His arms were crossed over the same broad chest, and he was looking at her with a gleam in his eyes. “Ms. Smith, did you do what Sheriff Carson said?”
“He made it all up, DA Carson. I’m innocent.” Sarah actually felt her girly parts dripping again.
“Well then, I believe I’ll need to question you prior to seeing if you will perform some clerical work for your community service. My legal briefs are in a bind and need straightening out.”
Sarah Smith-Carson walked into her house, following Cain and being followed by Able. A woman could only be lucky enough to have two husbands who understood her the way hers did…
Special Delivery
Susan Saxx
Alex Jordan groaned.
She’d delivered the wrong part. The wrong fucking part. So much for building up her business, Intimate Deliveries, by single-handedly capturing the biggest account in the downtown core.
Damn. She needed this account.
Nothing else on earth would have led her to abandon safety and traverse the length of the never-ending, dark industrial unit late at night, with a man she didn’t know, in a commercial shop closed up against the late December snow.
On New Year’s Eve, no less.
And now she and this dude, Rand Peters, were at the very back, in an enclosed room holding a bunch of lathes. He’d had to try to fit the part she’d brought to the machine they’d ordered it for and found it was the wrong part. Hell.
Now, here they were, waiting for the replacement. Alone. Together.
No one else around.
She adjusted her stance for the umpteenth time as Duane yammered on in the cell phone at her ear, the trendy low boot that was part of her self-imposed uniform pinching. The day had been a long one, and she was so ready to get out of the uniform, party with her bffs, and forget the last year had ever happened.
Instead, she was here with a stranger.
This isn’t me. This isn’t my life.
She was used to being taken care of, used to being driven in chauffeur-driven limousines. She’d never had to go into any situation she didn’t deem one hundred percent safe, unless, hell, she wanted to. A few raves, some upscale night clubs—those had been her choice. But things had changed.
Oh boy, had they changed.
The stark reality was, if she could deliver that fucking part, the account was hers. She could eat again. Maybe not escargot and the fancy shit that used to be her fare in the past, but food. And feed her mother, too—the woman who still didn’t want to believe what had happened had really happened.
Rand Peters wasn’t hard to look at, that was for sure. Over the last year, she’d caught him eyeing her every time she’d popped in. Rand was built. She’d tried to discount his fluid, yet powerful, movements as he hefted parts, that blue uniform masking all the interesting bits underneath.
And the glances he’d tossed her way. Fervent. Those deep, intense blue eyes focused on her, the sensuality and barely concealed intentions…um…barely concealed.
He stood there now, leaning against a workbench littered with tools and metal. “You may be on your cell for a while,” he said softy, while he scrutinized her with his gaze. “Your lifeline.”
Fiery tingles of lust radiated through her at his voice, especially in that low, intense tone. Even though no one else was there, a dozen people could have been in the room and she would’ve known his words were meant only for her.
Hell.
The sexual chemistry, or whatever it was, pinged between them. Taunting her with no, you can’t.
Madness.
And what the hell did he know about her business life? As long as metal met metal he was fine. Sure, he was right—her whole life was in her cell—and yeah, she was never separated from it. Ever. A person had to have goals and had to work hard to reach them.
But apparently, he hadn’t heard her unspoken diatribe, because he came toward her, a wad of clean rags in his fist. She caught his scent, that of the cold when they’d opened the door, mingled with grease and hard-working male.
Her toes curled.
Seductive. Carnal. He placed the rags on a dirty office chair, pulled it over and positioned it close to her ass, deliberately not looking, though he was close. He patted the seat with that big hand and gave her a pointed look. “Rest.”
So, he’d noticed.
He straightened, impaled her again with that I know who you are gaze. And her pussy tightened.
The dude would be a bad, bad career move. He was one world. She was clawing her way back to another.
And then there was Luc. Luc—whom, with a few more nudges, might be her official boyfriend. His type, the uber-rich, were so careful regarding status. “Girlfriend” was only a checkmark away from fiancé then spouse.
That he’d rather be with his stuffy parents on New Year’s Eve in the Hamptons than with her burned.
Other things, hard to overlook of late, had happened, like the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am way he’d fucked her the last few months.
And Rand was watching her again. Noting every flicker of sensation on her face, it seemed.
Too much time had passed since anyone had looked at her with such desire.
A dangerous combination. A man who sure wanted a helping and who had wanted it for a solid year.
She checked her text messages, while Duane droned on. Halley, Kelley, Tish… Nothing from Luc. Fuck. Her boyfriend, for all intents and purposes. Nothing from him.
Mercifully, Duane was done explaining.
She clicked off the cell with a flourish then caught Rand’s blue eyes as he watched her lay it on the table, and something in her halted.
Yes? No?
She gave it a spin.
“You’re putting it down?” The incredulity hung in the semi-darkness.
So, he’d noticed that too.
Well, no time like the present to make a change.
Turning to him and raising her eyebrows, she nodded. “I may be slow, but…” She slid her gaze over him, and her tummy burned. The erect stance, the prominent muscles, solid. Relaxed yet taut. At the ready. Everything about this dude was ready. And willing. “When I make a decision, I’m all over it.”
His jaw tightened, and his breath hitched. His fingers coiled around the rag he held, the knuckles going pale.
She strode to the bank of light switches on the side wall, aware that he followed her with his gaze. Maybe it was too late now to back down. She didn’t want to be a cock-tease, but she did pick who she did the nasty with.
And up until now, that guy had been Luc. Only Luc.
Should she do this?
At the wall, she reached up to flick off the first light at the far left of the off-white panel, dirty with greasy fingerprints. She felt a curious thrill when the main overhead light switched off and a yellow emergency light immediately kicked in. She flicked off the next one, deliberately. Another light dimmed. The next one. Somewhere out in back another area went to black.
The tiny machine shop, the little room at the back of the industrial unit, was now bathed in a half-glow amber.
Seductive. Dark. She’d made her decision.
She strode back in the eerie light and stood before him, one eyebrow raised. She was aware she was mocking him—or was that issuing a challenge? “So, Peters. You were saying?” Propping one hand on her hip, she tipped up her chin, waiting for a reaction.
No response, just that dark stare.
Disappointment lodged in her chest. So. Another guy—all talk, no action?
Whatever. Whatever possessed me to—
“How much do you like this blouse?”
Her gaze skimmed his face, and oh yes. Something discordant danced behind those brown eyes. “Why don’t you find out?”
Hooking his index finger in the open neckline, he pulled sharply.
She was revealed.
In one swift movement, he bent to her chest, pushed aside her favorite fuchsia lace bra with his grimy fingers, and suddenly, seamle
ssly, his mouth was on her breast.
Her heart pounded in her throat as the man inhaled her nipple, making it the center of his universe. Fuck.
He pulled on it, drew it into his mouth.
She stumbled back a step, her ass connecting with the edge of the roughhewn worktable. Her fingertips curled over the edge, grasping at it as he laved her. His stubble stabbed at her sensitive flesh, and she became aware of his tongue…tasting her. Tasting her, as if he never wanted to forget her. Sucking her to extreme sensitivity. She moaned, the tugs of his mouth a symphony jolting burning sensations to her core.
He moaned, and his head bobbed as he worked in the confines of the small space, pleasuring her.
And whatever the man was doing, he gave his focused attention. She was vaguely aware of his calloused hand moving to circle her, and her bra was unhooked then slid away. She groaned as his index finger and thumb positioned her breast for his pleasure.
And hers. Oh my God.
Holy hell, the man could pleasure women for a living. What the hell was he doing working here?
His hand snaked to her ass and connected with the worktable edge pushing into her. A grunt, and he stopped abruptly.
Blinking, confusion swirled through her.
“Sorry. Where were we?” He fixed an intent look on her.
She was struck with the deep cobalt of his eyes as he planted his hands on her waist. The consuming hunger in them overwhelmed her, and her legs trembled.
She clutched at his back, feeling the almost silky flow of his shirt. Perspiration beaded her brow. He was starting to push down her pants and panties. She could barely wait until…
Her cell phone trilled.
“I have to… I need to…” She felt the heaviness of his hands as they curved intimately on her shoulder.
He pivoted her toward the device. “Take your time. I’ll do you wherever and however long you want, don’t worry. I’ve got nowhere else to be, other than in your sweet pussy.”
His deep voice rasped along her skin. A strange, tentative warmth stole over her.
“Everywhere. Every bloody inch of this plant will have your come on it.”
Focus. Focus. You can do this. She reached across the worktable, aware of his hand resting possessively on her ass, while she stretched her arm and bent deep to get the phone, her erect nipple skimming the rough surface, raking it ever so gently.
Flicking open the silver phone, she forced her voice to remaine even. “Did you find it, Duane?"
Eager to report on his progress, Duane launched into another story. But she listened for the key piece of info then did what was suddenly very necessary. “Whatever you say. Take care of it. Gotta go.” And she flicked shut the phone like a silver clam.
Nervous energy raced through her. She palmed the phone then sent it skittering away, rattling over the wood surface until it was far out of reach, amidst rusty cans and paperwork…buried.
Her old life. Flying away.
“Ok. Let’s go,” came Rand’s husky voice
She shut her eyes tight for a second and nodded. She wanted to savor this moment.
For so long, Luc had been her only lover. Not just in her bed, but in her view-screen. If he’d been a Viking, his name would have been Luc the Unattainable. “I’m—”
Rand didn’t give her a chance to finish. He whirled her to him and took her mouth with a savage groan.
The action knocked the breath out of her lungs. The man kissed her like she was his own private harlot, claiming her lips and driving open her mouth.
The euphoria of being taken so abruptly spun out of control. She hadn’t expected this, the sensation of being singularly devoured like this, and it made her spirit soar.
Luc never kisses me like this. The disloyal thought ratcheted through her. And the next second, all thoughts of Luc evaporated as her heart sped and the scalding demand of her body shot through her.
Heat poured from him as he molded his fingers down her muscles, teasing the sinews. His other hand hooked around the small of her back as he pulled her ass greedily against his hardened cock.
A shudder raced through her, and she ground her core toward him.
He groaned as his bulge fit against her, molding to her. He filled the space between her legs, eliminating room for anything to come between them.
He was stiff. Glorious. Good and hard. Hard and good. Yes. She wanted intimate knowledge of him. The delicious length and breadth of him spreading her into submission and into the deepest pleasure.
And then he jerked her away from the worktable at dizzying speed, and she found herself against the wall. Slammed abruptly against it.
The thud forced out her breath. His cheek was flush against hers, and his scent was everywhere, erotic and demanding. His lips caressed her ear, his hot breath sensitizing the small hairs, sending shivers through her body to her pussy.
“Here. Right here. I’ve seen you, just like this, in my dreams, Alex.”
The first time he’d said her name.
Then his thumbs were at her temples, his hands cupping her face, drawing her to him, as the fierce whisper erupted from him, “Naked. Open—to me. Your fucking sexy got-to-have-it-in-my-hands ass in my hands, or I’ll fucking burst. Hitching you up. Getting you in position. For me. For my cock.” His hands rose to her shoulders, and then they were all over her blouse.
Yeah, it had been white. Not so much now. Creeping under the collar against her skin, he drew it off her shoulders. She felt it fall down her back onto the greasy floor at her feet.
Rough hands palmed her breasts as she gasped, molding the firm globes for his pleasure. “Oh, baby.”
“As good as Miss August over there?” She could barely talk, but she had to say something. Root herself into reality.
He groaned. “Better than a fucking thousand of them.”
Elation flew through her. Now. She wanted him. Her fingers groped the front of his uniform to slide open the buttons, revealing his chest as he tackled the waist of her cargo pants, fumbling to release them from her quaking body.
She caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the glass panel of the wall opposite them. Head thrust back, neck arched and exposed. Propped against a wall. Eyes half shuttered, rounded, naked breasts. A lathe operator’s hands shoving down her pants.
She was just a piece of hot ass for this guy she’d just met. A Christmas bonus. That was the start and end of it.
But…he was just a hot piece of ass for her too, and the knowledge made her smile. He was willing. He wanted to. And hell. He’d lit something inside her, and she was damn well going to enjoy him.
If he did everything as well as he kissed…
By god, what he could do with those hands. That mouth. And she damn well intended to enjoy every second.
She moaned as he crouched low, skimming his tongue across the top of her lacey panties. Her fingers splayed against the cold concrete wall. “Rand. God.”
He laughed, his hot breath fanning her pussy. “Oh, baby, we’re just getting started.” He inserted his thumbs under the edges of the fabric framing her crotch.
Damn. If he would just rip them from her body, she’d be good. All naked and glistening for Rand Peters to pillage. She tried to give him better access, but the pants around her work-boots got in the way. She tried to wiggle to get them off, to no avail. “Get rid of my pants, okay?”
He tugged them lower and started to pull them off, but her work-boots and the thick rubber soles stalled any efforts.
Irritation flared through her. “Get them off me!”
She felt his hot breath on her thighs, pleasure just out of reach and driving her out of her mind. Her fingertips clawed into the gritty concrete. And her half-shed pants were still hindering her movement.
But instead of helping her, he moved in close, with an exhalation akin to laughter.
Oh, he’d heard her. But something else was on his mind.
“Don’t like being obstructed, pretty girl? Bound?”
She fought him after the first few unexpected seconds, her mouth open to him, her tongue warring with his. Jousting.
The lip battle went on for minutes. Lost in a world of their own making, time stretched and became elastic, eternal. All she knew was his rough breathing, his mouth on hers, their breath and essence entwined in the emptiness of the machine shop. Hearts beating hard, like drums being slapped and forced to make noise.
And her spirit ascended, even as he held out her arms, pressed her naked chest to his broad one, and took her in that magnificent knockout of a kiss.
When they slid toward a timeout together, she remembered where she was. Murphy’s Manufacturing. Way in the back. Among the silhouettes of hulking machinery in the semi-dark.
And with who. How could she forget when he finally broke the kiss, allowing them both to come up for air. He pressed his lips to her ear and laughed hoarsely, still holding her arms stretched. “Alex. That was fucking fantastic.”
Shivers flew up and down her. Fuck, yeah. It’d been fantastic. “It was. Rand…”
His words vibrated against her ear. “No, Alex. You’ve got it wrong. I’m not Rand. I’m your Master.”
Her core gushed again. She probably had a flood down there by now. Pouring all over the concrete, until he fucked her.
And that was what she wanted now.
She’d never played that way, but this was no longer play, but necessity. For her. “Master,” she breathed. Anything to give her relief.
He laughed throatily, and she felt his heart pounding against her chest as he squashed her breasts mercilessly. “I like this new person I’m dealing with, Alex.”
Good god. Conversation. When all she wanted was to be fucked with that big dick he still hadn’t uncovered.
“Ah, don’t be mad, sweetness, there’s so much more fun to be had. So many more boundaries to be pushed.” He trailed his lips from her temple, slick with sweat, down to her cheek. “You like pushing boundaries, don’t you? Seeing how far you can go?” He thrust his tongue inside her lips, forcing them open. Then followed up with quick little jabs, wet and firm.
Blue Collar (A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology Book 2) Page 15