Sweet Affection (Truth Book 3) (12 page)

His eyes go straight to my breasts when I lean over and place my hands either side of his head. He grips my thighs, then rolls his hips upwards so his denim covered cock is pressing into my most intimate place.

“I’m meeting a potential client in Birmingham at midday. So I can give you another six hours.” I roll my hips to meet his, and bite my lip at the friction that’s making my clit throb and pulse with the need to be satisfied.

“Do you want to sleep?” I whisper, concerned he’s just driven two hours in the middle of the night to make sure I’m okay.

His hands move to my ass and press me down even further onto his cock, then creep under my vest, rising to cup my bare breasts.

“I want to sink inside my girlfriend for the next five hours, then sleep for the last one. Sound good?”

I squeal with laughter when he flips me onto my back and covers my body with his.

“Sounds perfect.”

Chapter Seven

Laurel

I shut off the heater and roll down the window to let the cool air inside. I need it desperately to keep myself awake. My tired eyes try to close but I shake my head vigorously and sit up straight to avoid getting too comfortable. I feel like I’ve been in the car for days, but as I glance down at the clock, I realise it’s actually only been two hours. It’s Friday afternoon and I decided to leave Manchester earlier to beat the rush hour traffic. I quickly turn the radio up and start singing to Beyoncé’s
Partition
to distract myself.

I turn on to the country roads that will lead to Stamford, and glance again in the rear-view mirror. My eyes narrow when I see a motorcycle, practically pressed up against the window. The road is narrow, definitely not for overtaking unless maybe you’re stuck behind a tractor doing ten miles an hour. The dickhead is so close to my bumper it looks like he’s actually in the car with me.

Usually I’m calm and collected and road rage has never got the better of me, but now I can feel the giant ball of irritation bouncing around inside, trying to break free. What if I had to suddenly stop? If a little kid ran into the road and I had to hit the brake to avoid hitting it? Some sick, twisted part of me would love to try it and see what the asshole does. The engine revving brings my attention back to the mirror and I see his hand moving. I roll my eyes. He wants me to move over and let him past. Hmm, shall I?

I don’t think so.

He can wait.

I go back to singing, deciding it’s best to ignore him. His engine keeps revving and cutting through the beat of the music. I’m never going to be able to concentrate until he’s gone, so I move over to the side of the road and slow down to let him past.

What a jerk.

I watch as the motorcycle comes storming up my right hand side and I suck in a breath at the sheer power of it. I’ve never even been this close to one. Never been bothered before. But it’s actually pretty cool. The rider turns his head towards my window and salutes, before raising the front of the bike up in a wheelie, then accelerating off into the distance. There’s something incredibly sexy about a motorcycle. Something I never realised before. That guy was probably a mid-fifties, bearded, tatted lager lout, but the bike was incredibly hot. All sleek design, hot metal and shiny paintwork. I sit back in the seat and wonder how I could get James on the back of one. There’s definitely a fantasy there I’ve only just tapped into.

Well, damn! Thank you Mr Asshole.

Maybe there was actually something good to come of that little encounter.

My phone beeping snaps me out of my little daydream. I look over at my phone on the dock, speaking of the Sex God himself. I’ve perked right up now, all thoughts of sleep far from my mind.

Solve for x: 192y - (62*84) = 12x + 45y

Huh? He’s such a freaking weirdo. Clearly the text was not meant for me. I pull over onto the petrol station forecourt and edge slowly up to the pump. I cut the engine, grab my bank card and keys, then type out a quick reply.

Wtf??

I climb out the car, sliding my phone into my back pocket, and nudge the car door shut with my hip. A loud rumble reaches my ears. Another bike. I look round as I pick up the pump and see the same idiot who passed me earlier pull onto the forecourt too. I can’t miss the bright red paintwork. He pulls up to the pump the other side of mine and slows. My mind’s focused on the bike but my eyes can’t help their own little assessment of the rider too. He flips the kickstand with his foot, then swings his leg over the back of the bike. He pulls off his helmet and I want to laugh at my earlier statement. There’s no beard, and definitely not mid-fifties. He must be at least six feet, mid-twenties and no sign of lager lout either; perfect six pack is more likely. He runs a hand through his dark hair to unflatten it, and my eyes drop immediately to the pump when he turns.

God, the last thing I want is for him to notice and remember me.

Once the nozzle’s in the fuel tank, I lean my side against the car while I wait, and chance a quick look over my shoulder at the biker.

It takes me a few seconds to realise that he’s not moving. His whole body is facing in my direction and his eyes are slowly making their way down my body and back up again. It’s completely shameless; he’s making no attempt at hiding it. When his eyes reach mine, I glare right at him. Maybe once upon a time I would have enjoyed a guy like him being so open about his heated inspection, but now it gets me riled up. I raise an eyebrow at him, confirming I did in fact catch him doing it and the corners of his lips turn upward. That is not what I was aiming for.

I don’t want him to be entertained.

I want him to be remorseful.

His body moving snaps me out of our stare-off, then I realise he’s actually coming over here. Shit, he obviously thought I was coming onto him. I know I look more than a little alarmed because one corner of his mouth lifts even higher in a smirk.

He reaches me in all of about four seconds with his long strides, and places his arm on the roof of my car, cockily leaning his side against the trunk. Silence permeates the air around us. His is amusement, mine is irritation. A click is the only sound I hear, and it tears my eyes away from his and down to the pump in my hand.

“I think that means you’re full, grandma.”

My confused eyes fly back to his.
Grandma, what the hell?

“You were doing forty on a sixty back road. No other cars about.
Grandma.”
He shrugs, still grinning.

I narrow my eyes, completely offended at his insult and put the pump back with more force than necessary. He continues to watch me as I put the cap back and shut the cover. That road is the same road that Cassie’s parents had their car accident. Sure, it was at the hands of another driver, but I don’t leave anything to chance now and take it as slow as I can get away with.

“Just because I don’t drive like a maniac, doesn’t mean I’m a
grandma.”
I bring my hands to my hips and tap my foot out of frustration.

He seems to enjoy this, because the smile only widens, and he crosses his arms, leaning his back against my car.

“You were going too slow. It wasn’t safe which is why I was trying to get you to speed up,
Grandma
.”

“Says you, who spent at least ten minutes riding up my backside. That’s not safe.” I spit out. When I see his eyes drop down to my ass and his eyebrow rise along with the corner of his mouth again, I realise my faux pas, and dig my finger nails into my palms.

“Ugh, you’re disgusting.” I bite out. “You know I didn’t mean that so why are you even thinking it?”

He runs his tongue along his bottom lip and looks back up to my eyes. They’re filled with hunger, lust and it only fuels my anger.

“Stop.” I point at him. “Stop thinking. Right now.”
He chuckles, and shakes his head. “You can’t look the way you do, say what you just said, and expect it to not even cross my mind, sweetheart. I’m a man, it’s how we’re wired.”

I growl out loud and I’m just about to respond when my phone beeps. I take it out my pocket and swipe the screen. James.

You make me harder than algebra ;-)

I snort. I have a habit of doing that lately. He’s such a goofball. How did he even get girls before with lines that lame?

“Boyfriend?” The voice asks, and I realise Mr Asshole is still in front of me, watching me with an unreadable expression. A little hint of jealousy, maybe? I guess I just ruined his plans then.

“Yep.” I say, popping the p. “I’d like to say it’s been great talking to you but it really hasn’t. Adios.”

He smiles again, straightening from the car, and catches my eye before I turn away.

“Adios,
abuela.”

He chuckles, walking back over to his bike, and I carry on walking inside to pay. So he knows Spanish? I wonder what he said.

Huh, Spanish is definitely sexy.

I’ve been pestering James to get one of those CDs to learn it for a while. At least then, one of us will know the language when we go and visit his dad. That reminds me, I need to confirm James’ birthday present.

I fire out a quick text.

All set for the Spanish Invasion?

That’s what we’ve been calling this little covert operation. I get a reply almost immediately.

We’re at the airport now. All on time. Can’t wait to meet you.

I smile at that, and rush around the store, gathering a few last minute bits for tonight. By the time I’m out the door, the bike is gone and I can breathe a sigh of relief that I don’t have to deal with him again. The ride back is a lot more relaxing, although every now and again I find myself checking the car’s speed to make sure I’m not going too slow. Then I kick myself mentally for letting him to get to me.

I’ve made good time arriving back into to town so I decide to go and check on my store before going home to set up for the party. I park round the corner and walk down the street to the front of store. Meg’s out front with a client, so I quietly make my way past them and through to the back office and find Jess at the laptop.

“Laurel.” She grins immediately as I enter the room.

“Hey chick, how’s it going?” She scoots the chair back and crosses her legs as I sit on another chair by the desk.

“Amazing. Such a busy day, and Joe came round from the menswear hire company. He heard about us expanding and wants to do another event considering the last was so successful. He’s willing to foot the bill for it all.”

“Seriously? Wow.” I sit back and let that sink in. Our last fashion show was amazing. We had people coming from the next few counties and both companies saw a huge increase in orders. Not to mention we made a whole load of new contacts.

“Yeah, ‘wow’ pretty much covers it. How are things up north?”

“Great, chick. The shop-fitting team are a good bunch of guys, and the unit’s in a great location. James is coming with me in a couple of weeks to make sure everything’s running to schedule.”

She smiles. It’s a goofy grin and catches me off guard.

“What?”

“He came in today too. That man is head over heels for you, hon’.”

He came here? He knew I was away. How strange.

“Why did he come here?” I watch her face and she wiggles her eyebrows.

“Sorry Laurel. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.” Hmm, she’s still smiling so obviously it’s not bad. Maybe he just wanted to check on my store while I was gone and make sure everything was running smoothly. That’s sweet.

“Well, I only came to make sure you were still coming to the party tonight?”

“You bet. Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll close up here, then go and get changed. I’m picking up Meg at seven.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon, chick.” I wave as I leave, and wiggle my fingers silently at Meg as I pass her in the showroom.

The cool air hits me as I walk outside, but it doesn’t stop the yawn forcing my mouth open wide. I shake my head again and as I pass the café, make the decision to get a coffee to try and wake myself up. I order a caramel macchiato with a double shot for an extra boost.

I duck my head to put my change in my bag, with my coffee in the other hand, and push the door open quickly. I need to get home and set things up.

“Fuck,” I hear the harsh mumble from the other side of the door. As I push it wider, I realise I’ve hit someone.

“You.” I say with disgust when I see the beautiful face attached to the annoying man standing in front of me. He’s bent over holding his nose, but looks up when he hears the frustration in my voice.

“Ah, mi abuela hermosa.”

Fuck that sounds sexy.

But he’s still a dick. 

“Sorry, I have no idea what you just said. I don’t speak asshole.”

“Ooh, burn!” He chuckles. “I’m starting to think I really piss you off. But what could I have done?” He appears to look thoughtful, then holds up his finger, “Oh I know. Called you out on your complete lack of driving skills. I get it now. Damn, that really must get to you, huh?”

I close my gaping mouth and shake my head, then decide to take the risk. “You are so not worth it,
gilipollas.”

When I was fifteen my school had an exchange with a Spanish school. I wasn’t part of it, but a cute boy called Javier who I had a thing with, taught me a few choice words in Spanish. I’ve never had the inclination to use them until now. I raise an eyebrow, hoping my pronunciation was correct, and inside I get a little proud flutter when his lip hovers slightly.

“Okay. Not what I expected. But I’ll adjust.”

“What does that mean?” I snap back. Who the hell is he anyway?

“Nothing, sweetheart.” He sighs, like I’ve pissed him off. What the fuck? I don’t have time for this anyway.

“Right, well again, can’t say it was fun, but I’m off home.”