Jacked Up (Hard n' Dirty)

by Jane Henry

  I walk closer and feel my eyes go wide. Wow. They’re all…her. But they’re not candid shots taken at family vacations, but professionally done. She’s wearing a bikini in one on the beach, and in another she’s holding a man’s hand. I frown. Who the fuck is that? He’s got a polo shirt on and cargo shorts, and the two of them are standing at the beach like they’re models for a surf club.

  Models? I frown, turn back and go to her room. Is she a model?

  Is she…single?

  Maybe something I should’ve found out before I fucked her senseless.

  I stand in the doorway and look in. She’s dead asleep, her arm strewn over her head like a carefree child. She’s beautiful and sweet like this. I’ll find out what I need to tomorrow. I tuck the blanket in around her.

  “Get some sleep, princess,” I whisper. “You’ve got work early tomorrow, and your boss doesn’t like latecomers.”

  I scrawl a note on her desk, and head home.

  Chapter Seven

  Tanya

  I wake sometime in the middle of the night and realize he’s gone. I should have expected it, but I still don’t like it. It makes me feel sort of cheap that he just fucked me and left me like that, but I guess it’s probably best this way. I mean, I’m me and he’s…him, and there’s no way anything between us could ever be more than a quick fuck. It saddens me but I’m so tired I roll over and fall right back asleep until my alarm rings the next morning.

  I glance at my phone, but there’s no message. Does Levi use a cell phone? I realize I’ve never seen one in his hands.

  My ass aches from the spanking—no, spankings—he gave me, and I’m sore from being fucked by him. I should be maybe embarrassed to see him today. Like a normal girl would be ashamed. I called him daddy, bent over his desk for a spanking, and fucked him in my own bed. I’m not, though. I don’t regret a damn thing. I haven’t had sex like that in…well, ever.

  I shudder when I remember sex with Leon. He talked incessantly, and it wasn’t the pleasant kinda filthy talk I want to hear but sorta creepy. I really don’t need a play by play about every single move a guy’s gonna make in bed, how hard he is, and exactly when he’s planning on coming. He was in good shape and was decent enough, but sex was…lackluster. And weird.

  Last night, though. Last night was a night to remember.

  Today I pick a somewhat more sensible outfit that I can work in that still looks good. A designer dark-washed denim skirt with a fitted, olive-colored top with a delicate picot edge and sturdy but still cute ballet-flats. Casual but nice. I twist my hair into a long, long braid and let it hang over my shoulder, then grab a pair of gold hoops. It’s a lot simpler than my usual clothes, but I’ve got work to do. It isn’t until I’m making my bed that a note flutters to the floor I hadn’t seen before. I pick it up and smile to myself.

  Good morning, princess. Get yourself some breakfast and meet me at the shop early. I’d like to give you a good morning kiss, and your boss might not be happy if you’re late. Your car’s in your assigned spot, keys on the counter. xx Levi

  My heart flutters in my chest and I smile. Well that was cute. Funny, when I first met him the word cute didn’t seem to go with his growly nature at all, but now… I shake my head. Nothing can happen between us, so it won’t be smart for me to start getting all heartsick and shit over this. I have two weeks with him and hell, I’m going to make the most of it. Nothing real will ever happen between us. It can’t. But who says we can’t enjoy two weeks together?

  It’s sorta sweet he told me to make sure I get some breakfast. I like that. It’s like he’s watching out for me or something.

  I don’t have much in the way of breakfast foods here, so I hit the coffee shop before work and grab myself a bagel with a veggie cream cheese shmear, and a box of muffins for the guys. I park my car and head in, and it isn’t until I’m standing in front of the door with a box of muffins

  in one hand, my paper bag holding my bagel dangling precariously on top, and a steaming hot cup of coffee in the other, when I realize I still don’t actually have a key to let myself in.

  “Son of a bitch,” I mutter, attempting to push the door open with my hip, which proves impossible since it’s locked. Coffee sloshes onto my hand in the process. I curse and step back, raising my eyes heavenward. I’m starting to mutter something about how Levi could maybe think to get me a key, when the familiar gritty voice makes me jump and slosh coffee all over my hand again.

  “Morning.”

  “Jesus, you scared the hell out of me,” I tell Levi, leveling an angry look at him.

  He raises a dark brow and frowns. “Good morning to you, too.” And just like that, my body knows how to respond. This man pushed me over his desk and spanked me yesterday, then took his leather belt to my ass before he fucked me so hard and thoroughly I slept in a sex-induced coma. And my body knows this. So at the sound of the stern tone and raised brow, at the first sign of his familiar dominance, my body starts to react. I push my thighs together at the thrum of arousal, and swallow hard, trying to maintain my composure.

  He circles me, which makes me feel decidedly helpless while I’m holding the box of muffins and bagel with the screaming hot cup of coffee. Eyeing the white box, he mutters, “Lake’s Coffee Shop.”

  “Mmhmm. Now, sir,” I say with a tight voice mimicking patience I’m sure as hell not feeling at the moment, “will you please open the door for me?”

  He shrugs lazily. “I’m not sure yet.”

  My mouth hangs open, agape. “What?”

  Stroking his chin methodically, he nods. “Yeah. I think I’d be a dumbass not to take advantage of this situation.”

  “Levi! Leave me alone now. Just open the door and I won’t bother you. But for God’s sake, have some mercy.” I chatter on, trying to convince him, but he just continues his pacing unhindered.

  He circles around me again, but this time I gasp when I feel his hand on my ass. “Still hot from last night,” he approves. “Perfect.”

  “Someone will hear you,” I hiss.

  “You’re the one doing all the talking,” he counters. His hand snakes under my skirt and rakes his hand up my thigh. My legs quiver, my pussy throbs. Flicking his thumb over the teeny strip of fabric between my legs, he brings his mouth to me ear. “Do not,” he says, punctuating his words with firm but gentle pressure of his thumb, “wear panties to this office again. If you do, and I find them, I’ll punish that sweet pussy of yours before I punish your ass. Understood?”

  Jesus Christ, he’s filthy.

  I love it.

  He gives my inner thigh an almost affectionate pinch.

  “Ow!” I protest, splashing coffee on my hand again. “You made me spill my coffee.”

  Taking my coffee-burned hand in his, he brings it to his lips, kissing the reddened part. “Sorry about that, Tanya,” he says. “Let daddy kiss it better.” And just like that, I melt into a puddle of Tanya goo, right there on the front step.

  “Thank you, daddy,” I whisper, instantly forgiving him for whatever was irritating me before. I don’t care if anyone hears us. I don’t care if anyone sees us. I want him to touch me more, to bring me into that shop and kiss me more. To let me call him daddy again.

  Letting my hand go, he takes his key from the loop on his belt and opens the door, then turns and plucks the box of muffins and coffee from my hands. “In you go,” he says, holding the door open for me. I incline my head to thank him, step over the threshold, then squeal when he gives my ass a little swat.

  Is it still only seven in the morning? I’m ready to bed this guy already. God, I’m a slut.

  The door shuts behind us and he leads me to the desk. He puts the muffins down and places my coffee on the desk. I’m wondering why he just divested me of my coffee when he reaches for me around the waist and pulls me between his legs. Strong, powerful fingers dig through my hair, rough and unrepentant, and my braid begins to come undone. Tugging my head back, he brings his mouth to mine and kisses
me so that my knees buckle. He holds me up and kisses me harder, deeper, his tongue gently probing mine, but the fist in my hair only tightens every time our tongues meet. I moan into his mouth. His cock presses hard against my belly. I don’t care if anyone sees us. I can’t stop this if I tried. He was meant to kiss me like this, right here and right now, and I’m letting myself be swept away in this moment. Too soon, he pulls away. I blink at him with hazy eyes, my lips swollen and tingling.

  If I had even an inkling of doubt he’s interested in me, they just vanished.

  “What was that?” I whisper.

  “It was a good morning, princess,” he grates.

  I finger his swollen cock through his jeans. “And that?”

  He grins, white teeth flashing behind dark, thick whiskers. “Think that’s saying the same thing.”

  I bite my lip and he groans. Running my thumb up and down his shaft, I lean in and whisper in his ear, “I had fun last night, daddy. I was sad to see you gone this morning.”

  Running his thumb along my cheek, he cups my jaw and whispers back, “Maybe tonight I don’t have to leave. But Tanya,” he says, his voice deepening in warning. “Stop teasing me. If I have to work today with blue balls hanging between my legs because of you, I’ll have to punish you later.”

  I moan. “You’ll have to find another way to get me to behave. That’s only turning me on.” I lean in and lick his collar bone. “I wanted to make myself come this morning imagining you bending me over the hood of one of those cars and fucking me soundly.”

  “Christ,” he curses, with a groan.

  We pull away at the sound of footsteps approaching, and by the time Spade comes into the office, I’m dutifully sipping my coffee and eating my bagel, and Levi’s leaned up against the counter spilling blueberry muffin crumbs all over the place.

  “Morning, boss,” Spade says. The acrid scent of cigar smoke hits me, and my bagel churns in my stomach. I can’t stand this guy. He jerks his chin to me. “Morning…Anya?” His lewd gaze sweeps down my front, undressing me with his eyes.

  “Tanya,” I say through gritted teeth. “Would you like a muffin?”

  Without so much as a thank you, he reaches in and grabs two chocolate chip muffins. He heads to the shop, spraying crumbs as he goes.

  “Screw muffins,” I mutter, scowling at the flurry of crumbs everywhere. “Next time, I bring a fruit tray.”

  Levi nods and shoots me a wink that goes right to my nipples.

  Fuck, I’m toast.

  I need to busy myself before I start undressing myself right here in front of him, so I find the utility closet and a broom, because I just remembered there’s broken glass on the floor from the night before.

  “Hey,” I say, when I come to the desk and see no broken glass. “What happened to the mess that was here last night?”

  He shrugs. “I came and cleaned it up before I went home. I didn’t like the idea of you coming in this morning to it.

  I smile. “How very…daddy of you.”

  Leaning in, he gives me a parting kiss, then whispers into my ear before he goes, “Some time today, before we close shop for the night, those panties are mine. Bring them to me. If I close shop and you’re still wearing them, I’ll redden that ass when we’re through here.”

  And with that, he’s gone. I’m chewing my bagel without conscious thought, trying to keep my shit together before anyone comes in, but all I can do is imagine myself lying over his lap or sprawled on the bed waiting for him as he gets ready to take me from behind. Ha. So this is part of his plan? Forget sexting. I’ve got a boss with a filthy mind who apparently likes to keep me on my toes while I’m working.

  Well, two can play at that game.

  I finish my bagel and wad up the wrapper, toss it into the wastebasket by the desk, and make myself a small agenda for today.

  Answer phones.

  Check supplies in bathrooms.

  Respond cheerfully to customers.

  Annoy the hell out of boss.

  The phone rings and I answer it promptly in my best Eastern European accent in case my father decides to shave years off my life again. “Jacked Up Classic Auto Repair, how may I be of assistance?”

  “Well, what a pretty voice you have,” says a warbly, somewhat reedy voice on the other end. “Has Levi finally climbed off his pile of gold and broken down and hired help?”

  Pile of gold? The tone is friendly, though, and the man sounds like he’s about a hundred years old.

  “Why, yes, sir,” I respond, in the same accent. “I believe he has. May I tell him who’s calling before he climbs back up his pile?”

  The man cackles out loud, “I like you. You’re feisty, like your boss. From what country do you hail from, young lady?”

  Shit. I hadn’t thought that through.

  “Czechoslovakia,” I blurt out. My cheeks flame. I’m going to have to come up with some sort of back story, or someone will figure me out. Damn it.

  He clears his throat, “You mean The Czech Republic, or Slovakia? I believe we stopped calling it Czechoslovakia about twenty years ago.” His reedy, thin voice sounds amused.

  “Oh, right. Vell…old habits,” I mutter.

  I can practically hear him smiling.

  “So vhat can I do for you?” I ask, fighting to keep the accent by adding a few rolled “r’s” in for good measure.

  He leaves a message for Levi, and when I hang up the call, four more calls come in, one after the other. I file the messages, organizing the desktop on his computer, sync all files with the cloud drive, and dust the display case before I realize it’s nearly lunchtime. Levi hasn’t come back in the office, and I’m doing a shit job keeping those blue balls primed. I bite my lip and grin to myself when I get an idea.

  A few minutes later, I’ve got a slew of cleavage shots on my phone ready to go. As a professional model, I know how to do this.

  Problem is, I don’t have his cell phone number. I eye the door to the shop. I remember that threat of a bare ass spanking. I bite my lip. Yeah, that sounds hot as fuck, but do I really want to play it from that angle? And is it really hot if he’s really mad?

  I peer through the glass door into the shop and notice the men are all leaving for lunch. I hit the button on the phone that sends all calls to voicemail. Turning to face the door, I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. I haven’t seen Levi since early this morning. Is he still here? Would he leave without telling me?

  I frown to myself, but I guess it’s fine if he did. I mean, I don’t mean much to him.

  I open the door, stand on the threshold, but move my feet to the side so I’m still in the office and can make a good argument for not breaking the rule. “Levi?” I yell out. At first I don’t hear anything and I wonder if he’s gone to lunch alone. Would he do that? Just leave for lunch and not even say anything to me? I frown. I thought I deserved at least a little recognition. I try again. “Levi?”

  “Yeah?” he calls out, his voice muffled.

  “There’s a customer that needs to talk to you. Do you have a cell phone number I can have?”

  He rattles off a number. With a little smile, I run back into the shop, pick up my phone, and send him the pictures. I grin to myself. That’ll get him back for getting handsy outside the damn shop.

  I go back to the doorway and step right on the edge again like before.

  I hear a rustling sound and look into the shop. I tumble inside, then quickly right myself and leap back so my feet are back in the office. I’m off balance, though, so I’m swaying like a hula-hoop dancer when Levi pushes himself out from under a car about ten feet away to the far right. It’s a beautiful, pale blue car with a long, flat hood. Silver chrome trim, like ribbon on a present, decorates the outside. I can kinda see the appeal of working with cars like this.

  Levi sits up. In his right hand he’s got some kind of a drill. He pushes safety goggles up on top of his head and frowns at me.

  “What’d I tell you about coming into this s
hop?” he asks in a stern half-growl that makes my nipples furl.

  I give him my most winsome grin. “I’ll have you know I’m not in the shop. If you’d look more closely, you’ll see the very bottom of my flats are still on the threshold of the door,” I say with triumph.

  Still scowling, he pushes himself to standing, and that’s when I notice he’s stripped to his white t-shirt rolled up to his shoulders, the stark brightness in contrast to his tanned, tattooed arms. Placing the drill on a table beside him, he now has two free hands which he plants on his hips to further the impact of his frown.

  “Safety regulations per order of the insurance company state no one inside the doorframe of that door are allowed in here unless they work in this shop,” he barks out. “And daddy’s rules are even stricter.”

  Shit.

  “I work—” I gesture wildly behind me. “…in the shop.” I set myself off balance and topple straight into the shop, but quickly scurry back.

  “Get back into that office,” he rumbles, advancing on me now.

  Uh oh. I maybe pushed this a little too far. I run over to the desk but he’s here now. Damn it. I didn’t even get to really provoke him and he’s coming at me like he’s a dog whose dinner I just stole. There’s literally nowhere for me to go, so I sorta sidestep and bolt for the door, but he catches me around the waist.

  “Wait!” I yell, trying to wriggle, but he’s really crazy strong. He’s pushing me up against the wall. His whole body is still sweat-slicked so the white t-shirt clings to him like a second skin. He shoves me up against the wall so the cool, flat surface presses up against my spine. With one knee he pins me against the wall. He has both of my hands in one of his huge ones, pinned above my head, and the other one comes to my jaw.