Test Drive

by Marie Harte

  Totally not the effect he’d been going for, trying to share his life with her without sexing her up, for once. She totally respected him for that, even if she was having a hell of a time getting her body to agree.

  Seeing where her gaze lingered, he gave a self-deprecating grin. “Sorry. I get really hot when I work. Do you want me to put my shirt back on?”

  “No. Um, no. Be comfortable.” Feeling like a dog in heat, she swallowed and turned back to the car. “So, ah…” She coughed to clear her throat. “Should we pop the hood?”

  “Yeah.” He moved to the car, took two pins out of the hood, then pulled a lever in the bumper and raised it. The thing stayed up on its own. “Would you look at that?”

  She was doing her best to focus on the car and not the hot man next to her. “It’s nice.”

  “Nice?” He snorted. “Honey, that’s a work of art.” He nodded for her to lean closer to the engine, which she had to admit looked clean enough to eat off of. “This beauty is four hundred fifty horsepower of cowl-inducted perfection.” His low voice sounded like a purr—the same voice he used when he made love to her.

  He shifted so she could get a better look. Then somehow he was behind her, leaning into her, his body hard and hot against the thin shirt and jeans she wore. She felt enveloped, overheated, and totally turned on.

  “This,” he whispered, “is a 1970 Chevelle. Dreamy, isn’t she?” His breath grazed her ear, and she shivered. “Lean lines, power under the hood, and the noises she makes get me fuckin’ hard.”

  Lara tried not to swallow her tongue. “Y-you really like this car, huh?”

  “We’re going to have some fun with her.” He nibbled on her earlobe, and she felt faint. Good God, how could a half-naked man going on about a car be so damn erotic?

  “Fun is good.” She sounded breathless, but sue her.

  “Yeah. Scoot back.” He tugged her away from the engine and closed the hood. Then he set the hood pins back in place. “Grab that blanket, would you?”

  She glanced around and saw a thick blanket on top of the counter against the wall. It felt soft and smelled as if it had been freshly laundered. “You’re not going to get this dirty, are you?” The blue fabric looked too nice to mess up with grease and car parts.

  “Nah. We’re gonna protect the car with it. Can you fold it over, so it has some padding, and set it on the hood? Like in a four-by-four square?”

  She did her best, making sure the thick material covered the car’s shiny paint job. “Okay, now wh—”

  He spun her around and kissed her. His mouth and hands were everywhere, the subtle scents of cologne and man infused with sex tantalizing her until she didn’t know up from down. Clutching his arms while he eased her back, she started when she felt the car behind her.

  “Johnny?”

  His wicked grin warned her to be wary. “Oh yeah. Now let me show you how to work.”

  Still breathing hard, she watched as he lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it onto the stool, then unfastened her bra and added it to the growing pile. Her shoes hit the floor, then her socks. She couldn’t speak, her mind and body in a knot as she realized he had staged a seduction…in his garage.

  With slow tugs, he eased her jeans off her until she stood clad in a pair of skimpy red panties.

  “Christ. You had to wear red, didn’t you?” He sighed, then kissed his way up her legs, keeping his attention on her inner thighs. The drag of his stubbled chin and hot, firm lips made her shiver as he took her panties off.

  “Cold?”

  “No.” She hadn’t noticed the temperature since he’d taken off his shirt. But now that he mentioned it, the space heater gave the room ample warmth.

  He smiled at her, the Devlin charm working overtime, and eased her back onto the blanket on the hood. Then he spread her thighs wide.

  And it hit her.

  Her fantasy—Johnny’s head between her legs, in a garage, on top of a red car.

  “Oh my God.”

  “Oh yeah,” he agreed, and put his mouth over that taut, wet part of her screaming for his touch.

  She arched into him, so ready she feared coming in seconds. His firm grip on her thighs hampered any escape, and he licked and teased with impassioned groans of his own.

  Lara tried to hold out, but she’d never been consumed with such fervor. The relentless build of passion was overtaken by an explosion of pleasure. She cried out as she came, and Johnny continued to suck that hard nub while adding his fingers, stroking inside her.

  “Too much,” she moaned, overcome with sensation.

  He raised his head. “Not enough,” he growled back. His eyes seemed impossibly green, his lips shiny with her arousal. “Again.”

  He couldn’t mean…

  She said his name—a prayer, a curse, a plea—and gave herself up to the sensual caress of callused fingers and smooth lips. He didn’t give her time to come down before ramping her up again.

  “In me this time.” She tugged at his silky hair.

  He left her clit and nipped his way to her thighs. “Touch your breasts.” He bit her gently, and she trembled. “Pinch your nipples. You’ve got me so hard, so ready to come.”

  “Yes.” She pinched herself, aroused even more.

  “That’s it. You’re so wet. I can slide right up into you, can’t I?”

  “Do it.”

  “Not yet.” Then he shocked her by giving her a light slap, right there—between her legs.

  She seized, incoherent while her world blew apart, only to feel his mouth over her again. And the ecstasy kept coming…

  An hour later, while Lara lay on her bed and stared at her ceiling, she marveled at how she’d gotten from his garage, naked, to dressed and back in her bed in pajamas. The trip home had been a blur, her mind and body still reeling from a fantasy made real.

  And through all of it, Johnny had refrained from taking his pleasure. Instead, he’d given her multiple orgasms, then tenderly dressed her and put her back into her car with words of advice: “Good luck tomorrow, baby. Don’t let that Nurse Guyen screw with you. Remember, don’t get mad. Get even.”

  Nope. The only person Lara planned on letting screw with her was a shifty mechanic with an oral fixation. That tricky, tricky Johnny. Teach her how to fix a car. Ha. He’d fixed her instead.

  She smiled as she fell into sleep, the last thoughts on her mind…I can’t wait to get even with you, Johnny Devlin. And God bless that mouth of yours.

  * * *

  Thursday afternoon, Lara discreetly frowned down at her phone. Four hang-ups in the past week. At first she’d thought it was a wrong number. Then a prank. But since Kristin had mentioned seeing Ron again and talking with him about their divorce, Lara had a bad feeling Ron hadn’t taken their last altercation in stride. Of course, getting one’s face bashed in and being rejected by the woman you wanted to grope couldn’t be considered a character builder by the rich and elite.

  Knowing that Ron could afford to live in any of the houses she and Johnny had looked at last week burned her. That huge jerk would have no problem shelling out a few grand for nursing classes, but she couldn’t afford this term, let alone the next one. Financial aid wasn’t aiding her at all, and she knew she’d have to make some decisions soon when it came time to register for next term.

  Her instructor snapped her book closed. “Okay. We’ll see you all next week. Enjoy your weekend.”

  Lara stood with her peers and left the classroom, determined to put her stupid cell phone and her lack of finances out of her mind. She’d finished her paper and given her presentation today. So she could check that major to-do off her list. Now she needed to work at Ray’s throughout the weekend, finally pay off the cost of her textbooks with this week’s check, and think about what she and Johnny might do together. It was her turn to plan their big date night.

  After ducking into a restroom to change out of her scrubs, pleased she wouldn’t have to wash the hell out of them, since they’d used a clini
cal day to present papers, she dressed once again in jeans and a sweater and left, feeling refreshed and recharged for the rest of the week.

  With a smile, she walked into surprising sunshine. The past week with Johnny had been perfect. Too perfect. They spent time together—and though her fantasy continued to haunt her in only the best way—they’d made more than love. They’d made memories. She’d learned more about him, including the fact that he couldn’t do more in the kitchen than point her to the microwave. They’d spent four of the past five days eating dinner together before going their separate ways, and the domesticity and intimacy of their time spent with each other meant more to her than the sex had.

  Not exactly true, her girlie parts protested. Having had Johnny, she wanted him again. Not counting her fantasy on Tuesday night, they hadn’t had sex since last Saturday, when they’d spent the afternoon in bed. Good Lord, that man knew how to use his tongue… Knowing he’d honed his skills on other women bothered her in some ways, but overjoyed her in too many others to count.

  It wasn’t as if she’d been virginal before sleeping with him either. But she’d never been so in tune with a partner like she was with him. Dating Johnny showed her a whole new way to interact with men. She found him genuinely funny and enjoyed spending time with him. Even better, she trusted him. Despite knowing he helped out at Strutts, she believed him when he said he viewed the girls as family.

  She’d overheard Foley and Sam teasing him about it at the bar a time or two when they couldn’t have known she’d been near. Her relief had been enormous. Trusting Johnny’s word should have been enough, but for his friends to confirm it made all the difference.

  “Not my fault, really. I don’t know him all that well,” she mumbled to herself on her way to her car. She’d want him to believe what she said without proof. But Lara wasn’t a dating fiend, and the sex she had with Johnny meant something to her.

  The question remained—what did it mean to him?

  She reached her car and saw a folded note between the windshield and a wiper. Curious, she opened it and read, then stood there dumbfounded. She debated with herself and tucked it into her purse. A quick text to her sister told her Kristin was home—at their parents’ home. So she drove there, ready for a showdown. At least the girls wouldn’t be around for this conversation with her sister, occupied with dance practice after school.

  Lara pulled into the driveway and took a deep breath before letting it out. It was past time she had a come-to-Jesus talk with Kristin. And past time her sister put on her big-girl panties and stopped using Lara to clean up her messes.

  With that thought in mind, Lara entered the house and found Kristin sitting at the dining room table, her head in her hands, her hair a mess, as she stared at papers scattered over the tabletop.

  “Um, am I interrupting anything?”

  Kristin glanced up, annoyance in her light-brown eyes. “Actually, you are. This mess is what I now have to go through since you convinced me to ditch my lawyer.”

  “The same lawyer you were sleeping with? The one you got bored with and dumped? That lawyer?”

  Kristin glared. “Yes, Ms. Perfect. Now I’m dealing with some woman legal eagle who wants me to organize all…this.” She waved at the table in disgust.

  You brought this on yourself by marrying a rich dickhead, Lara wanted to say but didn’t. “Have you talked to Ron lately?”

  “My two-timing scum of a husband?” Kristin said with a sneer. “The same one who hit on my prettier, smarter, all-around better younger sister, even though we’re not divorced yet? That Ron?”

  “You know, I don’t appreciate your tone.” Lara took the paper from her purse and tossed it to her sister. “Your husband left me a note. Read it.”

  Kristin glanced down at the paper and began, “Dear Lara, I’m sorry for the other night. I don’t know what came over me. You won’t believe it, but my breakup with Kristin is hitting me hard.” Kristin stopped reading and speared Lara with a frown.

  Lara shook her head. “Yeah, I don’t believe it either.”

  “What’s he talking about? The other night?”

  Lara gave her a vague explanation about Ron trying to steal a kiss and left it at that.

  Kristin scowled. “What an ass.” She turned back to the note and continued reading. “I messed up, and I’m sorry. My intention was not to hurt you. Quite the contrary. I was hoping we could be friends. I always liked you. Not like I love my wife, but we were family.”

  Lara watched Kristin tear up, wondering if her sister was starting to believe Ron’s bullshit.

  “I have only myself to blame, for my weakness for other…pleasures. I want only to part ways with Kristin as amicably as possible. So please let her know I’ve reconsidered my percentage for her in hopes for an uncontested divorce.”

  Then Kristin read a number that frankly made Lara weep to hear. Granted, they weren’t talking millions, but with that amount, Kristin could care for herself and the girls, enough to get herself on her feet without stressing about bills for a few years.

  “I hope that we can put the issue of child support to bed,” Kristin kept reading. “I never adopted the girls, and I’m sorry to say we never bonded. With this amount and the small cottage in Ballard, Kristin should be set for a very long time, and she can give Kay and Amelia the love and support they need. Tell Kristin not to hesitate to talk to me, because the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can both move on.” Kristin wiped her eyes. “Wow. I can’t believe that.”

  “Neither can I.” Ron wasn’t the type to be sorry about anything, except getting caught.

  “That figure was pretty generous, I guess.”

  “It’s fair.” Something Lara hadn’t thought Ron would ever suggest. “Kristin, take it, sign the papers, and don’t look back. Put this behind you and—”

  “And what?” Kristin snapped, her sudden anger surprising.

  “Kristin?”

  “Go ahead, Lara. Tell me exactly how to make my life better, so I can be perfect like you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I bet you were thrilled when Ron tried to kiss you.”

  “What?”

  “So you could show me what a scum he is. What another terrible decision I’d made.” Kristin started crying again, ugly, angry tears that were all the more shocking because they were real. This wasn’t a pity-me moment, but a rare showing of her sister’s deep feelings. “I’m sorry he did that, but if he felt anything like I’ve been feeling, I get it.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re siding with Ron against me? What have I ever done but support you? Taking care of the girls, lending you a buck or two when I barely have any for myself?”

  “That’s right.” Kristin stood and shoved her hair back from her flawless, tear-stained face. “The good daughter, the one who’s never accepted a handout and made her own way in the world. What the fuck do you know about struggle? You, who’s always made up your own rules as you go. You, who everyone looks at as if she’s so smart. Intelligent and pretty, unlike her dopey older sister. ‘Kristin’s dumb as a brick, but at least she’s beautiful. It won’t last, but it’s good enough for now.’”

  “What are you talking about?” Lara lost her anger under a well of concern.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I have nothing more than this to work with.” She gestured at her own body. “Yeah, I know you think I’m a slag who has nothing else going for her than sexing up the next potential husband.”

  Ashamed, because she had thought that a time or two when upset with her sister, Lara flushed. “No, that’s not—”

  “I don’t blame you for it. That’s all I’m good for. I don’t like school. I don’t know what else to do with myself. I can cook and clean, I’m good at being a mom.” Her face crumpled. “Or maybe I’m not. I sure haven’t shown Kay or Amelia how to stand on their own.”

  “Oh, Kristin.” Lara took her sister in her arms and held her while she sobbed. “It’ll be ok
ay. I swear. We’re here for you.”

  “But you shouldn’t always have to be.” Kristin gently disengaged and stepped back. “I love you, Lara. And I’m sorry I’m being such a bitch. It’s just, it’s so hard being your sister.”

  “What?”

  “I always seem to keep failing, while you always seem to succeed. Lara, I’m ending my fourth marriage, and I just turned thirty. I keep finding guys that seem so great and turn out to be so wrong.”

  “Sean wasn’t wrong,” Lara pointed out. “He loved you. But you wanted more.”

  “We were too young, and my marriage was too hard. I thought it would be like the movies. The right house, the right yard, the right career man.” She sighed. “I’m like you in some ways, little sister. I want out of this fucking life, like, yesterday.”

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, come on. We all know you think you’re better than all this. And like I said, I don’t blame you. Mom and Dad might be happy working twenty-four seven, three hundred sixty-five days a year. No vacations, no breaks. Just work, work, work. But I want to enjoy life. And so do you—that’s why you moved out of here as soon as you were able. We all know it. Independence is great, but you really wanted to be more than a minimum-wage flunkie.”

  “That’s not true…” Not true, exactly…

  “Why do you think I jumped at Sean’s proposal? I wanted more. Except I got more of the same. And then I had to deal with the financial aspect of being a couple. Joint bills, accounts, his investments… You know money talk gives me a headache.”

  “So you married rich Josh.”

  “Another mistake.” Kristin grabbed a tissue and wiped her nose. Despite her red-rimmed eyes, she still radiated beauty, and Lara hurt for her, seeing Kristin’s pain in a new light. Knowing her sister acknowledged her own insecurities and failings made Lara feel terrible for her high-and-mighty attitude.

  “Well, but you tried—”

  “To fix a poor problem with money. Josh seemed so right on the outside, but he wanted someone more than me. You don’t think I know why he married me, but I do. He wanted a pretty blond with an hourglass figure and an empty head. But he didn’t know what to do with me when he got me.”