Crashed (Entangled Indulgence)

by Sherilee Gray

  As much as she wanted to, she didn’t think ignoring him and pretending none of this was happening would make him go away.

  “Do you like it?” he said as soon as she answered. She didn’t miss the way his voice had deepened, sounding rougher than usual. Obviously he liked it.

  Her traitorous body instantly fired to life at the sound of his voice, the memory of how he’d growled dirty things to her in the darkness. How she’d become putty in his hands when he’d taken control of her body, how she’d loved every second of it.

  Gah! She squeezed her eyes closed. She had to stop thinking of that night.

  She wasn’t going to fall all over him just because he bought her a damn dress. No way would she make this easy for him. “How did you find the time to get it? I only agreed to be your sexual plaything last night.”

  He was quiet for several seconds. “Don’t say that, Alex. That’s not what this is.” He sounded pissed.

  She wasn’t touching that with a barge pole. “Sorry, does escort suit you better?”

  He growled. “Alex…”

  The rough sound sent an erotic tingle down her spine. “Whatever. I take it this is what you want me to parade around in for you tonight?”

  “Yes. There should be shoes there as well?”

  He was back to being Mr. Chill. Good. This was an arrangement, a deal—granted, a sick and twisted one—but in the end they’d both get what they wanted, nothing more. The building would be out of his hands, and she’d never have to answer to him again, and that’s all that mattered.

  He’d said himself he wasn’t interested in a committed relationship, and she’d do well to remember it.

  “Worried I’ll embarrass you in front of all your stuffy suit friends?”

  He sighed. “No. But cutoffs and a Metallica T-shirt won’t fit the dress code. We’d be turned away at the door.” He was quiet a heartbeat. “And I wanted to do something nice for you.”

  Jesus. If he tried to be nice, she wouldn’t survive the next few months. “Well, you’ll have to excuse me for questioning your motives. I’ve recently learned your good deeds come at a high price.”

  She could almost hear his teeth grinding down the line. “I’ll see you at my place at seven thirty sharp.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Yes. You will.” Then the phone went dead.

  Crap.

  …

  Deacon looked at his watch. His little viper should be here any minute.

  He’d been off his game all day, his mind fixed on Alex. After their phone conversation this morning, he’d begun to doubt his plan. But drastic situations called for drastic measures.

  She was afraid of her own feelings, afraid of what might happen if she got close to him. He’d seen the way she looked out for his sisters. The way she almost clung to them. She was afraid all the time, afraid that one day she might lose them, too.

  But she hadn’t been able to hide her response to him when he’d shown up at her place. He’d seen the longing in her eyes. So much so, he’d been tempted to come clean, tell her everything, tell her the way he felt, but then that fear, that wariness had rushed forward and she’d withdrawn from him, throwing up that damn wall. He knew in that moment his only option was to move forward, continue on with his plan. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, he knew this, but if he eased up, gave her an inch, told her the truth, she’d run a mile. He just had to chip away her defenses, get under her skin, prove to her that she could trust him, that he wouldn’t disappear on her.

  Not this time.

  He’d let security at his apartment know Alex was coming. She would be spending a lot of time with him over the next three months, and he wanted her to come and go as she pleased.

  He wasn’t surprised when the quiet, almost hesitant knock came. He didn’t waste time answering it, afraid she’d change her mind and run before he got there.

  When he opened the door and laid eyes on her, he was glad he still held the door handle. His mouth went dry and his dick hardened at the sight of her. She was wearing the dress he’d picked out. He’d had a friend of his open her shop after Alex had agreed to his conditions. As soon as he’d seen it, he’d known it was the one.

  The deep red was the same shade as the petals tattooed on her upper arm and shoulder, and the dress hugged her curves in all the right places. He dropped his gaze and stifled a groan. The shoes looked sexy as hell, and slightly edgy, like the woman herself.

  He’d never seen her in heels before—never seen her in a dress, for that matter. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, her gaze darting everywhere but at him. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his apartment, and when she did finally look up at him, he could see she was trying to appear unaffected. But she was biting her lower lip, something he knew she did when she was nervous.

  “You look stunning.”

  “Um…thanks.” Her gaze darted away again, widened. “Holy crap, this place is huge.” Her hair hung down her back, sleek and sexy. His fingers itched to reach out and touch.

  He chuckled. “Thanks. I like it.”

  She eyed him, and he saw that spark she got right before she put someone in their place. “It wasn’t a compliment. The place is like a mausoleum.”

  “Do you plan on being a brat for the whole evening?”

  “Haven’t decided.”

  She was nervous and purposely trying to piss him off. What she didn’t know was that he loved that feisty side of her nature, just not when she was using it to protect herself.

  He ran his hands over her bare shoulders. “This is our first official date.”

  The pulse in her throat fluttered madly. She shrugged. “I guess.”

  “I don’t want you to be worried about tonight. My meeting is an informal one, just drinks and some dinner with a client.”

  Her brow scrunched. “I’m not worried. I couldn’t care less what your client”—she lifted her fingers, adding air quotes—“thinks of me.”

  He ignored her rancor and cupped the side of her face. She stilled but then licked her lips. Always a contradiction. “You know what tonight means, being our first official date?”

  “That you’ve officially lost your mind and crossed over to the dark side?”

  He brushed his thumb across her jaw, and she leaned in, swaying a little closer. He didn’t even think she was aware she was doing it. Her body was saying the opposite of that smart mouth. She couldn’t hide the way he affected her, no matter how hard she tried.

  “No.” He dipped his head so his mouth was half an inch from hers, close enough he could feel the way her warm breath rushed from between her parted lips. “It means I can kiss you…whenever I want.”

  But he didn’t. He waited, needing her to close the gap, to show him she wanted this as much as he did. Her hands went to his shoulders, fingers digging in, and she pushed. There was no real feeling behind it, so he held his ground.

  Alex stood there, breath coming harder, faster.

  Shit. His gut twisted.

  Just when he thought it wouldn’t happen and this whole plan had been the biggest mistake of his life, that Alex didn’t want him and he’d have to give her up and walk away, she stopped pushing, gripped the front of his jacket, and going up on her tiptoes, tugged him closer.

  Her lips collided with his, and as soon as they did, she whimpered into his mouth. Yes.

  He kissed her like he’d been aching to for months, and she returned it just as fiercely, her tongue sliding against his in that amazing uninhibited way he would never get enough of.

  He slid his hands from her waist up to her beautiful breasts, and she made a strangled sound but pushed closer. He lightly nipped her lower lip, and she kissed him back harder, thrusting her fingers into his hair, and held him there so he wouldn’t stop. God, her reaction to his touch made his dick strain and his balls ache. How would he get through dinner with her right beside him?

  He brushed his thumbs across the hardened peaks of her nipples and nearly came in
his pants when he felt the small bar that went through the right one. He groaned and tore his mouth from hers. “Fuck, Alex. You’ve had your nipple pierced?”

  She was still clutching his jacket and sucked on his lip before answering. “Yeah, and my belly button.”

  Deacon slid his arms under her ass, lifted her off the floor, strode to the living room, and deposited her on the couch. If he took her to his room, they’d never leave the apartment. He could cancel his business dinner, but he didn’t think that was the best idea. As much as he wanted her, and he did, painfully so, he knew rushing things wouldn’t help his cause where Alex was concerned.

  One taste before they left would have to do.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, voice breathless, needy.

  His answer was to drop to his knees in front of her. “One taste, Alex. Just one.” She sucked in a breath when he slipped a thin strap off her shoulder and pulled down her dress to reveal one perfect pink nipple. A metallic purple bar pierced the delicate flesh, which puckered further under his heated gaze.

  “Do you have any idea how hot that is?”

  She lifted her chin and smirked. “I’ve been told once or twice.”

  Was she trying to piss him off? Hurt him? More than likely. The idea of another man seeing her like this, touching her, drove him insane. “Well, for the next three months you’re mine, Alex. Nobody else sees you like this. Do you understand?”

  He brushed his thumb over the peak again. This time without her dress covering her, and she gasped. “It’s not like you’ve given me any other choice.”

  “Exactly, so don’t fight it. Enjoy what I can do for you, what we can do for each other.” He bent down and sucked the purple bar into his mouth. The metal was warm from her body heat, and he groaned. He swirled his tongue, sucking hard, then tugged on her tender flesh while he continued to stroke the other one through her dress.

  He glanced up. “Do you like that? Do you like it when I tug the barbell in that perfect little nipple?”

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  Her fingers were in his hair, and she fisted it almost painfully as she held him to her. She was still fighting it, fighting the way he made her feel. She squirmed, and he knew she was already wet for him. He shoved her dress higher so he could get between her legs.

  Spreading her thighs, he pulled her to the edge of the couch so he had better access and rubbed his erection against her hot center. “Shit, Alex. You can feel it, can’t you, feel it between your thighs, deep inside, when I suck you into my mouth?” She wrapped her legs around his waist and kept him where she wanted him.

  “Yes.”

  “Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

  She nodded, whimpering.

  Shit. He sucked harder and ground against her. He could feel her heated flesh through his trousers but resisted the urge to free his dick, shove her panties aside, and fuck her hard right then and there. He didn’t want to rush this. He wanted to take his time, to savor her.

  He palmed her ass and thrust against her, while he squeezed the other breast and gave the bar in his mouth another sharp tug.

  She cried out, coming apart in his arms. He wanted to hear his name on her lips, but it was only a matter of time, he’d make sure of it. She yanked his hair again, holding him against her until her cries died and her body went soft and pliant.

  He pulled back and looked down at her. So beautiful. “Next time I plan on watching you when you come.” It took serious self-control, but he lifted her straps back up, pulled her dress down over her thighs, and sat back on his heels. “We need to get going.”

  Cheeks flushed and bottom lip swollen from biting on it, she looked adorable and sexy and confused as hell. She glanced down at the front of his pants and arched a brow. “You can’t go out in public like that.”

  He chuckled, then kissed her lush mouth one more time because he couldn’t stop himself. “I have the drive to get myself under control. Maybe you can take care of it when we get back?”

  Yeah, she liked that idea. It was written all over her face, even if she tried to hide it.

  She shrugged. “Up to you if you want to go out with a boner like some creepy old perv.”

  “I’m only three years older than you.”

  Her red lips lifted in a cheeky grin, and his gut twisted. “Yeah? Well, you look much older.”

  He laughed and pulled her off the couch. “Come on, you little deviant. Let’s go get this dinner over with. I’m not close to being finished with you.”

  Her smile slipped, and she crossed her arms.

  He tugged her closer. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She pushed past him and strode to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He grabbed her hand before she walked out the door without him. He wouldn’t let her put distance between them, not ever again. Tonight was only the beginning.

  He just had to convince her to take a chance and love again.

  Chapter Four

  Oh my God, I’m a complete and utter slut. So much for making him work for it. She would have dropped her panties right there in his living room after the orgasm he’d given her. Her face heated. How would she survive this?

  She was supposed to resist, be strong—instead she’d wrapped her legs around his hips and rubbed up against him like a dog in heat until she got off.

  Martin was waiting for them by the Mercedes when they came down from the apartment. He stepped forward as they approached and opened the door for her, which made her feel uncomfortable. Since when did a mechanic’s son, who’d spent half his life in coveralls with grease on his hands, need someone to open his damn door?

  She looked at Deacon, who still had hold of her hand even though she’d tried to wrench her fingers free from his grasp several times. “Why the hell do you need a chauffeur?” She heard Martin chuckle under his breath as she climbed in. “Shit, sorry, Martin.”

  Martin winked and went around to take the driver’s seat.

  Deacon slipped an arm around her waist and slid her closer to him in the backseat. “Martin’s driving us tonight so I can focus all my attention on you.” His hand took hers and then rested them on his solid, warm thigh. The muscle beneath jumped and things down below started to fire up all over again. She tried to slide her hand out from under his.

  “Give it up, Alex. I’m not letting you go.”

  Great. She needed some distance, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. And sitting here, plastered together, while his fingers lightly stroked her waist was starting to get her all hot and bothered. “So who are these old farts we’re meeting tonight?” It was the unsexiest thing she could think of in that moment.

  He smiled, all masculine gorgeousness. And dammit, that set off some more happy tingles down south. The guy had a killer smile, always had, and he knew how to use it. “What makes you think Jarrod’s an old fart?”

  “Aren’t all you business types a pack of premature-aging stuffed suits?” She congratulated herself when his eyes narrowed at her.

  He leaned in and brushed his lips against her ear. Did he know how much she loved when he kissed her there, how much it affected her? “You’ll pay for that when we get back to my place. I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.”

  She swallowed hard and turned to look out the window. All the witty comebacks she’d had swirling in her head went poof, vanished into thin air with those huskily spoken words. She squeezed her thighs together, the tingles upping their assault, and squirmed in her seat.

  Deacon’s soft laugh drifted over her, like he could read her mind, like he knew exactly how much she wanted him despite her attempts to convince him otherwise. Arrogant prick. She swiveled around and socked him in the arm.

  “Hey.” He held up both hands. “What was that for?” He rubbed at his shoulder, and his bottom lip popped out. And all she could think was that she wanted to lean in and suck on it, lick it. Dammit. If mind bleach was a thing, she’d totally wash him from her memories. Era
se the day she’d ever laid eyes on Deacon West.

  “Just stop acting like an ass. And FYI, you can’t pull off cute, so stick your lip back in.”

  He reached down and squeezed her ass. “Fine, I’ll stick with what I do best.”

  Hand finally free, she quickly crossed her arms so he couldn’t get hold of it again. He shrugged and rested his big, warm hand high on her thigh instead. That was so much worse. She made a note for future reference.

  When they got to the restaurant, Deacon took hold of her hand again as soon as she stepped out of the car. This time she didn’t try to pull free—there was no use, and besides, the jerk would probably grab her ass as an alternative.

  But that wasn’t the only reason, and though she’d never admit it to him, she was nervous about meeting these bigwig business types. What could she possibly have to talk about with people like that? The only thing she knew about were cars, and she doubted the suits Deke hung with had the first clue what was under the hood of their expensive sports cars, let alone could dream of getting grease under their manicured fingernails.

  The woman at the door led them to the back of the room. The only person there was a guy about Deke’s age.

  “Jarrod,” Deacon said and walked straight over to him. She should have guessed. He was all suited up the same. They looked like a couple of Ken dolls in their dark suits and slicked-back hair. “Good to see you.”

  Jarrod took his hand in a firm shake. “Glad you could make it.”

  Deacon slid his arm around her waist. “This is Alex.”

  Jarrod took her hand, lifting it to his mouth. “Lovely to meet you, Alex.” He gave her a crooked grin, one she suspected got a lot of women to drop their panties, and pressed his lips to her skin. Yeah, he was a good-looking guy, but she suspected he knew it, too.

  “You, too.” She pulled her hand free, and his grin upped in wattage.

  They took their seats, and the guys started talking. Which was pretty much how it continued for the next hour. All in all, the evening was going better than she’d thought it would. They mainly ignored her while they talked business. And since she had no clue what they were going on about, or why Deacon had bothered to bring her in the first place, she spent the time people watching and enjoying the free food and alcohol.