Crashed (Entangled Indulgence) (4 page)

“That you’ve
officially
lost your mind and crossed over to the dark side?”

He brushed his thumb across her jaw, and she leaned in, swaying a little closer. He didn’t even think she was aware she was doing it. Her body was saying the opposite of that smart mouth. She couldn’t hide the way he affected her, no matter how hard she tried.

“No.” He dipped his head so his mouth was half an inch from hers, close enough he could feel the way her warm breath rushed from between her parted lips. “It means I can kiss you…whenever I want.”

But he didn’t. He waited, needing her to close the gap, to show him she wanted this as much as he did. Her hands went to his shoulders, fingers digging in, and she pushed. There was no real feeling behind it, so he held his ground.

Alex stood there, breath coming harder, faster.

Shit.
His gut twisted.

Just when he thought it wouldn’t happen and this whole plan had been the biggest mistake of his life, that Alex didn’t want him and he’d have to give her up and walk away, she stopped pushing, gripped the front of his jacket, and going up on her tiptoes, tugged him closer.

Her lips collided with his, and as soon as they did, she whimpered into his mouth.
Yes.

He kissed her like he’d been aching to for months, and she returned it just as fiercely, her tongue sliding against his in that amazing uninhibited way he would never get enough of.

He slid his hands from her waist up to her beautiful breasts, and she made a strangled sound but pushed closer. He lightly nipped her lower lip, and she kissed him back harder, thrusting her fingers into his hair, and held him there so he wouldn’t stop. God, her reaction to his touch made his dick strain and his balls ache. How would he get through dinner with her right beside him?

He brushed his thumbs across the hardened peaks of her nipples and nearly came in his pants when he felt the small bar that went through the right one. He groaned and tore his mouth from hers. “Fuck, Alex. You’ve had your nipple pierced?”

She was still clutching his jacket and sucked on his lip before answering. “Yeah, and my belly button.”

Deacon slid his arms under her ass, lifted her off the floor, strode to the living room, and deposited her on the couch. If he took her to his room, they’d never leave the apartment. He could cancel his business dinner, but he didn’t think that was the best idea. As much as he wanted her, and he did, painfully so, he knew rushing things wouldn’t help his cause where Alex was concerned.

One taste before they left would have to do.

“What are you doing?” she asked, voice breathless, needy.

His answer was to drop to his knees in front of her. “One taste, Alex. Just one.” She sucked in a breath when he slipped a thin strap off her shoulder and pulled down her dress to reveal one perfect pink nipple. A metallic purple bar pierced the delicate flesh, which puckered further under his heated gaze.

“Do you have any idea how hot that is?”

She lifted her chin and smirked. “I’ve been told once or twice.”

Was she trying to piss him off? Hurt him? More than likely. The idea of another man seeing her like this, touching her, drove him insane. “Well, for the next three months you’re mine, Alex. Nobody else sees you like this. Do you understand?”

He brushed his thumb over the peak again. This time without her dress covering her, and she gasped. “It’s not like you’ve given me any other choice.”

“Exactly, so don’t fight it. Enjoy what I can do for you, what we can do for each other.” He bent down and sucked the purple bar into his mouth. The metal was warm from her body heat, and he groaned. He swirled his tongue, sucking hard, then tugged on her tender flesh while he continued to stroke the other one through her dress.

He glanced up. “Do you like that? Do you like it when I tug the barbell in that perfect little nipple?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

Her fingers were in his hair, and she fisted it almost painfully as she held him to her. She was still fighting it, fighting the way he made her feel. She squirmed, and he knew she was already wet for him. He shoved her dress higher so he could get between her legs.

Spreading her thighs, he pulled her to the edge of the couch so he had better access and rubbed his erection against her hot center. “Shit, Alex. You can feel it, can’t you, feel it between your thighs, deep inside, when I suck you into my mouth?” She wrapped her legs around his waist and kept him where she wanted him.

“Yes.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

She nodded, whimpering.

Shit. He sucked harder and ground against her. He could feel her heated flesh through his trousers but resisted the urge to free his dick, shove her panties aside, and fuck her hard right then and there. He didn’t want to rush this. He wanted to take his time, to savor her.

He palmed her ass and thrust against her, while he squeezed the other breast and gave the bar in his mouth another sharp tug.

She cried out, coming apart in his arms. He wanted to hear his name on her lips, but it was only a matter of time, he’d make sure of it. She yanked his hair again, holding him against her until her cries died and her body went soft and pliant.

He pulled back and looked down at her. So beautiful. “Next time I plan on watching you when you come.” It took serious self-control, but he lifted her straps back up, pulled her dress down over her thighs, and sat back on his heels. “We need to get going.”

Cheeks flushed and bottom lip swollen from biting on it, she looked adorable and sexy and confused as hell. She glanced down at the front of his pants and arched a brow. “You can’t go out in public like that.”

He chuckled, then kissed her lush mouth one more time because he couldn’t stop himself. “I have the drive to get myself under control. Maybe you can take care of it when we get back?”

Yeah, she liked that idea. It was written all over her face, even if she tried to hide it.

She shrugged. “Up to you if you want to go out with a boner like some creepy old perv.”

“I’m only three years older than you.”

Her red lips lifted in a cheeky grin, and his gut twisted. “Yeah? Well, you look much older.”

He laughed and pulled her off the couch. “Come on, you little deviant. Let’s go get this dinner over with. I’m not close to being finished with you.”

Her smile slipped, and she crossed her arms.

He tugged her closer. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” She pushed past him and strode to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

He grabbed her hand before she walked out the door without him. He wouldn’t let her put distance between them, not ever again. Tonight was only the beginning.

He just had to convince her to take a chance and love again.

Chapter Four

Oh my God, I’m a complete and utter slut.
So much for making him work for it. She would have dropped her panties right there in his living room after the orgasm he’d given her. Her face heated. How would she survive this?

She was supposed to resist, be strong—instead she’d wrapped her legs around his hips and rubbed up against him like a dog in heat until she got off.

Martin was waiting for them by the Mercedes when they came down from the apartment. He stepped forward as they approached and opened the door for her, which made her feel uncomfortable. Since when did a mechanic’s son, who’d spent half his life in coveralls with grease on his hands, need someone to open his damn door?

She looked at Deacon, who still had hold of her hand even though she’d tried to wrench her fingers free from his grasp several times. “Why the hell do you need a chauffeur?” She heard Martin chuckle under his breath as she climbed in. “Shit, sorry, Martin.”

Martin winked and went around to take the driver’s seat.

Deacon slipped an arm around her waist and slid her closer to him in the backseat. “Martin’s driving us tonight so I can focus all my attention on you.” His hand took hers and then rested them on his solid, warm thigh. The muscle beneath jumped and things down below started to fire up all over again. She tried to slide her hand out from under his.

“Give it up, Alex. I’m not letting you go.”

Great.
She needed some distance, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. And sitting here, plastered together, while his fingers lightly stroked her waist was starting to get her all hot and bothered. “So who are these old farts we’re meeting tonight?” It was the unsexiest thing she could think of in that moment.

He smiled, all masculine gorgeousness. And dammit, that set off some more happy tingles down south. The guy had a killer smile, always had, and he knew how to use it. “What makes you think Jarrod’s an old fart?”

“Aren’t all you business types a pack of premature-aging stuffed suits?” She congratulated herself when his eyes narrowed at her.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against her ear. Did he know how much she loved when he kissed her there, how much it affected her? “You’ll pay for that when we get back to my place. I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.”

She swallowed hard and turned to look out the window. All the witty comebacks she’d had swirling in her head went
poof
, vanished into thin air with those huskily spoken words. She squeezed her thighs together, the tingles upping their assault, and squirmed in her seat.

Deacon’s soft laugh drifted over her, like he could read her mind, like he knew exactly how much she wanted him despite her attempts to convince him otherwise. Arrogant prick. She swiveled around and socked him in the arm.

“Hey.” He held up both hands. “What was that for?” He rubbed at his shoulder, and his bottom lip popped out. And all she could think was that she wanted to lean in and suck on it, lick it. Dammit. If mind bleach was a thing, she’d totally wash him from her memories. Erase the day she’d ever laid eyes on Deacon West.

“Just stop acting like an ass. And FYI, you can’t pull off cute, so stick your lip back in.”

He reached down and squeezed her ass. “Fine, I’ll stick with what I do best.”

Hand finally free, she quickly crossed her arms so he couldn’t get hold of it again. He shrugged and rested his big, warm hand high on her thigh instead. That was so much worse. She made a note for future reference.

When they got to the restaurant, Deacon took hold of her hand again as soon as she stepped out of the car. This time she didn’t try to pull free—there was no use, and besides, the jerk would probably grab her ass as an alternative.

But that wasn’t the only reason, and though she’d never admit it to him, she was nervous about meeting these bigwig business types. What could she possibly have to talk about with people like that? The only thing she knew about were cars, and she doubted the suits Deke hung with had the first clue what was under the hood of their expensive sports cars, let alone could dream of getting grease under their manicured fingernails.

The woman at the door led them to the back of the room. The only person there was a guy about Deke’s age.

“Jarrod,” Deacon said and walked straight over to him. She should have guessed. He was all suited up the same. They looked like a couple of Ken dolls in their dark suits and slicked-back hair. “Good to see you.”

Jarrod took his hand in a firm shake. “Glad you could make it.”

Deacon slid his arm around her waist. “This is Alex.”

Jarrod took her hand, lifting it to his mouth. “Lovely to meet you, Alex.” He gave her a crooked grin, one she suspected got a lot of women to drop their panties, and pressed his lips to her skin. Yeah, he was a good-looking guy, but she suspected he knew it, too.

“You, too.” She pulled her hand free, and his grin upped in wattage.

They took their seats, and the guys started talking. Which was pretty much how it continued for the next hour. All in all, the evening was going better than she’d thought it would. They mainly ignored her while they talked business. And since she had no clue what they were going on about, or why Deacon had bothered to bring her in the first place, she spent the time people watching and enjoying the free food and alcohol.

“So, what do you do, Alex?”

It took her a moment to realize Jarrod was talking to her. It seemed the business portion of dinner was over.
This should be good.
She plastered a smile on her face. “I’m a mechanic. Me and Deke’s sisters own a garage on Axle Alley.”

Deacon shifted beside her but said nothing, while Jarrod stared at her like he was waiting for the punch line. When she kept her trap shut and he realized there wasn’t one coming, he shook off his stupor and served up his panty-dropping smile again. “Wow. That’s an unusual occupation for a woman.”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

“What kind of work do you do?”

“Beside the run-of-the-mill, bread-and-butter stuff, we want to eventually specialize in classic car restoration. We’ve done a few already, and we’ve got several more big jobs lined up.”

Deacon turned to her. “Do you?”

“Yeah.”

Before he could ask any more questions, Jarrod cut in. “I actually have a car that needs work. Maybe I should bring it in, see what you can do?”

The conversation turned to cars, which she’d happily talk about all night, and by the time she’d finished telling Deacon’s business associate what they could do for him, another hour had passed. Deacon had barely said a word in all that time.

Was he pissed at her for hijacking his dinner?

When Jarrod asked her another question, Deke dropped a hand on her shoulder and cut in. “It’s getting late. I think we’ll call it a night.”

“Right. I hadn’t realized the time.” Jarrod turned back to her. “We should do this again sometime. You’re so passionate about what you do. I could listen to you talk about it all night.” He didn’t even glance at Deke when he said it.
Oops.

“Um, yeah. Sure.”

Deacon grabbed her hand and stood abruptly. “Okay. See you next Wednesday, Jarrod.” Then he strode through the restaurant, towing her behind him. Keeping up in four-inch heels was no easy task, not when she was used to wearing steel-toed boots.

She tugged on his hand. “Slow the hell down, or I’ll fall on my ass.”

He did as she asked but didn’t look back at her. When they hit the street, he called Martin, asked him to pick them up, then stared silently ahead, jaw like granite.

After a few minutes the silence became unbearable. “What the hell’s your problem?” she said to his steely profile, though she thought she had a good idea.

He scowled down at her. “Are you serious?”

She gave him her best what-the-hell-crawled-up-your-ass expression and crossed her arms, needing space. “Yeah, I’m serious.”

He didn’t take the hint and stepped closer. “You really don’t know what my problem is?” His voice had gone all deep and growly.

And of course, as always when he got like this, her happy places got a whole lot happier. Which was insane and just plain wrong. She ignored her aching nipples and the pulse between her thighs and fired back, “No. But you’re acting like a dick.”

“I may as well not have been in the room, that’s what my problem is. You were all over fucking Jarrod Prescott like cheap perfume.”

She lurched back. “Me? All over Jarrod?”

His nostrils flared when she said the other man’s name. “Like plastic wrap,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Jesus, you’re acting like I jumped in his lap and took a ride on the guy’s disco stick. We were talking business, Deacon. Just like you did before me. That job could be worth a lot of money, and anyway, you had no problem ignoring me while you two talked about whatever the hell you were droning on about.”

He thrust a hand in his hair—the slicked-back look was gone, and his hair fell over his forehead, the way she liked it. “We have a deal, Alex. You don’t sleep with anyone but me. If you want to renege, fine, I’ll call the valuers tomorrow and reschedule.”

She winced inwardly. “You wouldn’t.”

He wrapped his fingers around her biceps. “Try me.”

A red haze clouded her vision. Was he for real? “When did you become such a raging asshole? No, really, I want to know. Do you think I’m some mindless skank who’ll fuck anything with an available dick? That I’m so desperate, a guy only has to talk to me, show me a tiny bit of attention, and I’ll jump into bed with him?”

“Alex.”

She ignored the warning in his voice and shoved at his chest. The bastard wouldn’t let her go. She shoved again, struggled to get away. He grabbed her wrists, trapping them between their bodies, pulling her in even closer.

“Stop.” His voice was like a whip cracking through the night, and she immediately stopped fighting. His gaze bored into her, intense, but there was a softness there as well. She wanted to keep on struggling, to get away from that look in his eyes, but he was having none of it. “That’s not what I meant.” He let out a harsh breath. “I let my temper get the better of me. I apologize.”

He could be unreasonable and irrational at times, she knew that all too well, but this was extreme even for him. She wanted to say more. Instead she bit her lip before she said something to make it worse, which was not easy. She refused to give him a reason to sell the garage out from under them.

“Whatever.” She tested his hold, and he let her wrists go but kept her plastered to his side.

“I’m sorry, Alex. I overreacted. I know I can be…possessive.” He stared down at her and just like that, the softness vanished, green eyes going intense, hard. “I need to know we understand each other?”

He was back to Mr. Chill. Good. The way she preferred him. He was so much easier to dislike when he was like this. “Yeah, we understand each other just fine.”

Martin chose that moment to pull up beside them, thank God, cutting off further conversation. They climbed in, and Deacon stayed quiet—silently stewing, no doubt—the entire drive. When they arrived at his building, she expected him to have Martin drive her home.

But when he climbed out, he pulled her out after him.

Was he serious? “But I thought you’d…” He shook his head in a silent warning. “You want me to come up?” Her voice quavered at the end, and she hated it.

He leaned in and pinned her to the side of the car with a dark, hungry look. “We still have a deal, yes?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then let’s go.”

Alex followed him into his building. He didn’t wait and strode toward the elevator. Her mouth went dry, heart lodging in her throat, and the relentless pulse between her thighs turned into a bass drumbeat, so strong she ached.

Holy shit.

…

Deacon didn’t look back. He knew Alex was following.

And right now, he couldn’t look at her. He was too damned pissed off. If he looked at her now, he’d say something else he knew he’d regret later. That list seemed to be growing by the hour around her. She pushed every one of his buttons and enjoyed the hell out of every damn minute of it. She was right, of course. He was acting like a total dick, but he couldn’t rein it in, not yet, not when he’d been forced to sit there while another man all but fucked her with his eyes.

The only thing he could think about was wiping Jarrod from her mind. Making her come so hard, the only man she could think about was him.

The elevator slid open, and he stepped inside and pushed the button to hold the door while Alex caught up. Her dark eyes avoided his when she walked in, and she stood an arm’s length away. The doors slid shut, and he reached out and slid his hand under her hair, around the back of her neck, and pulled her in close. Her soft curves crushed against his side, and he almost groaned aloud when he felt her hard little nipples against his abs.

She planted her hands on his chest and tried to pull away, but he refused to let her go. He threaded his fingers deeper into her hair and massaged the back of her neck. Her breathing grew choppy, and her pulse fluttered madly under her golden skin. He thought he already knew the answer, fucking hoped he did, but still he asked, “Do you want me, Alex?”

She wouldn’t look at him, didn’t answer. She had no idea how badly he wanted to hear her say the words, how long he’d waited to hear them from her again.

He leaned in, flicked her ear with his tongue, and bit down on the delicate lobe gently. “Does the idea of my mouth on you make you wet?”

Nothing.

Oh, nothing came out of her mouth, but her body said all there was to know. Her nipples were stiff against the fabric of her dress, and he could see the way she squeezed her thighs together, the way she bit her lip. Still, her silence made him a little desperate. No, it terrified him. Made him doubt himself. Had this whole thing been a huge mistake? Had he ruined everything?

So much for taking this slow, coaxing her gently. But dammit, it was impossible when she was within touching distance. She made him insane with wanting her so bad. She made him insane, period.