NO CHOICE

by Adrianna Dane

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  NO CHOICE

  by

  ADRIANNA DANE

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.amberquill.com

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  No Choice

  An Amber Heat Book

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.amberquill.com

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  Copyright © 2006 by Theresa Gallup

  ISBN-10 1-59279- 608-7

  ISBN-13 978-1-59279-608-3

  Cover Art © 2006 Trace Edward Zaber

  Layout and Formatting

  Provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

  Published in the United States of America

  Books by Adrianna Dane

  The Boy Next Door

  The Diary Of Lillian Manchester, Book I: The Stranger

  Eluria's Enforcer

  Esmerelda's Secret

  Earthly Delight

  Realm Of The Ice God

  Come Into My Parlor

  Smooth Finish

  Kierra's Thread

  Fertility Rite

  Graphic Liaisons

  Jebediah's Promise

  Legend Of The Beesinger

  Nights In White Satin

  No Choice

  Images Of Desire

  Immortal Treasure

  Sylvie's Gift

  Whisper

  Primal Magic:

  If You Dare...

  Scent

  Dedication

  Thanks to my publisher for allowing me to break through the boundaries.

  NO CHOICE

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  Dammit! It just wasn't right. She'd managed to avoid the repair shop for a lot of years, so why the hell did her car have to break down on this night, on this street? At five minutes to ten on a hot summer Friday night, she'd be damned lucky to get anyone to come out to help her with the car. Let alone try to beg for help from someone she'd turned her back on seven years ago.

  She released the latch, and the hood of the old 1972 blue Mustang creaked upward. She should have replaced the car years ago, but couldn't seem to make herself trade it in for a newer model. She hated making choices like that. The old Mustang held a whole lot of memories. Like the night of the Senior Harvest Dance with Derek Cory in the backseat and the windows all steamed over. He'd hooked one of her legs over the back of the front seat and pushed the other up so her thigh lay against the outer softness of her breast. He'd buried his huge cock so deep in her that night she saw stars and climaxed at least three times--one after the other. Her lips curved upward in fond remembrance of that night.

  Another memory surfaced. The night of the Senior Prom with Mason Jennings. It's a wonder the car hadn't melted around them that spring night. It had been unseasonably hot and all the windows were rolled down. He'd pulled her onto her knees, facing the open passenger window, forced her legs as wide as they'd go considering the circumstances, and pushed into her from the back. Oh, man, had she felt him fucking her--every thick inch.

  Just as they both spasmed simultaneously in orgasm, her hand must have clenched the handle because the door had burst open, sending them tumbling to the damp grass next to the car. But, damn, she had to give him credit, he never pulled free of her and instead had cupped her breasts, rolled to the side, and kept pumping, thrusting and retreating, sending her into another searing climax. She'd tried to bite back the scream, but it had come out muffled and her lip had bled for trying to force it back. When it was over and he'd slid from inside her and they'd both come out of the haze of lust, they'd erupted into peals of laughter, unable to stop, with tears rolling down their faces. But it hadn't ended there, because he'd pulled out a fresh condom, pushed her onto her back, and right there, beneath the full moon brought her to two more orgasms before they left the secluded cove. Now that was most definitely a night to remember.

  It had always felt as though each wanted to outdo the other that year. Her whole world had revolved around the two of them. But at the end of summer, after her graduation, she'd felt them waiting, looking for her to make that final choice. Something she simply couldn't do.

  Just thinking back over that last year, her pussy was sopping wet. She'd missed them so much--both of them. But she couldn't face them--face the questions, the demands, the need to choose between them. She guessed in a way she had made a choice back then. It was the choice not to choose between them--not to hurt one of them. She'd known all along if she had chosen one, she would always have longed for the other as well. It just would have hurt too damn much. Pretty stupid when you stopped to think about it.

  She looked up at the sign over the repair shop door and frowned. That whole senior year had been made up of choices. First Derek, then Mason. She'd wanted them both. They'd both wanted her. She'd ended up with neither. She'd turned her back on both of them because she couldn't decide. And she'd had fantasies about having them both. At the same time. She'd been certain at the time that they would have thought less of her for even voicing such an outrageous idea. So she'd smothered the thought. It just wasn't meant to be.

  Even now--seven years later--she kept her distance from them, living in a town several hours away, knowing she still couldn't decide between them. She still wanted them both just as much as she ever had, and the two of them were still as close as they had been back then.

  Living and working two hours away hadn't helped with the memories. Particularly on nights like this, when she had to drive all the way here to meet a potential client, and the urge to stop in to see them was overwhelming.

  She peered under the hood of the Mustang, unable to see anything. What the hell did she know about repairing cars anyway? She had no idea what she was looking for. She knew about investing money and she had an ingrained instinct for knowing what stocks to trade when. She had a knack for convincing clients to hand over their portfolios for her to manage and doing a damn good job of it. But nothing about cars. Yet she knew of a couple of guys who did. And she trusted them like no one else. She could not think of one person over the span of the last seven years she trusted as much as Derek and Mason.

  Tonight she'd been out to dinner with a client and was finally heading for home and a weekend of peace and quiet when it stopped dead. Right here. The damn engine wouldn't even turn over. Again, she glanced up at the repair shop, noting a light seemed to be on in an upstairs window. It appeared someone was still up.

  Giving up the fight, she stalked over to the door and banged hard with her fist. Ouch, that hurt. Would whomever was inside hear her? She waited. The steam bath of summer clung to her skin, and she swiped at the back of her neck. The white linen suit she wore felt damp and sticky against her skin. And no one came to the door.

  She lifted her hand and banged again.

  "Hello? Is anyone in there? I need some help out here," she yelled.

  As she waited, she unbuttoned her jacket and peeled it off. The thin silky short-sleeved blouse she wore underneath clung to her like a second skin.

  This just couldn't be happening. It wasn't really the best part of town, let alone the best time of night to try walking any distance. She was in a section where her cell phone didn't seem to have any coverage. Make a note--look into changing companies because this isn't the first time it's happened at an inconvenient mom
ent. She supposed she could walk until it kicked back in and then make a call, but damn, she was right here and there was a light on.

  Just as she prepared to again pound her aching fist against the door, it swung open and she stumbled into a stone wall.

  "What the hell!" a male voice barked.

  She remembered his smell--earthy, hard, and masculine--and knew exactly who was holding her. It felt damn good being in his arms again, but she carefully released herself from his steadying grip and stepped back, looking up, way up. That was a lot of years ago, and things change, even though her response to him hadn't. Well, yes it had, it was magnified.

  "Hello, Derek, it's been a long time." Could anyone be in a more uncomfortable situation than this?

  "Ginnie Thomas?" His eyes widened and his expression had turned to one of shock rather than annoyance.

  Derek had been the captain of the football team--broad, rugged, and tall. Every girl in school had wanted to date Derek, but he had singled out Ginnie. And, boy, did Derek know how to show a girl a good time and make her feel all female. He'd done that and more. And he sure as hell knew how to use his rugged body and sensual silver tongue. Even though she'd given in to her feelings for him on that very first date, he hadn't been the kind to tell stories. Had she ever been a pushover. Ginnie remembered going to school the next day expecting to hear her name whispered about, but it never happened. And Derek had asked her out again and again. Even when he and Mason had gone on to continue their education at a local college, he'd continued dating her.

  Two years older than her, she'd thought for sure he wouldn't want to continue to see her any more what with all the new friends he'd be meeting, but she'd been wrong.

  "Yes, it's me. I'm sorry to bother you, but my car broke down. I saw the light on and hoped someone might be here to help me out."

  Derek squinted past her to the dark shape of a lone car parked on the side of the street in front of the shop. Then his expression altered to one of surprise. "You're still running around in that old beat-up Mustang? I can't believe it."

  He stepped back from the door and motioned her inside. Brushing back a damp lock of errant hair, she stepped inside the darkened room. Looking around, she realized she was standing in the front office of the garage. She could smell gasoline and oil, but doubted it was as strong as in the six-bay garage extending toward the left, beyond the office door separating them.

  But Derek led her off in another direction, behind the counter, through another door and up a flight of stairs. He turned to look at her over his shoulder.

  "The apartment upstairs is air-conditioned--I think you'll be more comfortable there. Besides, Mason is up there watching television. I'm sure he'd want to see you. I still can't believe it. Ginnie Thomas."

  He stopped on the landing and she almost bumped into his hard abdomen as he turned toward her. She found herself staring directly at his belt, and just beneath that the evidence of a very hard erection bulging against the zipper of his jeans. She remembered the feel of that thick shaft--she remembered it very well.

  Only self-control stopped her from licking her lips and reaching up to feel the cock that had given her so much enjoyment in the past. He turned her on now no less than he had seven years ago, and, in fact, it seemed more so, as she had ideas of ripping his clothes off right here on the landing and asking him to fuck her.

  She couldn't do that, of course. She was a mature businesswoman, not a teenager any longer. Back then, the minute he parked the car out at Overlook Cliffs she was all over him like hot chocolate sauce on vanilla ice cream.

  "I--uhhhh--can't wait to see him," she managed to mumble. He stepped back to allow her room to ascend to the landing beside him. Stepping up, she joined him, her body responding with all the passion of remembered teenage trysts running rampant through her mind--and her body.

  They stood there staring at each other for moments that seemed to stretch on and on. "We missed you after you left for college. We thought sure you'd come back, but you never did." He reached up to stroke the side of her face. "You're just as pretty as you ever were. More so. The years look good on you, Gin. Real good."

  "I-I meant to come back, but things came up. You know how it is when you're a teenager." She was stalling, not wanting to tell him the real reason she hadn't returned.

  He lifted her left hand and stared at her bare fingers, then his gaze again rose to hers, questioning. "No rings? We thought for sure you'd be married by now."

  "No. No marriage, no engagement, no steady." She lifted his hand and smiled. "And you?"

  He grinned. "Nope, free as bird. Mason, too. Guess we never found the right woman. Nobody who could measure up to you."

  He was silent for a long moment as he looked past her, as though seeing into the past. "We were going to come see you at the beginning of your sophomore year in college. But then we thought it might not be a good idea. You'd have come home if you'd wanted to be with us."

  Us. She knew he meant him and Mason. Oh, she'd wanted to see them all right, but they would have wanted something from her she couldn't give them. They'd have wanted her to make a choice, and she just couldn't do it. She hadn't wanted to give up either of them.

  Mason was Derek's best friend, almost a brother--had been since the time they'd entered kindergarten. They were both on the football team. Derek had sable hair with lighter, caramel highlights and Mason had the summer-streaked blond. Mason looked more like he belonged on a surfboard, and Derek--well, he belonged on a windswept mountaintop. They both loved the outdoors and shared a passion for working on old cars. The last time she saw them, they were in their own sophomore year at college, and sharing an apartment. They had always been inseparable so it was no surprise when she heard they'd gone into business together. Mason's dad had decided to retire and had sold the station to the two of them. She really shouldn't have been surprised.

  It wasn't how she remembered. They'd expanded from three car bays to six and whenever she passed by there always seemed to be a steady stream of customers. They'd whitewashed the building and apparently had renovated the warehouse above the shop and turned it into an apartment, at least over the offices.

  Theirs had always been an odd relationship. She'd gone out with Mason because, during their freshman year in college, Derek had asked her to. He'd said Mason felt at ease with her and needed a female friend right now, and he was on the rebound and needed some cheering up. Would she mind?

  Hell, she'd always been just as attracted to Mason as she had been to Derek and she'd hated the thought he might be sad. How could she refuse a request like that? How many boyfriends would ask their girl to help out their best buddy in a time of need and not be jealous when it turned into something more than they'd all expected? It had turned into something deeper, more complicated than she ever could have anticipated. She'd been honest with Derek from the start and had expected him to be angry with her when she told him how she felt about Mason.

  But he hadn't been. What surprised her even more, was that neither of them ever seemed to be jealous when she went out with the other one, and, in fact, always encouraged her to have fun and enjoy herself. It was definitely an odd situation, but somehow she just couldn't say no to either one of them.

  She'd never understood their relationship, but she loved them both so much. Sometimes she'd been envious of the closeness they seemed to share, had wanted to be a part of it. She guessed it was just a guy thing--they'd always seemed more like brothers than best friends. But would brothers even have been willing to share a girlfriend? Somehow she doubted it. Back then she hadn't wanted to reason the acceptance of their strange situation. The worst part was that she'd thought if she chose one of them everything they had would break apart, and she couldn't bear hurting either one of them, or losing what they had.

  She'd opted for the coward's way out and hightailed it out of town. At least they would have their friendship intact, even if it did mean she would be alone. But the span of time had possibly changed th
ings--and none of them were attached right now.

  Without preamble, Derek dropped forward and claimed her lips. His arms came out to steady her as his tongue pressed between her lips. He tasted hard and male with a tinge of beer at the edges, the saltiness of peanuts, and a swirling heat began to invade her pussy.

  She remembered one particular night when he'd brought along a six-pack after their high school team had won a particularly difficult game and he wanted to celebrate. But not the way one would have expected.

  He'd taken one of the cold cans, popped it open and slowly poured it over her breasts. Her nipples had tightened as the cold liquid struck them and then he'd licked every bit off her body with his tongue and mouth. The remainder of the beer had gone unopened. But she remembered the scent in the air that night--his, hers, and the beer.

  Before she really had a chance to respond to the kiss in the way she wanted, he pulled back. She looked up at him and saw a smile lingering at the corner of his lips.

  "I wanted to see if you tasted as good as I remembered."

  "And?" she breathed, her heart thumping in her chest.

  "Well, you look all business-like in that sexy white suit, but underneath you're the same hot babe I remember." Chuckling and with that devilish twinkle in his eyes she remembered so well, he pivoted around and opened the door to the apartment, stepping inside. "Hey, Mason, we've got a visitor."

  She should be angry. He'd stolen a kiss and called her a hot babe, all in the same breath--and left her wanting more. But it wasn't anger she was feeling as she slowly followed him and entered the apartment. She was at a slow simmer of need.

  As she stepped inside, she breathed a sigh of relief as the cool air swamped her. She halted just inside the door and surveyed the room. It wasn't what she would have expected from two bachelors living over a repair shop. She could smell the recent remodeling in the hint of fresh paint, and saw it was actually very spacious, with modern, comfortable furniture, and surprisingly neat.