feeling self-conscious. “I don’t think I said wearing a suit. And I was just teasing.” I bite my bottom lip, heat rising to my cheeks. Most woman would want those things, but I think we’d agree that aren’t necessary.
Mike smirks. “Well, Valentine’s Day is next week. You better go suit shopping, bro.”
Moxon seems to want to get off the topic as much as I do. He ignores his brother and looks back at me. “What else do you do to keep yourself busy?”
Grateful to turn the conversation away from Valentine’s Day, I smile. “I like to see my dad a few times a week, so he doesn’t get too lonely. He never remarried after my mom died and I get worried about him.”
“You grew up here?” Moxon asks, looking me over more closely.
“Yeah, Grove Park. I went to Glint Academy.”
Mike gives a low whistle. “Fancy shit.”
I twist my lips not wanting there to be a divide between us.
Moxon speaks up. “You should see the cards she designs. Millie has her own business. It’s fucking amazing.”
“Is that what you do full-time?
I nod. “Thankfully.”
Mike picks up his pint. “Your dad helps you out then? Can’t imagine cards bring in that much cash.”
I furrow my brows. If there is one thing I hate, it is a man thinking they know me when they know nothing at all. “Actually, I support myself.”
“I meant nothing by it,” Mike says, raising his hands in the air calling a truce. But it rubs me the wrong way all the same. “You know where Mox lives?”
I swallow. I don’t know where Mox lives and I hate his brother’s insinuation that I would care.
Moxon, though, just rolls his eyes. “Mike’s not always such an ass, I swear.”
“It’s okay, Moxon,” I say. The idea of him not being good enough gets farther and farther from my mind the more I get to know him. “Your brother just wants to know what kind of person I am. I can appreciate that.” Taking a deep breath, I give Mike a half-smile. “Here’s the deal, Mike. I live in a studio apartment, okay? I drive a thirty-year-old car and ordered a side of fries instead of a chicken burger because I just paid rent and money is tight. My dad may sell multi-million-dollar properties and be a member of the country club, but that’s not me.”