by Alexa Riley
There’s a knock on the door and I hear Mitch call out.
“Yeah, come in.” My voice sounds tired, but after last night I’m shocked I’m still awake.
“I saw Stacy left. You get some new ink?” Mitch looks over my arms and I shake my head.
My body art is on display enough, but the piece on my back is just for me. I don’t show that one off. Ever.
“Party still going?” I nod my chin to the door to try and change the subject.
“Um yeah, about that.” He looks behind him and I can see his expression change. “She came by to see you.”
“When?” I don’t have to ask who to know he’s talking about Gemma. “What did she say?”
“She wanted to talk to you but you said don’t let anyone in.”
“Fuck.” I’m on my feet and Mitch moves in my path.
“She heard you in here and I think she may have gotten the wrong idea.”
“What do you mean she may have? What the hell happened? How long ago was it?”
“It was about an hour ago, maybe more. I don’t know. You were grunting a lot.”
“Oh no.” I push past Mitch as he tries to grab my arm, but as soon as I’m out of my office I’m being ambushed by the filming crew and people everywhere.
I’m stressed out and panicked because I need to know where the fuck Gemma went, because this is not going to be good. I wanted to go to her last night but the cops arrested me and charged me with assault. I’m lucky as fuck the guy decided to drop the charges, but that probably had more to do with the chunk of cash I had Mitch get out of my safe last night and take to him. By the time I got home we had to go to the car show and Roxy said it would be better if she didn’t see me when she woke up. I’m beginning to think I should quit listening to everyone and just do what my gut tells me.
And maybe it’s time I start now.
“That’s it, everybody out!” I shout and suddenly the music stops and everyone turns to face me. “Party’s over. Everyone get the fuck out of my shop.”
They all stare at one another as if I’m speaking a different language and I stomp over to the wall and yank open the electrical panel. I start flipping breakers and one by one the lights go out. That’s when people finally get the message and start to move.
“Make sure they empty out of here,” I say to Mitch, who nods at me.
Just then Roxy comes running up. “What the hell, Bronx? What’s going on?”
“Where’s Gemma?” I say as my chest tightens.
She gives me a dirty look and turns to Mitch. “I’m ready to go.”
“Roxy!” I shout and she turns to glare at me. “I’m not in the mood to play games. Where’s Gemma?”
“Watch how you’re talking to my girl,” Mitch says, stepping in front of her.
“I’ve got this, baby.” She leans around him and gives me another dirty look. “She’s gone, and it’s all your fault.”
“She went home?” I start to walk past them and to her place, but Roxy stops me.
“No, dumbass, gone gone. She packed her bags and drove out of town. And it’s all because of you.”
“What?” I feel like I’ve been shot in the gut as her words echo around in my head. This can’t be right.
“You know, I really thought you were different. I thought you loved her.” She shakes her head in disgust as she turns away from me. “I never thought you’d hurt her like that.”
Without another word I race out of the shop and to my truck. I wrack my brain thinking about where she could have gone. I’ve got to find her and stop her. I have to explain, and then I’ve got to make sure this shit doesn’t happen again.
It’s time she knows how I feel and it’s time I make her mine. The waiting is over.
Chapter Seven
Gemma
I hit the steering wheel again as if it will help. I can’t believe this is happening. I have no idea what is wrong with my car. I’ve checked everything I could think of and it’s flat-out dead. It’s like someone flipped a switch and everything went out.
I pick up my dead cell, willing it to work but drop it back down when all I see is a black screen. That’s what I get for trying to get the hell outta Dodge without a plan. I’m lucky my car was home to begin with. I have no idea how it got from the bar to my place last night. It had to have been Bronx because he always takes care of me in some way.
My plan is to not be his to take care of anymore, but right now I wish for nothing more than him to appear and fix this. Even though I shouldn’t have, I found comfort in knowing he was always next door. It was part of why I chose to move out of my childhood home. It wasn’t just for a change, it was to be closer to him so I’d get to see him every day.
“He’s busy,” I remind myself.
I swallow the lump in my throat that I’ve been fighting since I ran from his shop. I don’t want to break down so I close my eyes and rest my head back. I need to start walking because the sun is setting and I know it’s about a thirty-minute walk to get to a phone and call someone. I’m sure as hell not flagging down a stranger.
I can’t be mad at Bronx for being with another woman. I’ve just never witnessed it first-hand. I think he hid it from me because he knew I harbored a crush on him. He did what he thought he needed to do to protect me. My dad was right; he’s a good man. Dad once told me that when I grew up I should find someone like him, but I don’t want someone like him. I want Bronx.
I’ve gotten myself into another mess and this time Bronx isn’t here to fix it. That’s something I’m going to have to learn to get used to. I don’t have my dad anymore and now there’s no Bronx either.
I scream when a knock sounds on my window and I almost come out of my skin. My door opens a second later and Bronx in all his glory stands over me in a tight pair of jeans and a black shirt stretched over his broad chest. He doesn’t look like he’s shaved in a few days and even his hair is a mess. He’s normally put together for the car shows because everyone wants a picture with him and one of his cars.
“Out,” he tells me as he holds out his hand. I stare at it in shock, wondering where the hell he came from. Better yet, how did he track me down? Again.
“Babe, get out of the car.” This time he doesn’t wait and his rough hand grabs me and pulls me out of my seat.
His big hand engulfs mine as he tugs me from the car. He reaches in behind me and grabs my bag from the passenger seat along with my cell phone before he leads me to his truck. I have to nearly run to keep up with him, but he’s walking like a man on a mission and I know there’s no stopping him. I learned last night in the bar, if Bronx wants me somewhere he’s going to put me there. I shouldn’t enjoy it as much as I do, but his manhandling isn’t helping me get over him.
I go to open my mouth when he swings the passenger door open and tosses my stuff into the back seat of his truck. Then I see his face and quickly shut my mouth tight. I've never in my life seen him this angry before.
Not the time the new guy hit on me at the shop when I was sixteen, not when he’d get worked up about something someone had royally messed up in the shop, and from what I remember about last night, he played that cool too. This is different and I’m not sure it’s all anger because something else is tangled up in it.
I keep my mouth shut as he easily places me in his truck and shuts the door. He doesn’t slam it and I watch him take out his phone as he walks around the front of the truck. My eyes narrow as I wonder who he’s calling. Suddenly the fire I had inside me comes roaring back to life.
He climbs into the truck while he’s still talking. “Yeah, park it in my garage.”
With that he ends the call and drops his phone down into a cup holder. He looks over at me for only a second before he cranks the truck up and we set off in silence.
“I’m sorry about last night. I should’ve been safer,” I finally say, knowing I still owe him an apology. I might be hurt, but it’s not his fault that I harbor these feelings for him. He’s not supposed
to stop living because I have a crush on him. Okay, “crush” is putting it lightly, but still, he has a life of his own.
“I shouldn’t have let it happen.” His voice is thick with regret.
“You’re not my keeper, Bronx. I know you think you owe it to my dad, but I’m a woman now. I should be able to take care of myself.” I should, and last night was a stupid decision. I won’t do it again and I’ve learned my lesson.
“No.” He fires off the one word and it shocks me.
Why wouldn’t he want me to take care of myself? Isn’t that the whole point of growing up? If I’m going to be on my own I have to learn to do it safely.
“I have to be able to take care of myself, Bronx. You can’t look after me forever. We both have to get on with our lives.”
“I’ve been living mine.” His shoulders shrug stiffly as his eyes stay on the road. “So have you,” he reminds me, and in a way he sounds proud.
“Not really,” I say, and even I can hear the disappointment in my voice.
His big hand comes down on my leg and I jerk my head up to look at him. The simple touch does so many things to my body and my mind goes to places it shouldn't with him.
“You graduated and got your cosmetology degree.” He smiles at that and some of his anger melts away.
We’ve both made something of ourselves. Sure, his was bigger, but it’s what we both wanted in life and Dad was a big part of pushing us to make our dreams come true.
“I did,” I agree. “But I’m stuck.”
He squeezes my thigh slightly and the feeling goes straight to my core. My panties are wet from his firm hold on me and I’m reminded why I have to get away. He’s the only man that’s ever made me feel this way and to my mind and body he’s it for me.
“I’ve been giving you time.” He lets out a long sigh like he’s exhausted. He probably is if he got tossed in jail and then he went to a car show. Follow that up with a wild party and I want to throw up thinking about it. Shouldn’t he be with the woman I heard him with in his office only a few hours ago? It’s not my business, but I can’t stop thinking about it.
I have no idea what he means about giving me time. I’m guessing so I could sleep off my hangover and issue my apology.
“I’m sorry.” I look over at him.
I have to make myself focus so I don’t think about his hand on my thigh or him with other women. I’m in sweats and I wish I’d taken the time to change, but I was focused on getting as far away from Bronx as fast as I could. It didn’t take me long to realize the distance wasn’t helping. In fact, Bronx makes a habit of never allowing me any distance from him. He’s become a permanent fixture in my life since my dad passed and although we might not be as close as we used to be, there isn’t a day I don’t see him. He’s so ingrained in my life but so far away at the same time and the space is eating me alive.
His finger drifts back and forth on my leg and I rethink his words. I’ve been giving you time. Giving me time for what? To move past my dad? To grow up? To sow his wild oats? I don’t like any of those options, so I do what I do best. I look out the window and avoid his statement, but Bronx isn’t one to be ignored.
Chapter Eight
Bronx
“I don’t know why you have this need to keep apologizing to me but it’s going to stop.” I say.
She won’t look at me as she shrugs and I pull up to her place. She makes a grab for the handle and I snatch her arm.
“Goddamn it, Gemma, quit running from me.”
“I’m not running.” She tries to pull her arm free but I nod my head towards her grip on the door.
“You did the same thing last night and every chance before this. I’ve been trying to go slow and give you time.”
“Time for what, Bronx? I don’t even know what that means. Besides, don’t you need to get back to the woman in your office?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” I say, shocked as I see hurt flash in her eyes.
“Oh, don’t pretend. I heard the noises coming from your door and Mitch wasn’t letting me in. You think I’m stupid?”
“I think you’re stubborn, dramatic, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” She blinks up at me a few times as her mouth falls open. “I didn’t have a woman in my office, no matter what you say you heard.” I lean in close so that my lips are almost touching hers. “I haven’t touched a woman since the day I met you.”
“B-but that was—”
“When you were too damn young to have.” I touch my lips gently to hers as I slide my arm around her waist. “I’ve been waiting on you to grow up and then for your heart to heal.”
My hold on her tightens and her lips part. The gentle kiss deepens and I touch my tongue to hers. The warm, sweet flavor invades my mouth and I moan as her body molds to mine.
Her seatbelt tugs and I pause as I lean back and look into her eyes. “Come with me.”
She bites her bottom lip as she looks up at me and nods. Once I get her out of the truck I take her hand and walk her across the street. By now my shop has cleared out and the parking lot is empty.
I lead her through the door and to the back where I stay. I’ve got an apartment similar to hers set up here so that I could stay close to her. When we walk inside I lock the door and pull her close to me.
“You want to see what I was doing in my office when you ran?”
She nods quietly and runs her hands down my chest.
I grab the neck of my shirt and pull it over my head, tossing it on the floor. When I turn around I hear her gasp and look over my shoulder to see her fingers covering her mouth.
“Bronx,” she whispers, stepping closer. “Is that—”
“Yeah, it’s you, babe.”
Every part of my back is dedicated to her. There’s a portrait of her in the middle sitting in an old beauty chair and posing like a pinup. It’s surrounded by lilies, which are her favorite flowers, and then there are little reminders of her as the years went on.
“I can’t believe you did this. You’ve had this all along?”
“For the most part, yeah,” I answer as I slowly turn back around to face her. “And this one I got for your old man.”
Across my chest on the left side is a tattoo of the Mustang he and Gemma used to take to car shows.
“Oh God,” she whispers, and I see tears form in her eyes as she reaches out and touches it.
Her fingers feel like a warm caress to my soul as I put my hands on her waist. “Your dad meant the world to me, and my heart broke the day we lost him.” She nods and looks up at me. “I know if he were here he would have told me to stop wasting time with waiting.”
She smiles and I lean down to kiss her again. The feel of her soft lips against mine is like nothing I’ve ever felt. It’s all-consuming and so damn good that I know soon enough I won’t be able to stop.
“I was the reason your car stopped working and your phone died,” I admit, and she cocks her head to the side in confusion.
“How did you manage that?”
“After I got out of jail I might have put a scrambler and tracker on your car to make it stop working.” I shrug and she rolls her eyes, but I see the smile pulling at her lips. “I couldn’t let you get away from me again. Not after what happened last night.”
“I really am sor—” I put a finger on her lips and shake my head. “I’m not running anymore.”
“You’re damn right you’re not.” I grab her by the waist and she squeals as I carry her through the space and lay her down on my bed. “We’ve got a lot of talking to do, but if I don’t have a taste of you I don’t know if I’ll survive another minute.”
When I kiss her it’s hard and selfish. I’m taking everything I’ve been waiting to have and all that I’ve been desperate for. I’ve bided my time and I won’t wait another second to take what’s mine.
She spreads her legs and cradles my body between them. I thrust against her softness as she sinks into the mattress and I moan at the
friction. Her breath catches as my mouth moves down her neck and my hands push her shirt up. I want her skin against mine and her legs open.
I grab the edge of her shirt and she lifts her arms up so I can take it off of her. Her sports bra has a clasp in the front and I open it to let her breasts spill out. Her pink nipples tighten under my touch and when I lean down to taste them she moans and arches towards me.
“So fucking long,” I murmur against the soft underside of her breast. “Years, babe.”
Her lower half pushes against me as I thrust into her and we’re humping just like we would if we were fucking.
“I’ve watched these grow,” I say, burying my face between them and licking a path up the middle. I push them on either side of my face and then suck on them one by one.
“Bronx, I ache.” Her breathing has sped up and her hips are moving faster.
“I’m not rushing this.” I suck on her nipples again until they’re a dark rose color. Then I rub my stubble across them while I grind hard against her pussy.
“Th-that’s it.” Her words are cut off as her hips roll and her chest flushes.
The blush from her cheeks travels all the way down and I grunt as she cries out and her legs begin to shake.
“Fuck, I need to taste that,” I growl. She tries to catch her breath and I shove my hand down the front of her loose sweats.
Her pussy is so wet she’s soaked through her panties. I shove two fingers past her lips and right into her pussy.
“Goddamn,” I hiss when she squeezes around me and grips me tight. “I can hardly get in there.” I work them in and out and the sounds of her sopping wet pussy are like a symphony written just for me.
I look down and see the movement of my hand inside her sweats as I thrust in and out of her. It’s filthy and so damn hot as I fuck her with my fingers. She’s sticky and I can feel her cream coating me while I rub my palm against her clit. She’s messy down there and all I can think is how turned on she is and how I’m spreading her cum all over her pussy for me to clean up.