Roadside Assistance

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Roadside Assistance Page 6

by Marie Harte


  The kiss, like Foley, made a statement. It packed a punch she hadn’t been prepared for because that spark of contact lit her up like a firecracker.

  He moaned. Or she moaned, but it was definitely her pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and grabbed his shoulders tightly.

  For a second, he held still, and she feared she’d misread everything.

  Then he breathed a “yes” into her mouth and took control.

  Good. God.

  Foley kissed as if starved for her. He deepened the contact, angling his head and his body so that one thigh rode between her legs. Then he moved his hands from her cheeks, guiding hers from his shoulders to wrap around his neck.

  He put his large palms on either side of her hips, then dragged her closer, so that her chest brushed against the hard plane of his.

  She inhaled on a moan, her nipples like tiny spikes of need against his broad chest. The kiss of apology had turned into tumultuous desire in the span of a heartbeat. Cyn knew she should pull back, should slow them down, but the sheer arousal he’d spiked demanded she end it another way.

  She hooked her leg around his and felt him huge and hard against her.

  He ripped his mouth from hers to kiss up and down her neck, sucking hard at her pulse. His hold on her waist shifted, one hand still on her hip while the other had slid under her sweater and now grazed her bare flesh, gliding up her sensitive ribs.

  “Oh,” she breathed as he drew closer to her breasts.

  “Fuck, Cyn. You’re so soft,” Foley whispered into her ear before he nipped the lobe.

  At that moment, he found her breast and palmed the large globe through her silk bra, rubbing her taut nipple.

  “Man, you feel good.” Foley kissed her again, squeezing and teasing her breast, then moving to do the same to the other.

  She could feel her body respond, could sense the intensity of it all while experiencing an almost out-of-body pleasure. No one had ever, in her entire life, turned her on like this with a kiss and some petting.

  And her hungry body wanted more.

  She pulled back to stare into his face, seeing the need emblazoned there, the beauty of hunger in his eyes. She let go of his neck to stop him from playing with her breast, her hand over his through her sweater.

  He stopped the moment she touched him, watching with a predatory stillness. But when she guided that hand lower, he relaxed, groaned, and kissed her again. He didn’t need further encouragement as his hand slid down her belly.

  In seconds he’d unfastened her jeans, then glided beneath her panties, seeking the heat of her.

  The second his fingers slid through her folds, she ate at his mouth like a woman desperate for affection. She knew it, could feel it, and didn’t care. She’d never been so quick or close to orgasm, and from just a little bit of touch. Damn it, she wanted this. Wanted him, right now.

  Foley didn’t stop. Not that she wanted him to. He shoved a thick finger inside her while rubbing her clit with his thumb. The ravenous kiss was a contest in wills, until she succumbed to his demands and let him take charge once more.

  Her reward—an intense orgasm that swept through her and caused mini earthquakes inside her. She heard a shriek, Foley’s encouragement, and felt him rocking against her with an erection that threatened to rival Mount Rainier in size.

  Then he stilled and removed his hand. A moment later, the shrieking stopped.

  “Good timing, eh?”

  She opened her eyes to stare into the bright gleam of male satisfaction. “Timing?”

  “You went off when the kettle did.”

  “Oh.” The shrieking hadn’t just been inside her. More than one way to let off steam. She would have laughed if she’d been able to think past the lethargy settling in her bones.

  “I knew you’d be hot, but you fucking burned me.” He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked. And that action had her readying for another go with him.

  With Foley Sanders. A man she’d just remembered she wasn’t sure she liked.

  He must have seen her hesitation, because he pulled back from her, though the grin hadn’t left his face.

  She glanced down, surprised to see him still thick against the fly of his jeans. “You didn’t… I mean, you, ah…”

  “Not yet. I’m saving that for when I’m inside you.”

  Confused, relieved, and suddenly shy, she didn’t know what to say, how to explain why she’d jumped him. “I’m not sure what happened.”

  “Chemistry, Cyn, that’s what happened.” He leaned close to kiss her again, but this time the contact was fleeting, over before it truly began. “Can I take a rain check on the hot chocolate?”

  “Um, sure.” God, when he kissed her, she found it difficult to think. Her gaze went to his erection again. “I just… I can’t…” She blew out a breath. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say thanks for the ride.” His lips quirked. “The car ride. And say you’ll call me later, so we can have a real date where you don’t get mad at me. Yeah, Cyn, you’re a big girl.” His gaze on her breasts left her in no question as to what he meant this time. “And I’m a big guy.” He cupped his arousal, and she fought the urge to fan herself. “I think we’ll fit just right.”

  “I told you I didn’t want sex.” Yeah, sounded weak to her own ears.

  He just looked at her.

  She covered her face with her hands. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Me neither. I’m still hard, and I know about a dozen women who’d help me get rid of this.”

  That had her staring at him in shock—and anger.

  “But I don’t want anyone else. I want you.” He brought her hand between his legs and made her squeeze. He sucked in a breath. “Fuck, I want you. But I’m willing to wait. Call me when you’re ready.” Then he groaned and eased her hand from him. “But don’t wait too long. I’d hate to die from blue balls.” He found a piece of paper and a pen and wrote down his number. Then he left the kitchen, putting space between them. He put his boots on and grabbed his jacket. “Hell, who am I kidding? I’m going to go home and jack off, thinking about how you taste, how you feel. But it won’t be the same. Call me,” he repeated in a low growl and left.

  Cyn weakly leaned against the counter, wondering how her life had spiraled way, way out of control. As she thought about all he’d said, she felt a giddy urge to laugh.

  He’d liked her. All of her. Not a guy out to get with a big girl, but a man attracted to her face and her mind. And her body, of course. Jesus, had they fit together. And they hadn’t even had sex, not fully.

  If he’s that good just touching you, imagine what he’ll be like when you finally do hook up all the way.

  Her panties were damp, her orgasm a full-body relief that made life brighter, sweeter. She fixed herself a cup of hot chocolate and wondered what to do about Foley.

  Then she realized something that still bothered her—just how was it he’d been right where she needed him, exactly when she needed him? Needed, kissed, touched…

  She sighed. If only she could forget about the way he’d played her body enough to figure him out.

  Chapter 5

  The moment Foley returned home, he locked himself in his bedroom and masturbated to memories of Cyn. Which took about five seconds, then he cleaned up and slid between his sheets.

  God, it had been all he could do not to shove deep inside her and come. Instead, he’d been the gentleman, giving her a good time while remembering her pledge of no sex. He didn’t want her to regret being with him, and the idea of seducing her into something she didn’t really want bothered him.

  Fuck, but that woman could burn him just by looking at him. Cyn was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And now he knew what she looked like when she came. Talk about good dreams.

  The nex
t morning after he woke, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to get her out of his mind. He’d thought he might be able to persuade her into another date with a steamy kiss. In no scenario had he imagined she might take over the kiss, or that she’d let him get her off.

  He groaned and took a firm grip on his morning wood. Just thinking about the woman turned him on, but now knowing how hot and wet she would feel around him, how sweet and passionate she’d get when aroused… He had to stop thinking about her or he’d be the laughingstock of the garage. Waving an erection around at work—not a good thing. Especially not around his unforgiving friends.

  But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. How she’d looked, felt, smelled. Tasted.

  He started stroking himself, lost in memories of their kiss. Once again, he lasted all of two seconds before he gave himself up to the bliss overtaking his body, Cyn and her taste at the forefront of his mind.

  After a quick shower, he dressed for work and headed for the kitchen, where he made himself a quick breakfast. Should he wake Sam or let the goon fend for himself? Foley hadn’t heard Sam get in last night. Probably spending his time with Shaya before she left the city. Though Shaya didn’t seem Sam’s type—too aggressive and world-weary for his buddy—she’d been kind to him, and she’d taken the edge off a man who needed some release. A satisfied Sam wouldn’t work so hard to fight his way out of everything. When Sam got some, the guy was easier to handle.

  Kind of like Foley, come to think of it. He grinned, in one hell of a good mood, and was sipping his coffee when Sam entered the kitchen, clean and in what looked like a decent frame of mind.

  Foley grinned. “Oh yeah, you got lucky.”

  Sam shot him the finger, poured some coffee, then hunted down a bagel. After slathering the thing in cream cheese, he joined Foley at the table. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “Tell me what went down with you last night.” Sam shoved half the bagel in his mouth and kept talking. “You look like a well-fed dog. You fucked Cyn, didn’t you?”

  “Not exactly. But man, she is just…” He blew out a breath. “I hate to keep saying hot, but it applies. Woman burned me to a crisp. She’s amazing.”

  Sam studied him, finally swallowing his food before talking again. “So you guys are an item now?”

  “Not exactly. I went by to talk to her—”

  “Because you’re a pussy who couldn’t give it a few days.” Sam shook his head. “Pathetic.”

  “—and ended up following her in her car. I was going to signal her to stop when she broke down. Bad battery. So I gave her a ride home.”

  “A ride, huh?”

  “Grow up.” But Foley laughed. “At her place, I was just going for a kiss. But somehow we got a little heavier.” Did we. Hell. There goes my dick again.

  “So what?”

  “So now I’m not sure. She knows I’m not just into big chicks.”

  Sam laughed. “I can’t believe she thought that. Damn. We all know you’re a dog with a hard-on for anything with breasts. With you it’s about pussy, not size.”

  “You should talk.”

  Sam snorted. “True. I like to fuck.”

  “I didn’t want to take advantage, so I left it in her court. Told her to call me.”

  “Yeah?” Sam studied him.

  “What?”

  “You like this one.”

  “Um, yeah. Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?”

  “No. You really like her. As in, this isn’t just about dipping your dick.”

  “So what?” Foley fidgeted. “Cyn’s different. She’s gorgeous, yeah. But she’s tough. Smart. Mean, and a little scared underneath. I don’t know. She’s cool, and I want to know more. It’s no big deal. Just a while since I’ve dated a girl.”

  Sam finished his bagel and said with a grin, “What about Sue? You guys were tight.”

  “Asshole.” Foley’s disastrous relationship with Sue, a waitress at his favorite bar, Ray’s, had almost ended his time there. As he’d told Cyn, Sue had agreed to some casual sex, and yeah, she’d been decent in bed. But then she’d changed the rules, wanting to be with him all the time, wanting to be exclusive. Then all that talk about kids had freaked him the hell out.

  At least now they got along like they used to. A good thing, because Sue was a tough woman. Not just because of all the tats and piercings. The woman could handle herself with a knife. And man, he did not want to go there. Crazy and needy he could do without, even if they did give good head.

  Now Cyn… He couldn’t see her handling a blade like Sue. She’d cut deep with words, her brain her most effective weapon. And well, maybe her body too. Shee-it. How could the woman not realize how fucking beautiful she was? It was that vulnerability, that lack of awareness, that made her so amazing. Foley had never been attracted to perfection.

  That small susceptibility, that need for acceptance, pulled at him. I sure the hell hope she calls. And soon. Because no way am I over that woman. Not at all.

  * * *

  Sam watched his best friend and knew a moment of unease. Cyn Nichols was different. She fascinated Foley, and Sam could see why. On the surface, the woman had everything Foley liked in a girl—breasts, red hair, a body that wouldn’t break from some rough handling, and attitude. Hell. Sam would do her in a heartbeat, no problem. He couldn’t fault the guy’s taste.

  But Foley had been out with women he truly liked before. A few he’d even been serious about. Like his girlfriend Michelle, from high school, and then that uppity chick, Desiree. Sam hadn’t liked her much, but he’d said little, not wanting Foley to dump a woman for his sake.

  Because he knew Foley, and the guy had heart. He always put others ahead of himself, because that’s the kind of guy he was. Not a selfish shit like Sam—who’d secretly been relieved and thrilled when Foley had dumped Desiree. Foley protected his mom and looked out for his family, to which Sam belonged, whether he wanted to or not. Eileen and Foley had decided to keep him a long time ago, and having a few brain cells that still worked, he’d accepted the claiming, no protest.

  But Foley could be known to be too giving. To the detriment of his own happiness, sometimes. Michelle, Desiree, that last job in Fremont, the one before Webster’s. They’d left because the manager hadn’t liked Sam. Not Foley, Sam.

  And now this Cyn Nichols. She mattered, because there was a light in Foley’s eyes that had been missing for far too long.

  What to do about her, though. Would she be good for Foley, or just another distraction his buddy didn’t need? Hearing why she’d turned Foley away, Sam couldn’t blame her. It also brought an aspect to her character he hadn’t considered. She’d been hurt before, so she took that hurt and turned it into a shield, bitching at others, keeping them at a distance so they couldn’t hurt her.

  He knew all about that. And he respected her for her strength. But he didn’t want her keeping Foley at a distance. Or did he?

  A glance at Foley’s glimmer of a smile worried him. Maybe he’d better keep a closer eye on Cyn, the way he’d continue to keep an eye on Eileen’s Jacob.

  He smiled at something Foley said, but his heart wasn’t in it. He owed Foley, Eileen, even Louise. His miserable existence might not mean much to him, but he could help others, and he did. Even if they weren’t aware of it.

  Foley had a guardian angel, one covered in tats and with a prison record, but one who could kick serious ass when needed. He’d make sure to shield Foley from Cyn Nichols, if necessary. Women like that fucked a man up better than meth ever could. Addicting and deadly, despite looking innocent on the surface. He’d do some damage control with the woman, just as soon as his buddy stopped mooning over the chick.

  “Shit, Foley. Quit drooling over your redhead, because if you walk around with a boner at work near Lou, he might just take you up on it.”

  Foley
flushed. How cute. “Shut up, dickhead. Lou’s straight, and you know it.”

  “Maybe, but I notice you’re not denying the wood.”

  Foley jumped up from his seat and darted down the hall. “I have to go to the bathroom. And not to jerk off, Sam. Jesus.”

  Sam chuckled, his mood restored. Foley swearing, razzing him. Not dreaming over some stupid woman. Just him and Sam against the world. As it should be.

  * * *

  By Saturday afternoon, Cyn still hadn’t called Foley. She sat in her kitchen, staring at the scrap of paper he’d left behind. She’d plugged his number into her phone under “Big Man,” knowing Nina would never look Foley up under that name if she happened to nose through Cyn’s contacts. Cyn didn’t nickname her associates. All business, even in her social life, she organized with flawless attention to detail. Foley should have been filed under S for Sanders.

  She stared at his number again, wondering why she kept dithering over what to do about him. The orgasm had softened her toward him. The man clearly had skills. He hadn’t asked for more than sex, and God knew it had been a while for her.

  Why not enjoy him? She’d never been one for casual sex, but Foley was nice. He’d helped her with her car, which yes, had needed nothing more than a new battery—or so Matt had said. She’d refused to go down to Webster’s, surrounded by so much testosterone and Foley. Not when she had trouble keeping her thoughts—and lips—to herself.

  She blushed, still amazed she’d turned his nice kiss into a friggin’ orgasm. Yet for all the pleasure Foley had given her, he hadn’t taken his own. What kind of guy did that? Especially with a woman as willing as she’d been. Hell, he could have mounted her outside on her front lawn and she wouldn’t have said no.

  “I’m so easy. And desperate.” She groaned.

  Fortunately, she had no one to hear her but herself. Nina and Matt had decided to put in time at the shop, while Cyn’s nephews helped out their grandparents, getting ready for the annual holiday party.

  Cyn had wondered if she should bring Foley—for about three seconds. Any scent of a man with her, and her mother would no doubt pester and degrade her into a bitter, self-doubting mess by the end of the evening.

 

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