Spin (Boosted Hearts Book 2)

by Sherilee Gray

  A freaking super weird expression came over his face. She guessed he was trying to frown. She didn’t blame him.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Yep. She’d called it right.

  Edging to the side, away from the door, she placed a hand on her belly. “That fish I had—” she screwed up her face, “I don’t think it agreed with me.”

  She was pretty sure his eyebrows would have shot up to his hairline if they hadn’t already been there “You mean, you…”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “Both ends. It’s bad, too. Singe the hair right out of your nostrils.”

  He opened his mouth, then slammed it shut. “Um…”

  “I better head off. I’d hate to hurl…or ah, worse, in your car.”

  “Yes…I mean, no. That wouldn’t be good.”

  She patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks for a great time, though.”

  His reply was swallowed up by the buzz and noise of the restaurant, because she’d already bolted from the hall and was halfway to the door. Just one blessed taxi ride away from a shower to scrub off that creep’s sweaty mitts and a nice cold beer.

  She'd only gotten a block down the street when someone grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down an alley. She opened her mouth to scream…

  Joe filled her vision. “Get in the car.”

  “What the…” She took in his dark expression then spotted the Ferrari parked behind him. “Why are you here? You should be long gone.”

  He pushed her toward the passenger side. “Needed to make sure you were okay.”

  Oh God. “Joe…”

  “Get in, Darcey.”

  She didn’t mess around and quickly did as he said.

  He fired up the engine and a second later, they were off, tearing down the street. She glanced over at him. Damn. She had to admit he looked good behind the wheel. His big frame filled the space in a way that made her heart race faster.

  She forced her eyes away from the way his corded, sexy, inked forearms bunched as he drove. “Did you have any trouble?”

  His gaze slid to her, and she sucked in a breath. Damn the man was gorgeous, and right then, dangerous as hell.

  “The only trouble I had is sitting beside me.”

  Her back straightened. “You have the car, don’t you?”

  His nostrils flared. “I would have found a way to get it—a way that didn’t involve some asshole pawing you with his fifthly fucking hands.”

  He gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. His breathing became rough, and his eyes turned dark.

  He was jealous.

  It was wrong, so damn wrong, but knowing that thrilled her. She didn’t know what to say or how to respond. And the more she watched him struggle for control, the hotter she got.

  He’d stolen this car while she’d eaten her entree—and that did something to her. Made her ache and squirm in her seat. God, she was pretty sure she’d soaked right through her underwear. Could she be any more fucked up?

  She glanced over again, watching how he shifted through the gears, the way he gripped the steering wheel with those long, thick fingers. What the hell was wrong with her? She was close to a mini orgasm just from watching him drive this fucking ridiculous car. He looked over at her then, and whatever he saw in her face transformed his. Holy shit. A shiver fired through her body. The ache between her thighs becoming unbearable. She couldn’t look away. The way she was feeling went beyond rational, beyond common sense. She’d never been this turned on. Ever. Like she might die if she didn’t feel him inside her, right goddamn now.

  “Say it,” he growled, reading her so damn easily.

  She’d lost it completely, because right then, she gave zero fucks about the consequences. She wanted Joe, and she wanted him now. “Find somewhere to stop.”

  “Why?” His nostrils flared, fingers flexing around the black leather steering wheel.

  Her mouth wouldn’t work. She couldn’t say the words. The thought of exposing herself in that way, telling him how she really felt—she couldn’t do it. Instead, she slid her hands under her skirt, lifted her hips, and shoved her panties down her legs.

  “Fuck me, or I’ll find someone else who will.” Being a bitch to get what she wanted was a hell of a lot easier than the alternative.

  Than making herself vulnerable.

  He hissed out a breath, a vicious curse rumbling from his lips.

  It was a stone cold lie. She only wanted Joe, had only wanted him since the first time she’d watched him steal a car with his brother. Making him believe he was just another dick to her was shitty. Petty. Not to mention the mixed signals she was firing off. But she was sick of fighting her attraction to him. There was no denying how much she wanted him, but admitting just how much, letting him get even a tiny glimpse of the full extent of those feelings, would expose her in a way she wasn’t prepared to deal with.

  The car wrenched down the next street then he planted his foot. They flew by several blocks, then headed out of the city, going in the direction of his garage. She didn’t think she could wait that long to have him. He obviously felt the same way, because he turned right suddenly, slammed on the breaks, and turned off the engine.

  Darkness flooded the car.

  Another alley perhaps? She didn’t have time to give it another thought, because she was hauled out of her seat. His reclined, and she straddled his thighs as he tore at the front of his jeans. His cock sprang free, and she didn’t waste any time grabbing the condom he held out and rolling it down his cock. She lifted up, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other wrapping around his thick length so she could guide him inside without either of them uttering a word.

  They both groaned loud as he stretched her wide. She rolled her hips, wriggling to work in as much of him as she could. Joe cursed then bit his bottom lip, his head dropping to the headrest on a gasp as Darcey started fucking him in earnest. Taking that big cock as deep as he would go.

  “Shit…” She was panting now, completely out of control, chasing one of those orgasms only he’d ever been able to give her. “God, so good.” Her head tipped back, fingers digging into his shoulders as she slammed her hips down harder.

  His hand slid up the side of her neck, cupping her chin, tilting her face down so he could see her.

  He watched her from under thick lashes. “Who are you fucking?”

  “You.”

  “Say my name,” he grunted.

  “Joe.”

  “That’s right.” The fingers of his other hand gripped her hip. “Now, let me feel it,” he muttered. “I’m gonna come so fucking hard any damn minute, and I want that pussy working me when I do.”

  A mix between a sob and a whimper burst past her lips as she ground down even harder, rubbing her swollen clit against the base of his cock. “Oh shit.” She sobbed again and then she came.

  Joe fisted her hair, taking her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her screams as she jerked and fucked her way through the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. She felt him grow bigger then he grunted deep, cock pulsing as he shook and growled, blowing up with her.

  She collapsed, face buried against the side of his throat, damn near trembling from the power of her release. They stayed like that for a minute, catching their breath.

  Joe was the first to move, smoothing a hand over her hair, fisting it again lightly. “Look at me, Darcey.”

  Her head felt like a freaking bowling ball attached to her shoulders, but she did what he’d asked. The fingers of his other hand skated up her throat when she was looking at him, across her chin and her jaw, sending goose bumps over her sensitive skin. His touch was gentle, almost reverent. Oh God. She was melting fast.

  His dark eyes locked onto hers and held. “Don’t ever threaten me like that again.”

  What? Her stomach clenched, and not in a good way. She tried to jerk away, but he kept her in place.

  “I didn’t mean…” she started.

  He shook his head, silencing her w
ith a dark look. “You’re feeling this thing between us, and I don’t wanna hear any more of your bullshit denials. Time we set a few things straight.”

  His hips lifted, and his still semi-hard cock pushed deeper. She bit her lip.

  “If you need to be fucked, I’m the one that’s gonna be fucking you,” he bit out.

  This was the other side to Joe, the quick to anger, possessive, take-no-shit Joe. No humor. No joking around. The worst part was he had every right to be pissed. Mixed signals didn’t cover it. One minute, she was all over him, the next, she was pushing him away. Now this…

  His dark eyes dropped to her mouth, his thumb sliding over her lower lip, pulling it free from her teeth. “You fuck someone else, I’ll beat the shit out of them. It’s not right. It’s not okay. I’m fully aware of how fucked up that is. I get that. But I want you, Darcey, and I’m not willing to share. You pull shit like that again, putting yourself in danger, trying to make me jealous like you did with Patrick, or you use this thing between us—the way I feel about you—against me like you just did, you will lose me. I’ll walk away. It will kill me to do it, but that’s what will happen. I don’t think you want that.” He squeezed her hip. “Fuck, I know you don’t.”

  She shoved his hand away, her own anger rising. “Now who’s making threats?”

  “It’s not a threat.”

  Her heart was thudding behind her ribs. “You’re being an asshole.”

  “I’m telling you like it is. I want you, Darcey, but I won’t be manipulated.”

  “You’re overreacting.” She tried to shake her head, but his fingers were still deep in her hair. A pleasurable tingle shot down her spine. “I didn’t even mean it. I just wanted…” She slammed her mouth shut before she said more to piss him off.

  “Not helping, peaches. And I know you didn’t—that’s my point.”

  Fuck, he was right, and that seriously sucked ass. “Look, I’m… sorry, okay?” She slid her hands over his strong shoulders, her eyes focusing on his left ear, because she couldn’t bring herself to meet his stare. “I shouldn’t have said it.” She tried to move, to get off his lap, but his grip tightened.

  “What about an apology for making me watch that asshole put his hands all over you? For making me sit there, not able to do a damned thing about it, knowing you’d put yourself in that position for me? To help me.”

  Oh God. Her heart was going to explode out of her chest. “I’m sorry,” she said again, this time softer.

  “Not good enough.” His eyes got darker still. “Kiss me.”

  Warmth bloomed in her belly, her resistance dissolving into a puddle at her feet.

  She was in so much trouble. “Maybe we shouldn’t…”

  “Kiss me, Darcey. Fucking now.”

  She was helpless to refuse. She couldn’t do it anymore.

  Her mouth came down on his a second later, and she sighed when his opened for her, his tongue sliding against hers. But he only let her control it for a short time before he took over. He kissed her so damn deeply she was hot for him again in no time. He was hard again, and she rolled her hips.

  He groaned and pulled back, his big hands in her hair, holding it away from her face. “As much as I’d like to stay here all damn night, buried inside you, I need to drop off this car before someone spots us.”

  Shit, because of her, they’d taken a stupid risk. “Of course.” She slid off him, and this time, he let her. She missed his hands on her immediately.

  Dragging her underwear back on, she yanked down her dress and turned to him. “Go. I can make my way home from here.”

  “Darcey…”

  “I’ve got money. I’ll take a cab. You need to get rid of this.”

  He dipped his chin. He knew she was right, and he watched her as she climbed out, those dark eyes never leaving her.

  Before she could step away, he grabbed his sweatshirt off the floor and handed it to her. “It’s cold, wear this.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

  “You will.”

  She shut the door, and with that threat—or promise—ringing in her ears, he drove away.

  Shoving her hands in her hair, she squeezed her eyes shut. “Shit.” What the hell just happened?

  You use this thing between us—the way I feel about you—against me like you just did, you will lose me.

  The way he feels about her? What did that even mean?

  What had she gotten herself into? What did he want from her?

  More importantly—how was she going to say no when she finally found out?

  It was getting cool, so she pulled on his sweatshirt and headed down the street. Joe’s scent wafted up, and she fisted the thick fabric and pressed it to her nose, drawing it in. Then realized what she was doing and dropped it. Gah!

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out, almost positive it would be Joe. It wasn’t.

  Len: We need to talk. Come by tomorrow. You can visit with Noah.

  Darcey: I’m coming to see Noah, but we have nothing to talk about.

  Len: You wanna see the kid, you’ll meet with me.

  She had no desire to pick up where their last conversation left off. But why else would he want to talk to her? She couldn’t think of another reason. What could she do? She had to at least talk to him. If she said no, he’d stop her from seeing her brother. She couldn’t do that to Noah. And God, she missed him so badly it hurt.

  She fired back her answer: What time?

  His reply came a second later, then she shoved her phone back into her pocket and headed for home. The situation with Joe was getting out of hand. How could she have let this happen? Especially with Len breathing down her neck—with her brother’s future on the line.

  What the hell was she going to do?

  Shoving her hands into her pockets, she kept walking. Whatever it was, she needed to act now. The longer she kept screwing around with Joe, the harder it’d be to walk away.

  She had to end it for good this time, and sooner, rather than later.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “It’s a woman, right?” Adam sipped his drink. “Hate to agree with your brother, but this”—he motioned in the general area of Joe’s face—“Oscar the Grouch thing you’ve got going on… Is it ending anytime soon?”

  Joe took a pull of his beer, ignoring Adam’s question completely, and glanced across the crowded bar then back, not in the mood for this conversation. “You going to stop fucking anything in a skirt and finally face your shit?”

  Adam jerked back like he’d punched him, all lightness vanishing from his expression. “Asshole.”

  His friend was right, of course. It was a total asshole move, bringing that shit up. It wasn’t his fault Joe was like a bear with a sore head. He was pissed, at himself, and at Darcey. He still couldn’t believe the risk he’d taken the night before, just to get inside her one more time. But when she’d thrown out that bullshit, instead of just telling him she wanted him, his head had goddamn exploded. The woman had some serious issues, and he could see them, clear as day. Instead of making herself vulnerable, telling him what she wanted, she’d threatened to fuck some other guy to get it. Joe didn’t like playing games—definitely not with her—not when he was pretty sure he’d already fallen for her.

  Motherfucker.

  What he should do is stay the hell away from her. That would be the logical thing to do. Especially with the shit storm circling them both. But he could no more turn his back on her than he could drown a sack full of kittens. He just…couldn’t walk away.

  The woman was tough. She’d had no choice, but she was also goddamn fragile underneath it all. He wanted, more than anything, for her to show that to him, let him see whatever the fuck it was that was hurting her. Because he wanted to be the one to fix it.

  The one to protect her.

  Shit. Rescue her.

  As a kid, he’d spent a lot of years feeling helpless, goddamn useless. Not old enough to help out his mom or Hugh. Th
ere’d always been so much anger and pain and financial stress in his home. Hugh had been pissed at their old man, their mother, depressed and crying all the time. Joe hadn’t been old enough to help out like he’d wanted, so he’d taken on the role of court jester. One thing he’d always been good at was making people laugh. Seeing his mom and sister smile made him feel good. Being the goof, the idiot, was a hell of a lot easier than acknowledging what he was going though. He kept his own anger and pain on lockdown. It was worth it to hear his baby sister giggle.

  He found himself doing it again with Darcey—wanting to make her laugh, to take away the pain in her eyes.

  The difference now, though, was he wasn’t locking down shit. No matter how hard he tried. It was impossible. He ran hot, always had. And Darcey hit every one of his buttons. Pissed him the hell off and turned him on like no one else ever had. She made him feel. It was scary as hell and the best fucking high he’d ever had. Being with Darcey was like being strapped into an out of control roller coaster. Only he didn’t want to get off. He wanted to go around again…and again…

  “You heard from Lucy lately?”

  Adam’s question pulled Joe from his thoughts.

  He glanced at his friend. “Yeah, she called yesterday. Why’s that?”

  Adam shrugged. “No reason. Just wondered how school’s going.”

  Joe shrugged. “She won’t talk about it, but I get the feeling something’s going on with her. I don’t know…she seems quieter, almost unhappy.” He ran a hand over his shaved head. “Usually, she talks to me, but she won’t tell me a damned thing.” He was starting to get worried.

  Adams fingers flexed around his beer bottle. “Has Hugh tried?”

  “Don’t think he’s even noticed. Hugh’s wrapped up with Shay, and he deserves to be. He hasn’t mentioned anything to me, so whatever’s bothering Lucy, she’s hiding it from him, as well.”

  “You think it has something to do with that teacher?”

  Joe tapped his fingers on the table. “Could be.” Better goddamn not be. His baby sister had almost gotten kicked out of school for sleeping with her psychology professor not so long ago. The women in his life were making him fucking crazy. “You know what she’s like…thinks she can fix everything herself.”