Touch Me

by Christie Ridgway

  She made a face. “The one where you almost traded punches with your brother.”

  His shoulders lifted, fell as he continued to study her. “You getting back with the weas—ex?”

  “What?” Did he know about Blake’s visit?

  “He came begging, didn’t he?”

  Payne knew about Blake’s visit. Huh. “There was no begging involved. But I did make it clear I wasn’t returning to Seattle…or to him.”

  “Is that so?” He straightened, and paced toward her.

  Rose pressed back against the countertop. “Yeah.”

  When he stopped a foot away from her, she searched her brain for the right thing to say. The perfect cap of a statement to end whatever it was they’d had.

  “You tell him you have this new idiot boss you can’t leave?”

  Her mouth twitched. Okay, he wanted to play it funny. “Maybe something like that.” It hadn’t been like that at all. But it was true she didn’t want to leave Payne.

  And she wasn’t. They’d be working together and she’d find a way to work through the heartbreak, too. It was an imperative. Rose 2.0 had the strength to do that.

  So she dredged up a smile. “Guess I’ll see you Monday? I’ll be at the yard if you happen to drop in.”

  “Doesn’t have to be Monday,” Payne said. “Take a few days off if you want.” Then he tilted his head. “It is going to be weird around here, not having you here making me eat my veggies, Mom.”

  Her short laugh did not sound like a sob. “Yeah. Weird.”

  Then Payne glanced away, glanced back. “Fuck it,” he muttered. His hand ran through his hair, then he touched Rose’s, sliding his fingers gently through the strands. “Maybe I don’t want you to go just yet.” His thumb brushed her mouth.

  Rose trembled, tingles rushing over her skin. His blue eyes were heated and they transferred that heat to her skin as he continued to look at her. “What do you want?” she whispered.

  His thumb caressed her bottom lip. “I checked the employee handbook. No rule.”

  “No rule?”

  “Not one.” Then he lifted her into his arms.

  “I’m too heavy!” she gasped. “You’ll hurt—”

  “Cleared to drive, baby,” Payne said, his mouth against her temple. “And I’m going to drive you mad.”

  This time it was in his room, lowly lit by a single lamp, and on his bed. But of course, Payne made it anything but boring.

  He had her out of her clothes in no time, and he stood over her, staring at her nakedness on his sheets while he rubbed his big palm over the thick rod behind his pants. She stared at his moving hand, mesmerized by the confident sexuality of the movement.

  “Let me see how wet you are, Rose,” he said. “Open your legs.”

  Her body burned.

  “Rose.” He cupped his balls. “I want to see.”

  “Then I want to see too.”

  His brows rose. He smiled, then he yanked off his shirt. The rest of his clothes went next, and then he was naked, his hands playing with himself again. Rose watched, recalling the satiny strength of his erection and the way it felt sliding inside her. More wet arousal gushed between her legs.

  Payne nodded at her like he knew. “I want to see, Rose.”

  Rose placed the soles of her feet on the mattress, then slowly, slowly widened her legs, watching as Payne’s chest expanded on a harsh breath.

  “God, you’re so pretty.”

  Then Rose 2.0 slid one hand down her torso. The other came up to her breast. Her gaze on him, she toyed with her nipple.

  “Yeah,” Payne said, his palm moving more quickly. “Play with your pussy, Rose.”

  At her first soft touch, her eyes closed.

  “On me,” Payne ordered. “Look at me.”

  Everything in her wanted to resist. It would be better to close her eyes and close herself off to him. Take the orgasm by her own hand. End it all as an independent woman who would be soloing in this, after all, for a long time to come.

  “Rose.”

  When she still didn’t obey, the mattress shifted and suddenly she had a big male body ranging over hers. He pulled her hands away, pressing the one that had been on her breast to the bed, bringing the other to his mouth to suck her juices free from her fingers.

  Her body jolted at the rough-wet caress of his tongue, but she couldn’t get far with Payne’s weight between her legs. Her lashes lifted and she twitched again as she watched him, because while her fingers were between his lips, those magnificent eyes were trained on her face.

  Taking in every nuance of her expression.

  He would know she hadn’t really taken it back. He would be able to tell that she was still in love with him.

  So she did it. Before, it had happened on its own. This time, she had to concentrate, walling away the sensation of Payne over her, his heavy cock pressed to her belly, the suction of his hot mouth. In her mind, she constructed the big whiteboard. In its tray sat erasable markers of every color. And on its surface, an invisible hand wrote in green, 16 x 1 = 16.

  When he set her other hand on the mattress, pinning it there too with one hand circling both her wrists, only a tiny part of her registered his lips on her neck. The rest was focused on the next equation. 16 x 2 = 32.

  She kept it up as he fondled her nipples and ran his tongue along her collarbones.

  When he half-rolled from her and pressed her knee flat to the mattress, she felt him explore her folds and bit her lip while concentrating. 16 x 6 = 96.

  One long finger slid inside her and her back arched, but she still saw the writing on the whiteboard. 16 x 9 = 144.

  Then Payne stilled. “What the fuck?” he muttered. His finger slid out of her and he drew the hand up her body, leaving behind a damp trail, until he cupped her face. She smelled herself, and even though the scent aroused her, she managed another calculation. 16 x 10 = 160.

  Of course, that was an easy one.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Payne demanded, his eyes narrowing.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she whispered.

  “You the hell know what I mean,” he said. “Fucking times tables.” His hand shot to the bedside table where he pulled a condom from the drawer.

  Her heart started racing as he kneeled up to roll it over himself. His belly hollowed at his own touch and the dragon head of his tattoo moved, as if truly breathing fire.

  It would burn down her defenses, Rose thought in a panic. Her heels scrambled on the sheets, her only thought to get away. Safe.

  “Stay,” Payne growled. He placed a hot, hard palm on her belly. More wetness gushed below his touch.

  Oh, God, she thought, furiously returning her thoughts to the whiteboard. Squeezing her eyes shut tight, she pictured the invisible hand. 16 x 11 = 176.

  Then Payne cursed, his weight dropped down on her, and his mouth crushed hers.

  Rose’s eyes flew open, hot chills overtook her skin, and her lips opened for the immediate thrust of Payne’s tongue. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.

  Payne Colson was kissing her on the mouth.

  And sliding into her wetness below.

  His lips were hard, his tongue aggressive, his taste wonderful. She reveled in the kiss, and her inner muscles tightened on his cock. He continued to hold her wrists above her head and her lower body writhed while her mouth accepted the complete plunder of that kiss.

  It continued as his hips drove forward, eradicating every single thing from her mind but the taste of Payne, the way he filled her, the climax that was building, and…

  The understanding that she was never, ever going to get over him.

  Payne waited for Rose to show up at the yard all Monday.

  When hour after hour passed without her arrival, he paced the back office. He walked through the rows of cars and kicked tires as if that was a thing an intelligent person would really do. When the afternoon rolled around and his after-school part-timers arrived, he supervised Jeb cleaning the spray
paint off the CCS #2 sign.

  Without asking, Lucy took it upon herself to tackle the scrubbing of the small second bathroom that everyone had been avoiding. Payne lavished praise on her for that, trying to ease the guilt the kid had written all over her face.

  He hoped she remembered what he’d said. Don’t allow yourself to be defined by your mistakes or what your parents say.

  Than he remembered what his sister said. Who your parents are don’t define you.

  That caused him to kick a few tires again.

  What Payne didn’t do was text or call Rose.

  When he’d dozed off after sex Friday evening, she’d left him.

  He should have been grateful. Instead he was perversely resentful.

  Christ.

  Once the yard closed, he didn’t care to go straight home. Though his refrigerator was full of frozen casseroles made of brown rice and free range chicken breasts, there was also spinach lasagna and cheese enchiladas. All made by Rose’s hands.

  He didn’t want to think about Rose.

  So he returned to his favorite place in the world. The parking lot and raceway were lit and a smattering of cars sat in the lot, so curiosity took him through the open ticket gates. Once he caught sight of the track, he realized it was a Boogie Night.

  That’s what he and his racing buddies called it, anyway. A local company, Hustle Racing, offered to civilians the opportunity, after instruction and liability waivers, to drive luxury sports cars or actual racing vehicles around the track.

  Payne stopped at the rail to watch the drivers-to-be gather around the autos, excitedly taking selfies or trading phones with others to get photo memories of themselves ensconced in the driver’s seat or posed with a proprietary hand on gleaming paint.

  He and his buddies called the experience a Boogie Night in a nod to the movie, because the cars were an auto aficionado’s version of pornography.

  “You’re here on a Boogie Night?”

  Glancing over, Payne saw Jer coming his way. The guy wore a collared speedway shirt and carried a paper cup full of unshelled sunflower seeds, the older man’s only vice.

  Payne grabbed a handful. “Hey, I like porn as much as the next guy.”

  “These guys are amateurs, Colson. You’re a star.”

  That stopped Payne short. Star. A porn star?

  Because, suddenly it felt like maybe he was just that. An aging porn star.

  Yeah, just thirty years old, but like a veteran actor of XXX-rated movies certainly had to find fucking routine, the racing might have become like that for him too.

  For sure, the day of the accident he hadn’t been 100 percent focused on his performance on the track. His mind had been on the new yard and whether he’d made the right decision. He’d been thinking of the numbers, just like he was sure Rose had been doing—damn her—Friday evening in his bed.

  Maybe it was time to quit racing.

  And find his rush…where?

  Abruptly, he spun about, not wanting to consider any of it.

  “Where you going, Payne?” Jer asked.

  His head didn’t know. His mouth said, “To see a woman about a job.”

  Behind the wheel of his car again, he reconsidered. She’d said she’d see him Monday, but she hadn’t come. He’d suggested himself that she take a couple of days off. Maybe that was it.

  Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe the weasel had come back for a second round and convinced her this time.

  That got him starting the car and getting the hell out of the speedway parking lot. He just wanted to know where he stood—uh, in terms of her employment. No way would he call her over the phone about it. When he asked the question he wanted to see her face to know whether she was with him or in some mental classroom doing the fucking times tables as a way to keep her distance from him.

  He was going to spank her for that.

  Of course he wasn’t going to spank her for that.

  She was his employee, not his lover.

  But there wasn’t a spanking rule in the employee handbook either.

  Groaning, he did his best to put that from his mind and battled the usual traffic to her sister Lily’s. Rose’s car wasn’t in the drive or on the street, but that didn’t deter him. He…he just had to see her.

  A man answered the door.

  Payne blinked, his mind not prepared to find a stranger. “Uh…”

  Lily’s house. Her husband. A slow smile curved the man’s mouth. “I think you must be Payne Colson.”

  “Yeah.”

  A woman hurried up to join the man. A baby was draped over her shoulder and though she looked vaguely familiar, he wouldn’t have picked her out of a line-up as his former high school girlfriend. The bones of her face were more finely etched now. Her hair darker. The laughter in her eyes unfamiliar.

  Because he suspected it was at his own expense.

  “Well, well, well,” she said. “Payne.”

  “Hey, Lily.” He played it cool, sliding his hands in his pockets and looking over her baby-decorated shoulder and farther into the house. “Rose home?”

  “Not right at the moment. Would you like to come in?”

  He’d like Rose. “That’s okay. I was just wondering about her because she didn’t show up at the yard today.”

  The man spoke up now. “I’m Gavin Newkirk. Lily’s husband.”

  They shook hands. “Nice to meet you. Um…Rose?”

  Gavin and Lily exchanged amused glances, making Payne a bit irritable. Was he being unintentionally funny?

  “Rose?” he asked again. How many times was that?

  “She had some car trouble this morning. Took us a while to sort it out.”

  Car trouble? Car trouble was his trouble. He scowled. “She didn’t call me.”

  “No worries,” Gavin said with a wave of his hand. “I’m a firefighter. I took it to the station and one of my buddies did the job.”

  Did what job? And was that where she was now? With the buddy? Paying back some firefighter by sitting across the table from him, allowing him to gaze on her beautiful eyes?

  “Are you all right, Payne?” Lily asked, with a concerned expression and more laughter in her voice. “Your face looks a little red.”

  Her husband glanced at her and mouthed something. And the something he mouthed was the word “green.”

  They both looked ready to crack up at that.

  Green. Damn it, green. They thought he was jealous.

  Payne had never been jealous in his life.

  Until fucking now.

  He narrowed his eyes at his old high school girlfriend. “Can you please just tell me where I can find Rose?”

  She tapped her finger on her chin. “Hmm…”

  “Don’t lie to me Lily.”

  “Like you did, telling all those women I was your ex and you were still hung up on me?”

  Oh, shit. “You heard about that?”

  “We know some of the same people, Payne. Word reached me.”

  “What do I need to do to make it up to you?” He swiped his hand over his face. “It was kind of a dick move, I see that, but it was a way not to…not to…”

  “Hurt the ladies.”

  “Yeah,” he said, relieved she understood.

  “And I don’t want you to hurt Rose, Payne. And that might partly be on me because I encouraged her to…” She glanced at Gavin.

  “Make whoopee?” he suggested.

  Whoopee? “I need to talk to her, Lily.”

  To see if she was just…whoopeeing it up with him or if there was…

  How could there be something more?

  But it seemed like there must be because over the years he’d forgotten what her sister looked like while Rose had been indelibly etched.

  He squeezed shut his eyes and that must have touched Lily because she called his name, soft and low. “Payne.”

  Opening them, he saw she wasn’t laughing at him any longer. “She left for your salvage yard to get some files. Not long before you arrived
here.”

  Over his shoulder, he called his thanks, because he was already hurrying to his car, trying to come to grips with the knowledge that over all these years, Rose had…been there. Inside him.

  Because of that kiss.

  He’d never forgotten a single thing about her and that kiss, that girlish, awkward, amazing kiss. And he’d stopped kissing other women because he hadn’t wanted to replace that kiss with any other.

  The car was speeding, heading toward the yard as thoughts circled in his head. That one night, the women who had come after.

  Oh, he hadn’t given up kissing the others at eighteen, but once he’d struck upon the notion, he hadn’t missed that particular intimacy. Until now.

  Now he wanted to spend hours and hours kissing Rose Dailey’s mouth.

  The knowledge was weird. Ridiculous.

  True.

  All this time, he’d been faithful to one woman. All this time, he’d been saving his very best for her, because she was deeply rooted inside him.

  In his heart.

  The trill of his hands-free phone system interrupted this revelation. His foot faltered on the gas pedal when the screen showed the number of the salvage yard.

  He couldn’t answer it fast enough. “Hi.” His breath was caught in his throat. “Rose?”

  “Payne?” She sounded out of air too.

  “Yeah, baby. You’re at the yard?”

  She didn’t ask how he knew. Instead, she said, “I need you to get to me, fast.”

  Every hair on his body shot up. “Why? What’s going on, Rose?”

  “Um…” Her swallow was audible. “Maylo. Maylo is here and wants into the safe.” Then the phone connection broke.

  It was the most important race of his life.

  But Payne’s grip was steady on the wheel and he didn’t break a sweat as he sped toward the yard. It was as if all his years on a track facing down danger were in preparation for this single crisis.

  Rose was in trouble.

  He willed his heart to calm as his car took the corner into the commercial district. Smoothly navigating each turn, he slowed only slightly as his business came into sight, Rose’s car parked out front.

  His eyes narrowed. The place looked normal. Locked up for the night. The cyclone fence gate padlocked. The front office dark. It seemed deserted.