“That won’t be necessary. Just email Cash’s credentials along with Mr. Becker’s.” I pull the heavy bag back up onto my shoulder.
“I can’t.”
“Why?” I glance up. “Doesn’t he have credentials?”
“He does, but as I mentioned before, I miss you, Jaylyn Rigsby, and I’ve been thinking a lot about you up in here.” He taps the side of his head, drawing my eyes to his. “And I’m almost there.” He winks, and shit, what that little flick of his eye does to my body … just shameful. “However”—he wags a finger at me—“this hatred for my beautiful state has thrown me off. I find I’m taking it personally. Now, you can either agree to go with me tomorrow, or I can drag this out for a week or two. However long it might take for me to get those credentials to you. So however long you want to be in California is your choice.”
He’s not going to let this go. He’s comfortable. We’re on his turf now. Shit! You need to know when to pick your battles. “Fine. Pick me up at the Charlton Hotel at noon tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.” His brows flick. “And, if I may suggest, leave your hair down tomorrow. I’m sure you think this bun thing you got goin’ on here is professional”—he points at my updo—“but I can assure you that it isn’t around me. With your neck exposed like that, all I can think about is what your skin might taste like.” He bends forward, close to my unprotected left ear. “Please, do as I say.” His voice lowers with a hint of impotent desperation. “Don’t tempt me, Miss Rigsby. As I’ve informed you previously, once I’ve worked you out in my head, I have every intention of taking you on.” His warm breath sways over my naked, exposed neck, leaving goose bumps it its wake. “Oh, and jeans.” He rises, recovering with that damn smug grin. “I’d recommend them as well. The skirts make for easy access, not to mention, you might get a little dirty at the race track.”
Ohh! The cocky, arrogant, crude ass! “Did you ever hear of sexual harassment?”
“Why, yes, of course,” he says with astute understanding. “Look up the definition and if you can admit my advances are unwanted, then I’ll call your Human Resource Department and file the complaint myself.” He tosses his empty water bottle across the room, making it into the recycle bin with firm confidence. “I don’t make it a habit to chase after women who do not want me, Miss Rigsby. If I am mistaken and you feel threatened by me in any way, then I do apologize, and it won’t happen again.” He steps closer to me. I shake from the inside out; a hot, flushing shake that warms me between my thighs all the way up to the tips of my tweaking nipples. “Do you feel threatened, Jaylyn?”
I gaze up into his steady, patient eyes and admit, “No.” At least, my body doesn’t feel threatened, but something else, something I’ve protected for the past three years, certainly feels defenseless.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he says before leaving me standing in my vague uncertainty.
I came here ready for battle. Instead, my shield is lying on the ground, and Steele Kane, as though it was as easy as breathing, forced me to confess that I want him. Although, I did sort of start it by mentioning the sexual harassment bit, and he was, after all, required to defend himself. It’s a serious accusation. I had no right going there, but I couldn’t help myself. Piece by piece, my shield was stripped from me. So I tossed in the knife, and I’m sorry for it now. Still, he didn’t appear nicked by the jab. He simply responded by asking the one question I couldn’t answer with a lie, the situation being too serious and all.
Imbecile! I shake my head.
I need to get to the hotel and have, as the doctor ordered for times such as these, a glass of wine. I make my way back to my rental car, lugging my suitcase behind me.
I have no love for California, and I barely miss my hometown, but I like it in Chicago. People don’t want anything from me there. They’re not expecting me to outdrink every guy at a party, put a voodoo hex on their ex, or make up a dance routine to their favorite song like Lucy always did. Nor are they expecting me to graduate high school with honors while working at Del’s Diner and tutoring two nights a week. Not to mention, almost failing out of college, going broke from all the tatts I put on my body, and falling for the “wrong” guy.
My poor parents, I put them through the wringer. Don’t get me wrong, they’ve always supported my decisions, but they did it by not really supporting me at all. I’d fall, then they’d lean over me, hands on their hips with all their unconditional love bullshit, and wait for me to get my ass back up. I’m not saying it isn’t right. I get it. You need to let your kids fall occasionally. I just think I might have gotten a lot less bruises if my parents had reached out to help me every once in a while. They could’ve, at least, helped to break a couple of falls. Not that anything could have stopped my last one. Part of me is still on the ground, and now, because of Steele Kane, I’m right back where I left some of my broken parts.
I miss Trevor. I miss the way he touched my hand, cupping it with his large, safe one. No matter where we were or what we were doing, I never felt alone. I miss the way he sang really loud in the car. He had such a horrible voice. Oh, and then there was our lick wars. Nothing sexual, just an innocent game we used to play. It usually started on the cheek, and at last tally, I was in the lead. He was my best friend, and for the past three years …
God, Trev. I miss you like crazy.
CHAPTER SIX
STEELE
Like riding shotgun with Crash as he does laps around the track, watching Token throw punches in the ring, or listening to a guitar solo plucked by Stone’s gifted fingertips, my heartbeat reaches top speed when I spot Jaylyn Rigsby gallantly standing in the hotel lobby. She’s a beauty, the kind of beautiful a man doesn’t really notice until she’s slapped him hard across the face with it, but by then, it’s usually too damn late.
“Look at you trying to be a good girl, waitin’ down here and not making me chase after you.” I lean into her for a long whiff of that sweet scent that takes me back to grammar school. Ah, Lilly Armstrong, she was known for two things, jelly beans and whatever was the latest fad. I sat behind her in class, and whenever she asked me to babysit her virtual pet, I’d make her pay me in jelly beans. But only the white ones because those were my favorite. Mmm … that’s what Jaylyn smells like—jelly beans. I’m not sure what I want to do first, eat her or teach her a lesson for her insistent feisty behavior. She always looks so tense and on the defensive. The woman really needs to learn how to relax.
Man, why do I find her so, oh, I don’t know, irresistible? No, that’s not it. It’s more like she’s stranded in my head. She’s in the one place no woman would ever want to find herself for too long, but this poor gal, she doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.
She’s unshakable.
Hell, I nearly skipped to my car when I left my apartment today, knowing that I would see her again. And I can do it. I’m not talking about skipping rope. I’m talking about the kind of skipping you do down the yellow brick road. I had to learn how for a stunt in an independent film back in the 2000s, and it’s not as easy as you’d think to sway your hips and all that shit.
“Yeah.” Her plump lips thin into a small smile. “I’m hoping after today, you’ll come to understand that I’m not interested in being the object of your pursuit.”
A little too late for that. I grin. “Jeans on and hair down.” I twirl a long strand of her ebony hair around my finger. She might act like she doesn’t want it or try to fight it, but she likes the attention. “Oh yes, you are a good girl indeed.”
She swats my hand away. Not a hard swat, a light and playful one.
“Let’s get this over with.” She lifts her head and starts for the exit, exposing, what I might add, the finest ass I’ve seen covered in dark denim. I follow, watching her cute behind shift up and down. Damn, I can’t wait to put my hands on that ass.
She glances over her shoulder. I nod with a smile, imagining her bent over my knee.
She flips
her head back and continues toward the exit. I follow her through the wide front doors and point at my BMW. After an eye roll, she walks over to the passenger side and grabs the door handle. Her body jerks back.
I laugh, shaking my head. “Now”—I click the pod to unlock the doors—“what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t open the door for you?” I reach for the handle.
“The kind who knows when it’s time to give it up because he has no chance.”
“Chance or not, my mother would be very disappointed if she knew I wasn’t practicing good manners.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” She smirks.
“Really?” I open the car door. “Good to know, ’cause I’m sure there are a few other improper things I’d like to do that I don’t want my ma to know about.”
“No need to worry.” She pats me on the shoulder. “I’ll be sure not to be around for them.” She winks, before crawling into the car.
I wait for her to fasten the seat belt and look up. “Three weeks is a long time to resist me, Miss Rigsby.”
“Yes.” Her eyes lower to my mouth, chest, my fucking crotch as she reaches for the door handle. “Three weeks is a very, very long time to wait for something you’ll never, ever have, Mr. Kane.” Her eyes flash to mine, and she smiles.
I skid back as she closes the door. Chuckling all the way over to the driver’s side, I know there’s going to be a long stretch of blue balls before I get my hands on her cute little ass.
After a thirty-minute ride, we pull up to Ben’s Raceway and get out of the car. I’ve known Ben for years and so has Crash. He’s already out there burning rubber. Just like anyone else who gets the chance to see my little bro own the asphalt, Jaylyn’s fixed on the souped-up sedan tearing up the track.
“Yeah.” I stop at the fence and wrap my hands around the top, feeling the thunder from the motor. “There’s nothin’ like going zero to sixty in 2.5 seconds or doing a 180° backward. It’s the best damn adrenaline dump in the world.”
“One you don’t do any longer?”
I turn to answer and find her eyes still fastened on the racing sedan. “That’s right, not since my accident a couple of years back while shooting Chasing Red. My car flipped three times, and luckily, I ejected myself from the seat before it blew up. Scared the fuck out of me.”
“So, like water stunts, you’re done with cars too?”
“Now, I didn’t say that. Just haven’t had any reason since Crash retired from NASCAR. He has no fear when he’s behind the wheel. He loves this shit, was made for it. Besides, I’m Kip’s stunt double. Most car scenes can be done by anyone because there aren’t too many closeup shots. At least, none they can’t edit, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know. So how long have you been Kip’s double?”
“Going on five years now.”
“And how did you get into all this?”
“Stunt work?”
“Yes.”
“A lot of smooching the top dogs and years of doing all kinds of crazy shit, rock climbing, four-wheeling, boxing, MMA fighting, gymnastics, bungee jumping. Not to mention, I played every high school sport you can think of, oh, and then there’s dancing.”
“Dancing?” She finally turns her beautiful blue eyes on me.
“Yeah, I’m a hell of a dancer. It’s good for your coordination, agility, and flexibility. Helps with the ladies as well.”
“I’m sure it does, Mr. Kane.”
“Steele,” I continue to insist without her compliance. She’s so afraid of letting her guard down. Hell, half the time, I can’t get her to look me in the eyes.
“So it’s been a couple of years since you’ve gone from zero to sixty?”
“Yep.” I squint, trying to remember the exact day I nearly killed myself in that fire-red Dodge Viper. “It’s been about that.”
“And”—she grips the top of chain-link fence separating us from the track—“you’re not afraid to do it, you just don’t for the benefit of your little brother, Cash? Who I must agree is a very impressive driver.”
“Crash, and that’s right, I’m not afraid.”
She leans against the fence, peering at me from the corner of her blue eyes for a few seconds. “Show me.”
“What?” The squealing tires pull my eyes to the car as it rounds the track prior to coming to a complete stop in front of us. The dust of cloud starts to clear.
Hold up! Did she just challenge me?
“Take me zero to sixty in 2.5 seconds,” she says, dragging my eyes back to her.
Yep. She sure the fuck did. Still holding the fence, she sways back. Her long hair swings in the air, making her look more carefree, which, in turn, makes her appear more tempting, more beautiful. And here I was starting to think she couldn’t get any more kick-ass gorgeous. Fuck! She may not look me in the eyes all the time, but this sexy librarian looking, secretly tatted up, super-she-hero doesn’t seem to back down to any threat, not even a six-foot one disguised as a stunt man. Then again, what does she have to be afraid of? She has a good hold of my balls and has since the day I met her.
But, hell, is she for real? Does she really want me to take her for a spin around the track? Damn, she gets hotter by the minute, but sexy or not, she can’t have somethin’ for nothin’. That’s not how this guy works. Especially not when she has my balls in her hand. “Crash gets the job then?”
She pulls herself up straight, fixating her eyes on my little bro as he crawls out of the car, takes his helmet off, and heads our way.
“Stop by the set Wednesday morning.” She lifts her chin and smiles when Crash nods. “They need a night scene as well. I’m sure someone will email you the specs.”
“Sounds good,” he says, turning to me with his usual flat, scrawled expression.
“Crash, Jaylyn Rigsby.” I point my head at the sexy woman beside me. “Jay, Crash.” I shift my head at my little bro.
“Nice to meet you,” Jay says with a genuine smile. One I rarely receive.
Crash, the introvert nimrod, nods with a, “Hey,” back at her.
“Keys.” I hold out my hand. Crash’s head jolts back, and he shows me something he hasn’t revealed much of since he was blackballed from NASA—a smile. He tosses the keys at me. “Thanks.” I wink, easily catching them.
If the little lady wants a ride, then a ride is what she’s going to get.
“I’m heading back.” Crash nudges his head in the direction of his auto shop. Nothing unusual, there’s a lot of head nods, nudges, and grunts always coming from him.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll stop by later tonight so you can look at my Mustang.”
“Told ya before, asshole, I don’t do vintage,” he calls out as he continues toward his black Silverado.
I laugh. “See ya around eight then.”
“I’ll be gone,” he says, flipping me off as he jumps into his truck.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Where are we going?” I glance up at the high-rise, heartbeat quickening just as it did while Steele took me around the racetrack. I forgot how invigorating yet free it felt to go that fast in a car.
“Need to stop by my place.” Now at legal speed, he turns the corner, and we enter a parking lot. The huge shiny metal arm lifts, allowing us entrance to the one place I don’t want to be, Steele’s apartment. “You wanted Barry’s credentials.” His eyes snap to me, one dark brow raised. “Right?”
“You can email them, that’s fine.” I wave it off, watching the arm fall behind us in the mirror as we drive up the ramp.
“See, that’s the thing …” He taps the steering wheel with the side of his finger. “I thought I had a PDF copy but can’t seem to find it on my laptop. I tried calling him, but he’s in Colorado climbing mountains or some shit and hasn’t returned my call. Could be out of range. It’s okay, though, because I have a hard copy at my place. It’ll just take a sec.” He parks his car between an Escalade and a Benz. “We’ll be in and out.”
“I’ll wait here.” I fold my hands in my lap and nod. I’m not going into the place where he takes off his clothes! Oh God, where he has sex with women! I wonder what kind of women he’s attracted to—blondes, brunettes, loud and flashy, short, tall, athletic … stop it! I clamp my hands tighter together with another firm nod. “It’s fine.” I look over at him; maybe he likes his women quiet and shy. “I’ll stay in the car.” I take a deep breath, holding it until he finally exits the vehicle. I blow out the hot air in my lungs just as my car door swings open.
He sets his hand on the roof and smiles down at me. “I’m not leaving you in the parking lot.”
“Does this have something to do with your mother again?”
His lip quirks. “As a matter of fact—”
“You know what,” I cut him off. As charming as the whole mother mentions have been, this man can’t sway me again. Cute or not, my body must accept that it cannot have him. “We can get them when he comes to the set. He’ll be at the set on Thursday as discussed?”
“Yes. Ronnie, his girlfriend, will make sure of it. She likes spending his paychecks.”
“Well, great. Problem solved.” I grin. Thank you, Ronnie! “He can bring them with him then.”
“No.” He shakes his head.
“No?” My grin dissolves.
“Yeah, no. Sorry but we can’t count on that happening. Barry’s very forgetful when it comes to shit like that. Hell, he probably forgot his cell when he went out for his climb this morning, and that’s why he’s not returning my calls. Come on.” He stretches a hand out to me. “It’ll take but a few minutes.” His head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing. “That is, unless”—his eyes pinch with a flash of mischief—“you’re afraid to be alone with me? Is that it, Jay? Afraid ya won’t be able to stop yourself? Afraid you might try to take advantage of me in my apartment?”
Steele Page 4
