by Cassie Wild
She grinned at me and nodded to the table. “I already scooped you out some. Figured you’d be hungry. You didn’t eat breakfast.”
Happily, I slid into the seat and started to eat.
It was just me and Joelle right now. My father and aunt were off somewhere close by – most of the family lived in the general area – and if either of them had planned to go anywhere that would take them away long, I would have been notified and told to behave, as always.
My cousin was out working her job, one similar to mine, but a little farther away.
Trice and I had plans to go out soon. Hopefully, nothing interfered with it – like her mother or my father.
The family didn’t like when us Gypsy girls mingled with the gadje – non-Romany. But I personally felt more and more constrained by the family and looked forward to any chance to get away from them, even if just for a few hours.
“You and Trice still going out?” Joelle asked in an eerie echo of my thoughts.
“Yes.” Smiling at her over a spoonful of whatever spicy pasta and chicken concoction I was eating, I said, “I’m just hoping it doesn’t get screwed up like last time.”
She made a face, and I could see the sympathy in her eyes. “I can’t wait until I’m old enough to go with you,” she confessed. “The only time I get out of here is when Papa decides to let me go shopping.”
“I know.” I felt guilty then. At least I was old enough to drink. At least Papa knew that if he tried to lock me down too tight, I’d just fly away. The only thing that kept me here was my sister and cousin, and he knew it. He wanted the money I brought in too much to risk it, so I had more freedom than a lot of women in my situation could.
But it wasn’t enough.
“Listen to us,” Joelle said, laughing. The sound was low and more than a little bitter. “Don’t we sound grim?”
“We don’t sound grim,” I told her firmly. “We sound like women who know what we want in life.”
And it wasn’t this.
But achieving it wasn’t as easy as all that.
I couldn’t say we lived in a cage.
I couldn’t exactly say we didn’t, either.
Pasting a smile on my face, I tapped the empty space at the cracked Formica table. “Come on, sweetie. Come sit next to me. We’ll talk.”
Two
Kian
“Come on, honey…”
It wasn’t an uncommon thing to hear in my garage, men – and two kick-ass ladies – talking to expensive cars.
The current sweetheart being sweet-talked was a Mercedes Maybach S 650 Cabriolet, one hell of a sweet ride, one of only three hundred made, and this poor baby had been through the wringer. The owner was a nice enough guy. However, the owner’s son was a douche and had gone joyriding in it, then crashed it into the back of a parked car as he stopped to buy more booze – exactly what hadn’t been needed.
So far, the repair was going well, and I planned on keeping it that way.
I had a pretty good track record when it came to expensive models.
“Hey, boss!”
I shot a look over my shoulder at the door. Donut – his real name was Duncan – stood there with a grin on his face. He did not, thankfully, have a donut in his hand. I’d hired him on to act as the receptionist and handle the books about two months ago, and he was perfect at it. Except he really liked to eat donuts. As in all the time. Thus, the name. That his name was Duncan didn’t really help – or hurt, depending on how you looked at it.
“You got a lady here, says she wants to talk to the boss.”
A couple of faces lit up with grins as I grabbed a rag to wipe my hands, but I ignored them. Wisely, nobody said anything.
Once I was inside the office part of the garage, I caught sight of the tall, sleek looking redhead, barely covered in a few scraps of material that most people wouldn’t really consider the type of attire one might wear to a garage. A club, sure. But not an office.
“You’re the man…in charge?” she asked, hesitating for maybe a beat as she looked me up and down.
“Yes, ma’am.” She was familiar, but I couldn’t place her name. “I heard you wanted to speak to me?”
“Yes.” She tossed Donut a dismissive glance. “I have a complaint, if we could step into your office.”
Donut’s grin didn’t split his face until after the woman walked by him. Once we were inside, she turned to me, and I opened my mouth.
Hers was fastened to it before I so much as got a word out.
Well, alright then.
She slid her hands under my t-shirt, and I caught her wrists, easing her back a second. “I’m filthy…” I paused, trying again to think of her name. She’d been in to get some maintenance done on a sweet Rolls Royce just a week ago, and she’d put the moves on me then too. I’d responded with more than a little enthusiasm, because hell, I wasn’t stupid. But it hadn’t been enough to remember her name. “Baby, I’ve been under cars all day.”
She giggled. “Now you get to be under me.”
Hell, if she didn’t care, why should I?
As she kissed me again, I reached up and fisted a hand in her thick red hair. And I knew for a fact, she was a natural redhead – I remembered that too.
She moaned as I arched her head back, running my lips down the long, elegant line, pausing to catch the curve between my teeth and bite. She was sweet and sexy, and she smelled expensive, like silk and lust and a million dollars.
It was enough to make my dick stand up and pay attention.
She reached between us and gripped my cock, rubbing me through my jeans. “I want you naked, Kian,” she said, whispering the words against my mouth.
I pulled her skirt to her hips and palmed her ass. “I want to be inside you.”
She whimpered as I slid my hand down and under, finding her already wet.
Sweeping her up into my arms, I carried her over to the desk and deposited her on the surface, spreading her legs wide. She was indeed already wet, very, very wet, so much so that her panties clung to her. I traced a finger against the slick material, and she quivered, back arching.
It had her slight breasts lifting up, and I reached for the tie at the back of the neck, freeing the halter-style top.
She was naked underneath, and I dipped my head to show my appreciation as I caught one nipple in my mouth.
She tasted the way she smelled, and I hummed against her flesh. With my free hand, I reached into the top left-hand drawer and found the box I needed by feel. After tearing off a condom, I dropped back into the seat and stared up at her.
Just like that, I remembered her name.
“You said you wanted me under you. Is that how you want it, Stacey?” I asked as I dragged the zipper down over my cock, freeing myself.
Her eyes dropped, and she watched as I fisted myself, stroking up and down, urged on by the flare of heat in her gaze.
“Yes. But first…” She bit her lip, then went to her knees in front of me. I caught her chin, studying her face for a moment. Then, slowly, I let her go.
Groaning as she closed her mouth over me, I let my head fall back against the padded leather headrest. She had a good mouth on her, and she worked me close to the edge pretty damn fast.
But I wasn’t going to come in her mouth, despite the fact that she seemed to want it – and wasn’t that hot?
After I pulled her off, I tore open the condom, watching her watching me. That, in and of itself, was another turn-on. Some women got self-conscious doing this, but I didn’t see the point in that.
She licked her lips as I held out my hand and came to me. I drew her down until she straddled me, letting her take the lead.
She groaned as I filled her, an echoing sound rising from my throat.
It was so hot, the way she arched back and braced her hands on my knees, the position lifting her breasts as she began to grind against me. I wanted to taste those tight little nipples so, leaning forward, I caught her around the waist and drew her in, closin
g my mouth around the right one.
She gasped, and her pussy tightened around me like a fist.
Palming her ass, I tucked her in tighter against me and began to rock up to meet her thrusts, taking the pace from slow and lazy to something harder, deeper…dirtier. She squealed when I trailed my fingers up the slit between her ass cheeks, moaned when I bit her left nipple.
And she came hard and fast with the next thrust.
That was all it took for me to do the same, climaxing almost on the heels of her release.
It wasn’t a bad way to spend an afternoon.
Although I wasn’t going to let myself take a break later.
If I slacked off, the crew might think they could do the same.
“Thanks for your attention on that matter, Mr. Robson,” Stacey said, smiling at me and looking as cool as cream ten minutes later.
I returned her smile. “Not a problem, Stacey. I promise the issue will be resolved.”
She beamed at me and turned on a heel roughly the height of a New York City skyscraper and walked out.
Once she was gone, Donut asked, “Is there any way I can help the next time she comes back?”
“No,” I said shortly.
He gave me a crestfallen look, and I knew by the look in his eyes he had figured out exactly what was going on in my office. Not a surprise. Stacey hadn’t been quiet.
And that dress…
In the next second, he grinned. “Just messing with ya, boss. Here, I’ve got the schedules roughed out for next week, if you want to look them over. I swapped out Dave and Carol’s schedules for Wednesday, if that’s okay. She’s got a doctor appointment in the morning, and he said he didn’t mind working the early shift to cover her hours.”
Being a busy garage in a busy city meant we had to have more flexibility than the standard nine to five. We could have those hours, but we’d lose business to those garages that were happy to be open later or on weekends.
Since I preferred not to lose business, I’d hired a crew that could be flexible and cover the hours I wanted covered. It hadn’t been hard. Not every mechanic wanted to come in at the crack of dawn, and this way, I had people on hand until ten in the event somebody’s BMW or Porsche ended up in a fender bender – which happened. A lot.
I took the stack of schedules but cast a wistful look into the bay of cars. I’d rather be out there getting my hands dirty than going over paperwork, even with something as simple as approving the hours for the coming week.
Gritting my teeth, I forced my gaze back down onto the papers. Might as well get it done now instead of later, when there would be more work.
Three
Suria
“I didn’t think we’d get past that bouncer,” Trice said, hooking her arm through mine.
I adjusted the neckline of my dress. It was designed to be low, but I strategically made it a little lower as I distracted said bouncer. Trice’s fake ID was pretty damn good, but he’d been giving it a pretty thorough once-over.
“Just don’t try to order anything but a soft drink,” I told her, ignoring the face she gave me. “I’ll let you have some of mine while we dance, okay? But you don’t want to get caught ordering anything with booze in it. It will be harder for me to use my ta-tas to distract a bartender or one of the servers.” I nodded at the servers. They were all female and much less likely to be distracted by my tits.
She laughed. “Okay, deal. Just promise I can have something…this week has sucked. Vano is being such an ass, and my mother keeps saying that awful M word.”
“I know, honey.” I gave her a tight hug, wanting to promise that I’d save her from that dreaded M, but not wanting to make a promise I couldn’t keep. Not to family, not to one of my few real friends.
“You know, you’re lucky,” Trice said, a note of wistfulness obvious in her voice even over the loud music pulsing in the air.
“Why is that?”
“Because you make so much money for the family.” She shrugged, looking out at the gyrating, twisting bodies. “He won’t want to give that up. He doesn’t make nowhere near as much as you do. If you marry off, you won’t be sharing your take with him anymore. It will go through your husband to Vano.” She rolled her eyes. “Your papa won’t like that. He may not make you marry at all.”
While I wasn’t keen on the idea of being forced into one of the famed arranged marriages, I’d go in a heartbeat if it meant that Trice and Joelle would be spared such a fate. I could take care of myself. I was good at manipulating people without them even realizing – my father and aunt, for starters.
But Trice and Joelle weren’t like that.
“You know, some Rom clans are actually getting a little more modern.” That wistful note still hadn’t left Trice’s voice, and I cut my eyes back to her face. “Some even let the couple have a say in who is selected for marriage, and if either party is outright against it, they don’t force them. Why can’t Vano and the elders wake up and smell…” She sighed, wrinkling her nose, “if not the twenty-first century, I’d settle for the nineteenth?”
“Or even the eighteenth…depending on the culture,” I offered. I caught her hand. “We came here to have fun. Do you really want to think about my father, or Vano, or the elders?”
“Hell, no.” Trice shook her head emphatically.
“Then let’s go dance.”
At the edge of the dance floor, I flagged one of the servers down and asked for whiskey on the rocks. She did ask to see my ID, despite the fact that I’d already been carded, so as she studied it, I slid Trice a quick look. Told ya, I mouthed.
She just rolled her eyes.
After the girl disappeared into the crowd, the two of us eased the last few inches onto the dance floor and started to move. Dancing was one thing I loved, that I’d always loved, but I didn’t get to do dancing like this at home.
Trice and I threw ourselves into the music, and I only pulled myself out of the spell when a hand tapped me on the shoulder.
It was the server with my drink.
Pulling a bill from inside my shirt, I paid and tipped her – I knew how important tips were – then lifted the glass to my lips. From the corner of my eye, I watched until I knew she was gone – and the other staff that might be watching weren’t – then I passed the glass over to Trice.
She took a quick sip and mimed gagging as she passed it back over.
“I don’t see how you can drink that stuff. It’s like…I don’t know…medicine.”
Loftily, I informed her, “It’s an acquired taste.”
Somebody tapped her on the shoulder, and I grinned at her as a good-looking brunet asked her to dance. She shot me a hopeful look, and I waved her off.
None of us got to mingle much with people our own age. Who was I to deny her a chance at dancing with a sexy guy with big, dark eyes?
Making my way off the dance floor, I focused on the bar, thinking I’d get a glass of wine and find a bare space on the wall where I could watch Trice.
I made it almost off the dance floor before I bumped into somebody.
A pair of hands gripped my hips, and I looked up, an automatic apology on my lips.
It died at the sight of pale eyes meeting mine.
Pale eyes under a shaggy fall of bangs, hair that looked almost gold under the flashing display of lights going on overhead. A smile creased his lips. “Since we’re already halfway there…want to dance?”
I wasn’t the type to be open to charmers or players. I was the charmer, and although I didn’t like it, I’d been the player too.
Still, there was something about his boyishly handsome, open smile that made me loop my arms around his neck. “Why not?”
We swayed to the music as it went from a fast cadence to a slower one. One dance became two, then three, and it wasn’t until the third one ended that either of us spoke.
“My name’s Kian,” he said, dipping his head so he could talk into my ear without shouting.
I turned my head to do
the same.
“Suria,” I said, giving him my real name without thinking.
That was something I hardly ever did.
Was there anybody outside the clan who knew my real name?
Well, yes. Now this blue-eyed stranger by the name of Kian knew it. But did others? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d given that piece of myself to somebody. I realized I was smiling and had no idea why.
“You come here often?” Kian asked.
There was something about the way he asked, about the way he watched me that made me think that it wasn’t just a line. I shrugged. “Not too often. But once or twice.”
He grinned at me. “Maybe you should try to get out here a bit more frequently.”
“Why?” I gave him a bold smile. “You think you might want to meet here sometime?”
“I think that could be a possibility.” The hand he’d placed low on my spine spread wide, his fingers like brands through the thin material of my dress.
“Hmmm…” I licked my lower lip, decided that maybe I liked the sound of that. “Maybe tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
He dipped his head.
I tensed, but to my surprise, he caught my hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
Then, quick as a wink, he lost himself in the crowd.
“Until tomorrow,” I murmured.
Then I realized…I was going to have to sneak away two nights in a row.
That was going to be just plain awesome.
End of Preview. Click HERE to continue reading Lies from the Deceit and Desire series.
About the Author
Cassie Wild
Cassie Wild loves romance. Ever since she was eight years old, she’s been reading every romance novel she could get her hands on, always dreaming of writing her own romance novels. In her spare time, she enjoys watching superhero movies, playing video games, reading tons of books all while cooking her favorite Italian meals.