Booth himself had told me that he loved this truck.
And after Masen told me what happened later and how he refused to take it or even drive it anymore, I understood why she would be upset.
The screen door to the back of Booth and Masen’s house banged, causing me to look up in surprise.
“What’s wrong?” Aaron asked as he made his way down the winding brick pathway toward me.
Booth and Masen had a gorgeous house.
It was a one story ranch style house with the most awesome backyard I’d ever seen. It was like a backyard oasis with a huge white gazebo off to the left of the yard and a koi pond that snaked around half of the gazebo like a mini moat.
And the grass was the type of grass that was fluffy underneath your feet. Not that nasty grass with stickers that hurt as you walked through them.
“Nothing,” I told him instantly. “I was told to stay here by Masen.”
When all else fails, settle for the truth.
His brows furrowed, and before he could reply, I turned around and headed back inside the detached garage that they were housing Aaron’s truck in.
He followed behind me, and stopped close to my back, his hand curling around my hip before his entire body froze.
“Masen told me a story today,” I told him. “She told me that you bought this truck when you were sixteen, and built it for three years, since you couldn’t afford the parts on it all at once.”
“I couldn’t,” he agreed.
His voice sounded rough, almost scratchy like he was trying to hold back his emotions.
“Then why, if you put that much love into this truck, do you not want to have it with you?” I asked him, curling my hand around his at my hip.
“Because every single bad memory I have of my wife is buried in that truck,” he mumbled. “The first fight we ever had was in that front seat. Over something stupid. Then when I told her I wanted kids, she told me I loved my truck more than her. Why the hell would she want to share me with something else that would take my time away from her.”
I grimaced.
“Fight after fight was had over that truck, and I can’t think of one single thing that I want more than to forget about everything that has to do with Lynn,” he continued. “And that truck, to me, is everything that I hated about her. The fights. The guilt. It’s all wrapped up in that truck, and though it kills me, I don’t want it anymore.”
I looked over my shoulder at the closed door to the garage, and then an idea struck me.
“It looks pretty clean,” I told him, pulling away. “In fact, I bet that paint’s smooth as glass.”
“It is,” he promised. “I had it done professionally. Booth used the same guy to fix it as I had do it the first time.”
I didn’t reply, instead walking up to the truck and running my fingers along the hood.
The moment I had the truck in between him and me, I started to loosen the tie on my sweatpants.
His eyes were on the truck, and not on me, so I continued to undress as his mind took him in the past.
But it didn’t matter.
I was about to bring him back into the now.
Into me.
I was going to make this truck a good memory, not a bad one.
And I was going to do it by fucking him on it…in it…and beside it.
I just hoped to hell and back Masen kept herself and her husband away long enough for me to do it.
“Tell me about your truck,” I ordered him.
His eyes closed, and I felt a wave of sorrow pour through me.
A man shouldn’t have those kind of scars—physical or emotional.
Sex likely wasn’t the answer to all of Aaron’s problems, but it was extremely hard to have a conversation with the man that didn’t have me all hot and bothered.
Hell, just last night he and Booth had been talking about cars. I’d sat there next to him and listened to the rasp of his deep, gravelly voice, and let my mind wander. At first, it’d started out innocent.
I loved his voice. I liked the way it sounded—the huskiness mixed with the deep timbre of it had shivers dancing up my spine.
But then it’d degraded from there, and I started to contemplate the feeling of sitting on his face while he whispered dirty words in between licks of my vagina.
“Not much to tell. Got it when I was younger. Started fixing it up. Turned into the truck of a lifetime. Everything fell into place perfectly.” He sounded happy when he spoke about it now, but as I looked back at him, letting my pants fall to the floor as I did, he looked anything but happy.
His eyes were trained on the front fender—just to the right of where I was standing now naked from the bottom down—and stared with unseeing eyes.
He was definitely disturbed. It was almost as if he didn’t want to have anything to do with being in the same room as the truck—as if it would reach out and strike at him.
“I painted it with Lynn in mind.”
I blinked.
“Why?” I asked, reaching through the open window of the truck and tossing my phone onto the seat.
He still didn’t look at me.
“Trying to appease her, I guess,” he muttered. “Hoping to get her to love what I loved. Should’ve known it wouldn’t work.”
I unbuttoned the top three buttons of my shirt before I discarded that as well, tossing it on the side of the truck.
The black fabric lay against the white paint like some carnal clue of what was to come.
“I asked her what her favorite color was and she said red,” he continued. “Fucking hate the color red.”
I smiled then, discarding the last article of clothing—my bra.
I placed it next to my t-shirt, and then opened the door of the truck.
“I don’t know,” I murmured, placing one knee into the seat of the truck. “I’m kind of fond of the color red.”
A swift inhalation had me smiling, but I didn’t turn around.
Not yet anyway.
He had to make the first move, after all.
He didn’t want to come anywhere near the truck, and if he wanted me, he’d have to overcome that fear.
“My nails are red,” I told him, bringing my hand up to my face and curling my fingers to admire the deep red of my nails.
Normally, I didn’t bother painting my nails.
It was a stupid endeavor for someone who worked with her hands like I did all day. The first time I had to reach into the motor for something—a lost bolt that I’d dropped most likely—I’d scrape the pretty paint right off. Then I’d have chips in my polish and have to take the polish off, making it a waste of money.
But I’d gone and done it with Masen as a way to get her out of the house, and she’d taken me up on the offer—even though it was less than five minutes from her house, and Booth was at the restaurant right next door waiting for her.
“What are you doing?” Aaron’s strangled voice sounded from behind me, jolting me out of the contemplation of my nails.
I looked at him over my shoulder.
“I’m about to try out your shocks,” I informed him. “Are you going to join me?”
He swallowed.
“No.”
One word. One syllable. Two letters.
It’d sounded like I’d strangled the word out of him.
“Why not?” I asked, twisting my body around until I faced him fully.
His eyes went from my breasts, to the space between my splayed thighs, to my face, and back again.
Over and over, until I could do nothing but smile at him and his transparency.
His cock was tenting the front of his jeans, and his breathing was coming faster than usual.
He looked like he was at war with himself, and I wanted to go over there and give him a big hug as I told him everything would be all right.
I didn’t do either of those things, though.
Instead, I sat there a
nd waited for him to make his decision.
Either way I’d be giving myself to him.
If he wanted to wipe this bad juju from his memory, though, I’d help him.
I’d help him do anything if only he asked.
My heart was in my throat as I watched him finally come to a decision, and it wasn’t the one I was expecting of him.
***
Aaron
I’d just decided that I had to have her when I heard my brother call my name.
With two long strides I was out the door and blocking it before he could even make it halfway to the garage.
“I’m going to go grab dinner for us before you have to go.” He told me the moment he spotted me. “Do you want anything special?”
No, I want you to leave right the fuck now.
“No, thank you. Whatever you’re getting will do,” I told him shortly.
His brows furrowed. “Something wrong?”
I shook my head. “No.”
Not if you leave.
“All right,” Booth said, eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll be about twenty minutes. Masen’s taking a shower with the baby.”
Enough time to get what I needed to get done, done.
“Okay.”
Booth knew what I was about to do. I could see it in his eyes. He didn’t call me on it, though.
Instead, he turned without another word and headed for his truck that was parked under the car port, stepping over Tank who was still sunning himself in the middle of the yard on his way.
I turned back around and headed back into the garage, being sure to lock it once again before turning my attention to the woman who was sitting on the edge of the seat of my truck staring at me with surprise written all over her face.
“I wasn’t leaving,” I answered her silent question. “I was keeping Booth from seeing those tits of yours.”
Her mouth dropped open, her face automatically going to the door to see if she could see outside.
I used the time while her gaze was occupied to rip my shirt over my head and toe out of my boots.
By the time her attention was back on me, I was starting on my jeans.
“You’re not going to make me move off the truck, are you?” she asked hopefully.
I only smiled.
In answer, I shed my jeans, letting them and my underwear fall to my feet.
Her eyes automatically zeroed in on my erection, which was so erect that I was sure looked just as bad as it felt.
My balls were low, dangling between my legs like lead weights.
My dick was purple and throbbing with each accelerated beat of my heart.
I was breathing heavily, and knew the moment I got close enough, I was going to impale her on my hard cock.
Something in which she realized the moment she finally brought her gaze from my cock to my eyes.
Her breath hitched, and she fell back to her elbows, spreading her legs wider as she did.
“You’re not going to hurt me,” she promised.
I wanted to laugh.
How she could read my mind after such a small amount of time was seriously impressive, and I loved every single second of it.
Everything about Imogen was freakin’ amazing, and the more I got to know her, the more I liked everything I found out.
I liked how she enjoyed spending time with my brother and Masen—something that Lynn fucking despised and made no attempt to hide the fact from anyone.
I liked how she was with the kids—and the idea of having kids with Imogen wasn’t terrifying like it’d been with Lynn.
I more than liked the way my heart raced when she’d smile at me or tease me about something I’d done or said.
All in all, I fucking liked Imogen.
The amazing sex we’d had over the last three days was just a bonus.
The best thing, though, was the way she was taking all of the bad memories that Lynn had put into my brain away, and replacing them with good ones that included her.
Such as right now.
The last thing I remembered when it came to that truck was seeing my wife barreling straight toward me.
Or it had been.
In two days, or hell, even two hours, all I would see when it came to this vehicle was Imogen—legs spread wide—waiting for me.
“Are you just going to stare, or are you going to put that big monster to use?”
I was going to put it to use.
Without answering I walked toward her.
The moment she was within arm’s reach, I grabbed a hold of her left foot and pulled, not stopping until her ass hung over the side of the seat.
She squealed and laughed, her hair going all over the red seats as she waited for what I’d do next.
And I didn’t disappoint.
Grabbing her left leg, I took hold of the seatbelt hanging just over the top of the seat and wound it around her ankle twice before hooking it on the small hook I’d installed to hold my dry cleaning—effectively restraining one leg with minimal effort on my part.
She gasped, testing the hold almost on reflex.
“It’ll hold…for now,” I told her, grabbing her other ankle and pushing until her thigh flattened against her chest, pushing her breasts up with the movement.
The lips of her sex parted, revealing her clit and wet entrance.
I said a silent thanks to Booth for putting such awesome lighting in the shop, and moved until the head of my dick met her slickened flesh.
She inhaled sharply the moment our skin met, but my eyes were all for where my dick was tunneling through her dampened folds.
Her moan of excitement had me peeling my eyes away from where we were nearly connected, and the moment I did, she shifted her hips.
Keeping my eyes on her, I pushed forward, and my cock tunneled straight inside, not stopping until I was fully embedded inside of her.
Her back arched and her eyes closed.
My hands on her hips tightened, and I started to take her forcefully.
Knowing she was close with the way her breath was sawing in and out of her lungs and from the goosebumps that were starting to break out all over her chest, I didn’t hold back.
Not one single bit.
It took her four thrusts of my cock.
It took me eight.
One second I was living, and the next I was alive.
The next thing I knew, I was leaning heavily against the side of the truck, my hands still holding her hips in place, and my cock still jerking inside of her as I came down from my release.
“So…” Imogen whispered, bringing my eyes to hers. “Are you taking it home?”
I grinned.
“Not right now…but as soon as I have a place for it; yes, I will,” I confirmed.
Her smile was brilliant.
“Was it me replacing the memories?” she asked hopefully.
I refrained from telling her that I was going to take it home all along.
I had too much money in it to do differently.
But she looked so hopeful that she’d helped me overcome some obstacle that I chose to let it lie, and not tell her that the truck was just that—a truck.
“Yes, Ma’am.” I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her chest, right between her breasts. “You most surely replaced every bad memory that was ever associated with this truck, and replaced it with visions of your sweet pussy taking my cock.”
She snorted.
“You could’ve just stopped at ‘yes, Ma’am’,” she drawled.
I winked. “I’ll make a note of that for next time, Ma’am.”
She punched me in the chest—or would have had I not stepped away before she could make contact.
She started to slide as my body left hers, and I winced.
“We might also want to consider some carpet cleaning,” I informed her, eyeing the white stain that was dripping from that sweet pussy to the seat beneath her. “Be
cause not everyone will see that stain and think the same things that I do.”
She blushed profusely. “That’s probably wise.”
Two hours later I waved goodbye to my brother and headed back to reality.
Though my reality was looking a whole lot sweeter with the beautiful little pixie brightening the way.
Chapter 15
We don’t lick people.
-Lies adults tell kids
Aaron
“Aren’t you supposed to put that on before you leave?” Imogen teased as she tugged lightly on the corner of my Kevlar vest.
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “But it’s hot as balls out right now. I’ll put it on before I actually start my shift.”
Her frown was ferocious.
“Maybe you should put it on now,” she pushed. “What is this hole right here for?”
She fingered a long narrow opening on the vest.
“Ballistic plates,” I stated. “They’re new—or so I’ve been told by Big Papa.”
She sighed.
“Why don’t you have those in there yet?” she asked.
“Because the plates cost upwards of a grand, and I don’t have that kind of cake on me right now.”
Or ever, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
She didn’t need to know that Lynn not only tried to kill me, but had also spent our entire life savings on frivolous shit before she’d nearly done me in.
She also didn’t need to know that I was barely making it from paycheck to paycheck as I tried to claw myself out of the hole Lynn had dug herself into—and then buried me alive in without my knowledge until it was well and truly too late.
Hence the reason for bringing the truck home so I could sell the motherfucker and try to pay off some of my debts.
“The department doesn’t supply the ballistic plates?” she asked curiously.
I shook my head.
“They provided the vest, which was expensive as fuck,” I told her. “Apparently, most new officers have to pay for their own gear here, but since Big Papa wanted me in, he waived it.”
“Hmmm,” she murmured, peeling the Velcro back slightly before dropping her head to rest on my chest.
Beard Mode (The Dixie Warden Rejects MC Book 1) Page 13