The kiss goes on for a beat longer than is comfortable for us to witness, and I turn to grin at Brad. Brianna and the man, who I’m hoping is her husband after that hot kiss, separate and turn toward us.
“Sorry. I’d say we got carried away, but we’re always like this. McKayla, this is my husband. Honey, this is McKayla, the stylist who opened up a salon in town. And you know Brad, right?”
“Sure do,” Gavin says. “How can I forget the worst dancer at your best friend’s wedding?”
Brad blushes, then glowers at Gavin as they shake hands. “You know, Anaconda, if it wasn’t for the fact that I know you’re lying . . . I’d be tempted to show off a little.”
Gavin laughs before offering a handshake. I think he might squeeze my hand hard enough to accidentally break bones, but he’s surprisingly gentle for his size. “Gavin Adams. It’s a pleasure. I really don’t mean to run out on you guys, but I have to go pick up our son from practice. Takes after his dad, and I gotta admit I’m enjoying it. Honey, you want us to nab anything on the way home?” he says, turning to Brianna.
“No, it’s okay,” Brianna says, giving her husband another hug and a kiss on the cheek. “See you at home.”
Gavin leaves, and a few minutes later, Brad and I leave Brianna after jotting down a few more details. As we walk out, I elbow Brad in the ribs. “Okay, spill it. What’s with the name Anaconda? What, does he hug like one?”
“Hug? No . . . you’re missing a letter in there,” Brad says with a chuckle. We get to my car and get in. “That was Gavin ‘Anaconda’ Adams. He used to be a football star. I haven’t seen a lick of that man playing, but everyone’s seen his accidental wardrobe malfunction. I’ll just put it this way. If there were ever a snake that I wanted to pet, it’s his.”
Evan
“Come on, you son of a bitch,” I grunt as I try to get the spark plug to seat properly in the engine of ‘Fast’ Eddie Ambrose’s customized Mustang. I gotta admit, he’s done a great job of turning the kit job classic ‘Stang and making it bust out of its pony car seams . . . but that means that underneath the hood, there’s not a spare goddamn inch, and sometimes, the arrangement is difficult. Which is why I only work on Eddie’s car at night or in the early morning, when nobody’s around to piss me off.
I finally get my plug socket seated on the head properly when I hear a scream from across the street. It pierces the darkness of near-midnight and makes me drop my wrench, forgotten instantaneously. My heart pounds in my chest as I forget everything, running across the street.
I see McKayla in front of the Triple B, dressed in just a denim skirt and a t-shirt and looking like she’s ready for a late-night run to the supermarket.
I jump the curb, approaching McKayla, who’s wiping her hands on her skirt like she’s got something burning on her palms. “What is it?” I ask, grabbing her hands. “What the fuck is going on?”
McKayla is staring at her hands, her eyes wide and her skin pale, only two big spots of intense color in her cheeks. “Oh, my God, oh, my God!” she yells, looking like she’s about ready to puke. “Eww!”
“McKayla, calm down!” I say firmly as I hold her cheeks in my hands, trying to get her to snap out of whatever the fuck she’s going through. Her eyes focus on me, and I lower my voice, almost dropping to a whisper. “Tell me what’s going on so I can understand you.”
McKayla takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a moment before speaking again in a shaky voice. “I was coming out to get in the car. I was feenin’ for a burger and . . .” Mckayla pauses mid-sentence, her control wavering as she points at the car, her chest hitching. “I found that. Look at that shit!”
I let go of her hands to peer at the black handle of her car, noticing the thick, slightly pale liquid glopped on it. My stomach curls. I know jiz when I see it.
Anger burns through me. What sort of sick fuck does something like this? My hands tremble in rage as I turn and take her hands again. She’s pissed, but also scared, and I totally agree with both. “When did you last see your car?”
“I . . .” she says, still staring at her car, but I lead her away, toward the door of the salon. Away from the disgusting display, she calms a little. “I made a bank run at the end of the night at the salon. That was about eight or so. It’s a short drive. I mean, the bank’s just up the street. Today was a lot of cash, so I didn’t want to walk it up there.”
“Did you see anyone around the car before or when you got back?” I ask. McKayla shakes her head, and I nod. McKayla’s smart. She wouldn’t have let anyone near her car like that. “What about the cops?”
“No,” McKayla says with a strong finality. “I don’t want the local cops getting involved. They’d call it some kid’s prank or something. I’ve already seen the way a couple of them look at me and Brad, like we’re new in town and they don’t really care for us.”
I’d like to disagree with her, but she might be right. I’ve noticed that some people around here seem a little jealous they’ve come into town and hit it off right away. “Okay, we’ll handle it ourselves,” I say. “Gimme your keys.”
“What?” McKayla asks, instantly concerned. “Why?”
“I’m going to get this cleaned up. We’ve got a steam clean unit over at the shop,” I explain.
McKayla nods absently, a tiny smile tipping her mouth up. “Can you drive a car? I’ve only ever seen you on a bike.”
“Cars are easy,” I reply with a easy smirk. “Tanks . . . now those fuckers were hard.”
McKayla gives me a raised eyebrow, seeing whether I’m joking, but hands me her keys. I go around to her car, peeling off my sweaty t-shirt to grab the handle and opening it before sliding behind the wheel and opening the passenger side. “Hop in!”
McKayla gets in and shuts her door, and I quickly drive us into the bay, pulling into the slot closest to the pressure washer. I get out and go around to open her door and help her out. “It’ll take a few minutes for the steam to build up in the washer,” I tell her, flipping the switch. “You want some coffee?”
“No, thanks. God it sounds ridiculous, but I still want that fucking burger,” McKayla says with a dark chuckle. “Think you might be willing to split an order of fries?”
“As tempting as it sounds, I don’t think I’d make a very good date,” I reply. McKayla crosses her arms across her chest and leans against the workbench near her, looking so hot I’m not so sure the steam cleaner needs that much more time to get to pressure.
“What is it with you?” McKayla asks me. “You’ve got this rep around town for being this gigantic asshole. But you’re not. You even try to pretend to be one, but I know assholes. Remember where I’m from. Some people say Hollywood is the asshole of America.”
“They might be right, but I’ve put in my time in the asshole of the world,” I reply, shaking my head. “McKayla, it’s not that I didn’t try to go back to normal after the Army. I just can’t. And I won’t inflict my damage on someone else.”
“What happened?” McKayla asks. “Not over there. I don’t think I’ve earned that right yet, even if I am curious. But what happened when you came back?”
I blink. I think it’s the first time someone’s asked me that question. Lots of people want to know what it’s like ‘in the sandbox’, as some people call it. Like Iraq and Afghanistan are somehow the same place.
But nobody’s ever asked me what it was like coming back. “I couldn’t even sleep the first week I got back, took sleeping pills just to get some rest,” I admit quietly. “But I tried acting normal. I mean, I went out on a few dates. Plenty of girls liked how I looked with a crew cut, and that’s what you do when you get home. But . . .”
“But what?”
I shrug, not wanting to explain just how hard it was dealing with a thousand and one stupid questions or the girls who wanted to show me off like some sort of trophy. Worst of all were the ones who thought they could use me to get their exes jealous and the ones who tried to start shit because of it.
/>
“They couldn’t handle the dark side,” I finally reply. “Definitely not the bad nights. Slowly, I came to figure out that nobody really should be asked to put up with it.”
“So you hide your good side behind a giant layer of fuck off,” McKayla replies. “You know, Evan, not everyone’s looking to just get the benefits. Although you’ve got a lot of them.”
“Yeah, well . . .” I say, going over to the now pressurized washer and grabbing the thick rubber gloves we use to keep down the burns along with the wand for spraying. “I know what you’re asking for, McKayla. I’m flattered, I really am. You’re the most beautiful woman who’s ever shown interest in me. But that’s the exact reason I know you deserve better than me.”
Before she can answer, I hit the trigger on the power washer, spraying the driver side of McKayla’s car with two hundred PSI of hot water and sanitizing chemicals that could clean surgical instruments if we wanted. It doesn’t take long. I have the wand set in wide fan mode so I don’t break her window, but it still raises enough mist that I can’t see shit except for the side of her car when I let go of the trigger and the noise stops.
“There you go,” I reply, inhaling the steam and loving the feeling. “Let me just grab a towel—”
“Fuck the towel,” McKayla says behind me. I turn, surprised she was able to sneak up on me, and I’m even more surprised when I realize she’s pulled off her t-shirt and bra and is wearing just her denim skirt.
“McKayla—”
“Shut the fuck up,” McKayla says, pressing her body against me and grabbing my hair. “We both need this. I’m a big girl. I’m not afraid of the dark.”
She pulls my head down, and at the first touch of our lips, all my resistance melts away. If this woman wants to feel me, all of me, then she’s going to get it. She’s been warned.
I spin her, pressing McKayla’s body up against the warm side of her car as I reach down, running my hand underneath the hem of her skirt to grab her ass and squeeze it tightly. Oh, my God, she’s wearing a thong. Of course she is, my naughty little girl.
I groan into her mouth as I work her skirt up, and McKayla runs her fingernails down my back hard, delicious pain mixing with the heat as she reaches around and cups my cock. There’s no holding back this time, and I pick her up, carrying her to the hood of her car and setting her curvy ass right on the fender. “lie back.”
She does as I command, her eyes going wide as I reach down and undo the button on my jeans, pushing them down. I’m not wearing any underwear. I go commando pretty much everywhere except when I exercise. My cock immediately pops out. McKayla’s eyes go wide, and she unconsciously licks her lips as I spread her legs, pushing her skirt up more.
The sight of her, legs spread nearly into a split and her denim skirt hiked to her waist as her breasts curve naturally and beautifully up and to the side, leaves me breathless. I blink and push her knees up higher, bending down. “What are you doing?”
“What I’ve wanted to do since I first licked your come off my fingers,” I growl as I bend down and kiss her panty-covered pussy. McKayla jumps like I just sent an electric shock through her body, encouraging me to nibble and suck on her pussy through her panties.
I want to rip her panties off like I did her other pair, but I restrain myself. She does need to have something to wear to work.
Instead, I tug her panties to the side and lick her wet folds with my tongue, slipping between them as I let my hunger drive my mouth to consume her pussy. I scoop her juices out with my tongue over and over before pulling out to tease her clit with just the tip of my tongue.
“Fuck . . . oh my fucking . . .” McKayla groans as she reaches down and grabs my head, twisting up a fistful of my hair and grinding her pussy against my face. I lick and suck harder, bringing my hand up to slide two fingers deep inside her and rubbing her deep spot as she cries out. Her cries and shrieks of pleasure guide me as I draw her body all the way up to the point where she’s trembling on the edge of coming before keeping her there, suspended on a tightrope above the canyon, waiting for a single word. “Evan . . .”
“Say please,” I growl against her clit. I lick around her clit, her soaked hairs catching in my stubble and pulling, and I know I’m torturing her, but I need to hear it. “Be good.”
“Please,” McKayla says, her voice rising higher and higher as before she can even get the word out, I suck hard on her clit, sending her crashing over the edge into an orgasm that shakes her from the top of her head all the way to her toes. I feel her heels drum against my back as I clamp my mouth around her pussy and she fills my mouth with her juices, a nectar that’s sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted before.
I stand up, my cock raging harder than ever at the feast I just enjoyed, and pull McKayla’s nearly limp body toward me, rubbing the head of my cock through her folds. “You ready?” I ask before letting go. “Just a second.”
“What?” McKayla asks fearfully, relaxing when I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet. It’s been there at least a year, but old habits die hard, and my condom’s still there. “Hmm . . . not so bad a boy after all.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl, but I’m amused as I roll the condom down my cock. Really, it’s just as much for my pleasure as it is for protection. I haven’t been inside a woman in a long time and I’m afraid I’m going to bust a nut in thirty seconds if I don’t have something to dim the fire just a tad. “You’re going to get fucked harder than you’ve ever been fucked before.”
“Good,” McKayla says, wrapping her legs around my waist. I line the head of my cock up and push forward. Her pussy seems to flow around my cock in a perfect velvety, clingy, tight embrace that takes my breath away before I stop.
I look down, seeing the pain in her eyes, but she’s not complaining about the feeling of my cock filling her. Still, I pause, grinding against her and letting her adjust while I lean down to kiss her stiff nipple, sucking on it and feasting on her body again until I feel her relax, running her hands through my hair again. Pulling back, I thrust again, filling her all the way until I feel my balls press against the warm curve of her ass.
“You’re fucking tight,” I growl around her nipple as I look up into her beautiful face, all big eyes and pink hair and sexy tremble to her lips. “You ready?”
She nods, her voice yanked from her throat as I pull back and thrust again. Even if I’m wearing a condom, I’m not able to hold back, and I fuck her hard, slamming my cock deep into her with every stroke. Each one is fabulous, and fucking McKayla is like nothing I’ve ever experienced with a woman before. It feels like her body was made just for me as my hips smack against hers and I kiss up to her mouth again, pounding her against the hood of her car until she’s gasping for breath. “Oh, fuck, Evan, you make me . . .”
I cry out, biting her lip as I come and push her over again, her fingernails digging harder than ever into my back. I can feel a delicious pain as she breaks my skin, and part of me is happy about it, loving the pain as I fill the condom with jets of my thick seed.
McKayla clutches me to her as she rides her own orgasmic rollercoaster, and when it’s all over, she strokes my face once, smirking. “Damn . . . that was better than I’ve dreamed about all week.”
“McKayla, this doesn’t mean—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she says, still smiling. “You’re an asshole, this can’t be a relationship, yada, yada, yada. I get it. But still . . . that was one amazing fuck. And from what I see in your eyes, you’re thinking the same thing right now.”
She’s right, and I shrug. “Well . . . your car’s clean.”
“‘Ish,” McKayla says. “How much do I owe you?”
I just smile, withdrawing and cleaning myself up. “If that sort of shit ever happens again, gimme a call.”
“Don’t know your number, and I’ve got a terrible post-sex memory. You need to come across the street and write it down for me.”
I know what she’s doing, but fuck it. I g
et myself buttoned back up and even grab a semi-clean t-shirt from the office while McKayla gets her things back on, and I climb into the passenger seat as she drives back across the street. In the glove box, I find a pen and a piece of paper, where I write down my number. “Here you go. Don’t lose it.”
McKayla gives me a show of folding up the number and tucking it inside the cup of her bra, grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll program it into my phone as soon as I get upstairs. Walk me to the door?”
I get out and walk McKayla the short distance to the front door of the salon. Unlocking the door, she sighs. “Thanks, Evan. Really. Not for the fuck, though that was great. But for everything before that too.”
“You’re welcome.” I lean in for some unknown reason and give McKayla a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry about the sick fucking prank. You’ll be fine.”
McKayla gives me a smile and gives me a kiss back on my cheek before opening the door and going inside, locking it behind her. From the digital clock on the counter, I see it’s nearly one in the morning, but I don’t feel sleepy at all as I watch her disappear into the back of the shop, a light turning on for a moment in a stairwell before she closes the door.
I turn to head back to the garage, and just as I step into the street, there’s a roar of a powerful engine. Bright lights flare, blinding me as I quickly jump back. A big sedan narrowly misses me as it goes roaring down the street toward downtown.
“What the fuck?” I start to yell before stopping myself. I still can’t see much. My vision’s still a little dazzled by the lights, and the car’s too far away now, but there’s a disquieting feeling in my stomach that whatever this ‘prank’ against McKayla was, it’s a lot more than some kid doing something stupid.
I wait for my eyes to clear before crossing the street again, going back inside the shop and rolling the doors down. I look through the narrow plastic window in the door at the Triple B and make a decision.
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