by T Gephart
Car Crash
Published by T Gephart
Copyright 2019 T Gephart
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and scenarios are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Cover by Hang Le
Editing by Insight Editing Services
Formatting by Type A Formatting
Contents
CAR CRASH
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Books by this Author
To Christine, it’s been a pleasure and an honour.
Thanks for the love.
Dallas
JESUS. FUCKING. CHRIST.
She was crying.
Not just a little bit, but full-blown bawling.
Fuck.
I wasn’t good with tears, especially not after sex.
“Umm, baby?” I was freaking confused, wondering if I hadn’t pounded her so hard I’d shaken something loose.
Her shoulders shook, wrapping the sheet around her body as she blubbered into her hands while I looked on in panic.
“Oh, Dallas.” Her voice warbled as she peeked through her fingers. “That was my first time.”
First time?
“Your first orgasm, baby?” Sure, I’d given her three, but I wasn’t going to get hung up on semantics. Hard to believe I was the first guy to ring her bell in twenty-three years, but some assholes had no idea what they were doing down there. I, on the other hand, was a master.
A clit whisperer.
Lots of guys made all sorts of claims but weren’t up to the job. They got tired, impatient, or even worse, selfish. It wasn’t easy, but when you got that toe-curling scream and the wide-eyed surprise of a really good earthshattering O, it made you feel like Superman. And let me tell you that I prided myself in giving her two or three before I’d chase down my own.
That’s the type of guy I was.
Such a giver.
I could make a girl come with any part of my body; I was just that good. So if I, the Master, was able to achieve what other men hadn’t been able to, I was pretty fucking stoked.
“No,” she whispered, her eyes stained red from the waterworks. “I mean, yes it was my first orgasm with a man, but I meant it was . . . that was my first time having sex.”
Hold.
The.
Fucking.
Phone.
A virgin.
I’d just had sex with a . . . virgin?
I might have been the clit whisperer, but actor I was not. So there was no chance I was able to hide the fucking shock and surprise that tackled me like a linebacker as I tried to get my head around what she was saying.
A virgin.
Shit.
“Babe, why didn’t you tell me?”
Not to say that I still wouldn’t have fucked her—she was five different kinds of hot and had been giving me the “look” for close to an hour at the bar earlier that night—but I’d have liked to have had that knowledge before I’d done the deed.
Lots of aftercare with virgins, and not that I didn’t like to plant my flag where no other man had been—it was actually pretty freaking sweet—I just didn’t have the time to dedicate to the cause considering I hadn’t planned to spend the night.
If I left, I was an asshole, and if I stayed, I was giving her false hope that we were more than just the one-night stand I’d assumed we were. It wasn’t personal, I mean, I could barely remember her name.
Kelly?
Kate?
Kara?
Pretty sure it started with K, but I went with babe all the same just to make sure she didn’t knee me in the nuts for calling her something else.
She flicked her red hair out of her eyes as her gaze shifted to me. “I thought you would turn me down, and I really wanted to have sex with you.”
I ran my hand along her chin, trying to reassure her we were all good even though I was slightly freaking out. “Babe, I wouldn’t have turned you down, just would have been more careful with you. Did I hurt you?”
“No, it was perfect. You were perfect.” She sniffed, turning to snuggle into my arms.
Ah.
Crap.
When it came to commitment, I wanted none of it. Girlfriends were a complication I didn’t need or want, especially since I was enjoying the many choices I had available. Not to say that eventually I wouldn’t settle down with one woman, probably like when I was George Clooney’s age or something like that. But for now, the idea of being tied down when I was in my prime gave me a rash just thinking about it.
Surely I owed it to myself to play the field while I was able to, right? Share myself with the many rather than confine myself to one person. Besides, I’d never met a woman I could even contemplate long-term with, so why waste their time and my own for something that would only end up with both of us resenting each other. So yeah, what I was doing was definitely better.
When I’d met her earlier in the night I thought we were on the same page. I always made it clear that I’m not boyfriend material and for the most part, everyone is A-Okay with the hook-up scenario. I always made sure they were well and truly taken care of before I blew my load, and never did shady shit like say I’m in love with them.
But, every once in a while, I will stumble headfirst into a Fixer Upper. They see me—the tats, the hair, the piercings and the attitude—and think I’m playing a bad boy for Halloween. Suddenly, the mind-blowing sex—nothing more—we all agreed on is no longer enough and I become a fucking project. Like I can be trained like a border collie with some treats and enough “good boys.”
Not to say I don’t like treats and praise, and when given in the right context, I will sit up and bark if that’s what a girl was into. But, being tricked into a relationship was definitely not cool, and while I might have fallen for it a few times in the past, my eyes were wide open now.
And fucking a virgin was a game changer with an added degree of danger.
Fuck.
“So . . . I guess I should go.”
Asshole it was.
Honestly, I didn’t like being a prick. I got no joy out of it and it didn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy. But confronted with the reality, I was in over my head. Better for her to hate me now before she got even more attached; it was a price I had to pay for being a sex god.
Her head snapped up, her tits bouncing a little as she sucked in a few quick breaths. “You’re leaving? But I just told you—”
“I know, babydol
l.” I stopped, not needing the repeat. “And I’m glad I was your first. At least now you know what it should feel like.” I moved out of the bed knowing my window to get out of Dodge was getting smaller by the second. “So if the next dude pumps you twice and then blows his load, you know to kick him to the curb. You deserve the best.”
The men in her future were most likely going to be a disappointment but that wasn’t my problem to solve. Nope, that was between her and whoever came after, all of which were none of my business. I’d fulfilled my end of the bargain and that was to blow her mind.
Which I did.
Three freaking times.
Reaching down, I pulled on my jeans, opting to go commando than waste time with boxers. My departure was time sensitive, and the longer I lingered the more chance there was of shit going bad.
She watched me with interest, her eyes narrowed like she wasn’t hearing my words right. But I wasn’t about to give her a repeat—either with my words or my dick—so I ignored the staring competition and continued to get dressed.
“Okay, sweet stuff.” I was no closer to remembering her name. “Tonight was great.” I gave her a quick wink, shoved my feet into my boots and my boxers into my pocket. “I’ll see you around.”
And with a quick wave, I turned and headed toward the door, counting the steps until I was finally free.
“You’re an asshole, Dallas,” she screamed, a shoe hitting the wall beside me before I’d made it safely outside.
I didn’t stop.
Couldn’t.
I wasn’t sure if she was going to continue to be happy tossing shoes or if something else would come flying. Maybe her aim would improve, needing a throw or two before she was warmed up. Not a risk I was willing to take as I slammed the door behind me and jogged down her street in the dark.
It wasn’t ideal, and not how I’d planned the rest of my night. I’d have preferred to have banged her a few more times, had breakfast in the morning and then weaseled a ride to the shop. My house was out of the question for obvious reasons—I didn’t want a woman I barely knew knowing where I lived—but considering she’d already been to where I worked, there was no harm in her taking me back there. Not that it mattered now, a man had to do what a man had to do, and currently that man was double-timing it away from her house as I pulled out my phone and made a call.
“You in trouble again?” Josh’s voice was surprisingly chipper considering it was close to midnight. Not that my best friend wasn’t the best wingman of all time, but since he’d shacked up with his smoking-hot woman, he was less enthusiastic about nighttime bailouts.
“Dude, I need you to come get me. I left my car at the shop and I’m in the city.” I glanced over my shoulder, checking I didn’t have a tail. “Shit got complicated and my night didn’t pan out as expected.”
The bastard laughed, his throaty voice exploding into my ear as I rounded the corner and hit the main street. “Really?” he asked, but not sounding surprised. “Tell me where you are, dipshit, and I’ll come get your sorry ass.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied an all-night diner and made my way over. I gave Josh my location and decided to chill until he arrived. Besides, I could always eat, and pie was one of my favorite things. Pun totally intended.
The bells on the door of the diner jingled as I pushed it open. There were a few people inside but none of them paid me any mind as I slipped into a booth and breathed a sigh of relief.
Clean getaway.
Now all I had to do was sit tight and wait for my ride to get here.
Nothing to worry about at all.
Josh was the real deal.
I’d known the dude since junior high and we were tight. Not only was he like a brother to me—considering I had none of my own—but I also spent almost every day with the guy. Well, technically he was my boss, but neither of us really bought into that bullshit. Nope, Art Addiction might have Josh’s name on the door but I was just as important.
Not only was I talented between the sheets, but I was also the number one tattooist in Queens.
Fine, Josh was number one—not that I’d ever tell him that, my buddy able to ink skin like no one I’d ever seen—but I was an incredibly close second. So close, it almost made no difference, which was why I’d agreed to let him take most of the limelight.
Generous of me.
He could do all the interviews, let them hail him as the Tattoo King of NYC in Ink Magazine and I could get my adulation from the female population.
Besides, the girls were wasted on him, even before he hooked up with Eve—his woman—he was never into them like I was. So it seemed it was all for the best.
“Coffee?” The waitress looked bored as she hovered beside me with her hip cocked and her coffee pot idle.
I’d met dozens of Ms. Do-You-Want-Coffee in my time. Bored women working shitty jobs, hoping to get a decent tip because their men didn’t know how to fuck them. And while I couldn’t help all of them, it was this lovely lady’s lucky night.
I nodded, flashing her a smile as I leaned back and let her get a decent look at my goods. “I’ll take some pie too, sweetness. Cherry pie.”
Her eyes dropped down to my crotch, a smile making its way up her lips.
Yeah, that’s right, baby. I’m packing heat.
She was still going to get a regular tip—I wasn’t cheap—but I figured I’d do what I could to make her night a little better. A little flirting didn’t hurt anyone, and my dick liked the attention.
“Hi.” She smiled and pushed her hair behind her ear like she was seeing me for the first time. “I’m Gemma.”
“Dallas.” I gave her a wink. “Rough night?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Gemma shot me a grin as she turned over my cup and poured right to the brim. “Nightshift is always the worst.”
“I bet. Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be cooped up in a shithole diner like this.”
She wasn’t the hottest girl I’d seen, but she definitely had potential. Probably didn’t see the point in making herself look good when a quick glance around the diner could see the effort would have been wasted anyway.
Her cheeks pinked, her eyes widening as she dropped her voice to almost a whisper. “You think I’m pretty?”
Yeah, it had definitely been a while since she’d been told.
“Come on, gorgeous.” I laughed, leaning forward as I looked her up and down. “You know how hot you are, don’t pretend like this is a revelation. I thought I was supposed to be the player?”
See, always honest.
“I-I’ll go get your pie,” she stammered, her eyes so wide I thought they were going to drop from her head. “Stay right there. Right there. I’ll be back.”
Lucky for her, I wasn’t going anywhere, happy to provide the public service and doing what I could to help improve her self-esteem.
Sure, I was a player just like I claimed, but I’d been upfront about it and as long as no one got hurt then what was the harm.
Maybe my aversion to relationships was from growing up with two older sisters and watching them get married, pop out kids and then both get divorced before they’d turned thirty. Maybe it was because I loved fucking too damn much and the idea of doing it with just one woman made me worried I’d get bored. Who cared? All I knew was that I was happy and it helped pass the time.
My phone buzzed from inside my pocket, but I didn’t need to see the screen to know it was probably some girl. I mean, it was close to midnight and Josh was already on his way. Other than a family emergency there was no one else calling me that late. Even my parents knew to text me first, the parental units not fully understanding my lifestyle, but supporting it nonetheless.
I couldn’t help but smile as I checked out the name of my latest booty call.
“Kitty.” The smile was automatic as her name lingered on my tongue.
Mmmmm.
When it came to fond memories, she was at the top of my list, the tingle in my dick confirming i
t in case my brain wasn’t sure.
“Hey, is Josh with you?” she asked without even so much as a hello.
“Why do you want Josh, sweetness? I’m sure whatever you need I’m more than able to provide.”
I’d only had the pleasure of sleeping with Kitty one time, but it had been one of the best nights of my life. She was off-the-scale hot, blond hair and green eyes with an insane body no man with a pulse could ignore. She was tiny—maybe five-two—petite except for the most amazing set of tits I’d ever seen. And had I not felt those babies with my own two hands, I’d have thought they were fake for sure. Not only was everything about her the real deal, but she had flexibility that would make a Romanian gymnast jealous. If there was ever a woman I was dying for a repeat with, it was the one on the other end of the line.
She laughed, her voice sending a shiver right to my balls. “Well, considering Eve told me you’re stuck at a diner in Manhattan, not sure you’re in a position to help me.”
Kitty and Eve weren’t the kind of girls you’d think would even be friends. Eve had more dead presidents in her bank account than all of us put together and knew which fork to use when it came to a fancy dinner. She’d loosened up some, but for the most part, she was straight down the line. Kitty, on the other hand, was a free spirit. Didn’t follow anyone’s bullshit rules, preferring to dabble on the wrong side of the tracks. To be fair, that’s where most of the fun was.
Other than both being ridiculously hot, they had nothing in common. Unless you counted Eve’s asshole ex-boyfriend who decided it would be a good idea to have Kitty as his sidepiece. Bastard didn’t count on them channeling their inner girl power and both of them kicking the loser to the curb.
And if not for the freaking sweet back piece my buddy had inked on the very sexy Kitty a few months before, Eve and Josh might not have gotten their fairytale ending. It was that tattoo that had sent Eve on a quest to find the artist, Kitty the connection that hooked those two up. Still, not that any of that mattered now, their situation not helping me any.
“She was mistaken, I was bored and wanted to hang out,” I lied, not knowing how much of the story Eve had given Kitty and not wanting to admit more than was necessary. “So, tell me, what did you need?”