Risky Pleasures

A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

Risky Pleasures

ISBN # 978-1-78184-365-9

©Copyright McKenna Jeffries and Aliyah Burke 2013

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright June 2013

Edited by Rebecca Douglas

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a
heat rating
of
Total-e-sizzling
and a
sexometer
of
1.

This story contains 101 pages, additionally there is also a
free excerpt
at the end of the book containing 9 pages.

McKingley

RISKY PLEASURES

McKenna Jeffries and Aliyah Burke

Book three in the McKingley series

After years of attraction, is it worth the risk?

Delicia Wright is an EMT in her hometown of McKingley, New Mexico. A confident young woman who could handle anything life threw at her, or so she believed. How conveniently she forgot the one man in town who could turn her into a babbling idiot. He was a hard man to forget, but she managed to put him in the back of her mind, along with all her fantasies of the two of them.

Archer Bennett is a through and through blue-collar man who has callouses on his hands and—most of the time—grease under his nails. He knows hard work. Unfortunately for him, the woman he desires above all else was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and to some of her family he would always be ‘the boy from the wrong side of the tracks’. So for now, all he can do is observe her from a distance.

When the opportunity arises he makes known his attraction to her and is ecstatic to know she feels the same. But with interfering family and a past that seems destined to return and bite him, can Archer convince her the best pleasures are risky pleasures?

Dedication

To my big sis your strength and grace makes you my hero. With you by my side I know anything is possible.

—McKenna Jeffries

To all the unsung heroes, thank you, for all that you do. To my husband and friends who always have the encouragement when I need it most.

—
Aliyah Burke

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

The Black Eyed Peas: The Black Eyed Peas

Ferrari: Ferrari S.p.A.

Jeep: Chrysler Group LLC

Coke: The Coca Cola Company

Ninja: Kawasaki Heavy Industries, Ltd.

CL600: Mercedes-Benz

Chapter One

Delicia Wright kept her breathing even as she pounded along the trail. The early spring air helped her stay cool and, given the low humidity in New Mexico, the sweat dried almost immediately. A swift glance to the watch on her right wrist told her she was on pace with her self-imposed time.

Seven more miles to go.
Come on, we can do this
, she gave herself the usual pep talk. The upbeat music of The Black Eyed Peas played in her ears as she continued the remainder of her fifteen mile run. She could feel her body begin to tremble with exhaustion.

Suck it up, Delicia. If you wanted easy, we wouldn’t be training for a triathlon
.

She lost herself in the rhythmic feel of her feet stomping along the hard-packed dirt trail. Tired, hot and sweating, she checked her time when she reached the end of her run. Hands on her hips, she walked herself around to cool her body down. This was her year to do better. She’d trained harder than ever before, going farther than the actual triathlon would be.

It was three months away.
And I’m ready
. A satisfied smile turned up her lips as she moved to her bike. She entered the combination before unfastening the cable from where it secured her bike to the tree then stowed it before slowly straddling the bicycle. Delicia fastened her helmet and sighed. She pulled her water bottle from the back of her jersey, drank some then placed the container on the bike.

“Time to get home for a shower. And some food.”

She removed one ear bud to hear traffic. Foot on the pedal, she pressed on it and looked up when a large truck drove by, then backed up to turn in the entrance to the pull off for the trailhead. She stared at the vehicle when it pulled before her. A white quad cab Dodge Dually.
Shit!

The passenger window lowered and she found herself staring at a man who’d always made her feel like a babbling idiot. Archer Bennett. Country music poured from the cab and she fought off a shiver when he dipped his head to the side, exposing those damnable indigo eyes of his from behind his dark brown hair. Not black like a lot of people thought—it was just very dark brown.

Delicia hadn’t any clue why he affected her this way. It was just how it was.

“Mornin’, Delicia,” he said, in that unhurried way of his which never failed to make her toes curl and skin tingle.

Dah-lish-a
was how it sounded—damn near X-rated coming from his mouth. Almost everyone else called her Lis. Not him. The rare times they ran into each other and he would speak to her, it was Delicia.

“Archer,” she replied.

He remained silent while his gaze travelled over her sweaty body. Before she knew what had happened, he stood before her. Six feet tall, hard muscular body, dark brown hair and those blue eyes. His torn jeans moulded to his legs and he wore a white shirt, which only amplified his tanned skin and the strength of his upper body.

“Come on,” he uttered.

She stared at his hand. Long, strong fingers, short, square nails. Swallowing, she looked back up at him.

“What?”

“You look like you’re about to fall over. I’m giving you a ride home. Now either get off the bike or I’ll remove you from it.”

A thousand things ran through her mind to say. She should protest. She should stay on the bike just to have him put his hands upon her. But she didn’t. With a nod, she got off the bicycle and removed her helmet. Archer stepped forward, effortlessly lifted it and carefully placed it in the bed of his truck. Then he took the helmet and dropped it in there as well.

“Get in,” he said, without looking back at her.

Delicia didn’t move, just stared at the way he filled out his jeans. Her core temperature skyrocketed. Heart pounding even faster than before, she licked her lips and barely stopped herself from stepping closer and touching him—just to see if he was truly as hard as he looked.

He looked over his shoulder at her and in the depths of his eyes she saw a sparkle.
It’s like he knows I was checking him out
. Archer turned completely and leaned against the side of his truck, crossing his arms. A move which highlighted the strength in them.

“Something on your mind, Delicia?”

Hell yeah. A lot. Like you n’ me doing the horizontal mambo right here. Or even in the back of your truck.

She shrugged and shook her head. “Nope.” Swallowing her fear she asked, “Should there be?”

A flame flickered in his eyes before he sent her a slow, sensual grin. “Could be. Come on, I have to get to work.”

A sharp retort was on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it back. She truly was exhausted and appreciated the ride. He held the front door for her and she walked towards him.

“Thank you,” she said, slipping past him and onto the leather seat.

“My pleasure.” His murmured reply followed her in.

Archer closed the door and was soon positioned behind the wheel. She buckled herself in while he did the same and smoothly shifted into gear to get them back on the road towards McKingley.

A few miles passed in silence and Delicia spent the time wishing she weren’t damp with sweat, and that she had the ability to talk to him without sounding like a total moron. It didn’t make sense—she never seemed to have this issue with any other man. Richer men than Archer. Men in top of the line suits. Cover model types, it didn’t matter. But along came Archer in his torn jeans, grease-smeared shirt, hiking boots and baseball cap, and suddenly she couldn’t say more than four words without sounding like an idiot.

Archer Bennett was the owner of the largest towing company in McKingley—Bennett’s Towing. It was also an auto shop. He had been working there since forever and had been driving a tow truck since he was sixteen. When he turned twenty-four—four years ago—his father had retired and he’d taken over. She couldn’t help but be impressed by the way he’d worked so damn hard for what he’d accomplished.

Archer Bennett was a frequent visitor to her dreams, but Delicia hadn’t ever told anyone. She was three years younger than him and he’d been someone she’d admired from afar. When she’d gone to school functions, he hadn’t been able to attend because he’d gone home to work. She took a deep breath and fought the urge to squirm as the scent of Archer filled her nose.

“Delicia?” Archer’s warm, silvery voice broke into her wandering thoughts.

“Huh?”
Yep. Did I say I sound like an idiot around this man?

“I asked if you were going to your house or wanted me to drop you off somewhere else.”

“Umm. Let’s go home.” Heat flared up her cheeks. “The house. I mean, take me to my house.”

“Your house it is,” he uttered.

Delicia looked out of the window and prayed her embarrassment would fade.
What is it about him?
After a few more miles with only the music as a buffer against the quiet between them, she glanced at him. Her heart pounded harder and she felt a bit short of breath.

His left hand was on the wheel, his arm against the door. His right hand rested upon his leg while his bow-shaped lips moved as he sang quietly along with the music. Brown hair hung around his chiselled features giving him a rakish look. He had long curled lashes, then there were his eyes. Indigo. A vibrant, deep indigo.

“Hmm,” he said turning so their eyes met. “You’re staring again. Trying to make me self-conscious?”

She dropped her gaze. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologise for.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reach for the gearshift and curve those long fingers about the red flame on black knob.
What would his hands feel like on me?
Lifting her head, she noticed he was pulling into her driveway.
Wait, how does he know where I live?
Capturing her lower lip in her teeth, she unbuckled her belt and slipped from the interior, seconds after he put it in neutral and set the brake. She heard the door close as he got out of the truck.