Slide (Boosted Hearts Book 3)

by Sherilee Gray

Lucy had indulged in a few drinks, more than a few if she was honest, and her tequila haze was making it kind of hard to comprehend what in the hell was going on. “What?” she said again stupidly.

  He moved suddenly. His chest hit hers, backing her up, and her butt slammed against the bar. “If you let that fucker touch you one more damn time, Lucy, I will lose my shit. Do you understand?”

  No. No, she didn’t. Not at all. She opened her mouth, snapped it shut, and opened it again.

  Then they were moving, Adam towing her through the restaurant and out the door.

  Chapter Four

  Adam stared down at his fingers still wrapped around Lucy’s wrist, grip tight and unyielding, and told himself to let the fuck go.

  He couldn’t.

  He’d sat there and watched as some other guy danced with her, ran his fucking hands over her, made her goddamn laugh, and what he’d felt was something he’d never experienced in his life.

  When he’d found out about Lucy and her professor, her fucking married-with-a-family professor, it was after the affair had ended, after Hugh had torn the asshole a new one. It was all over. Adam had been angry, fucking furious. But the whole thing had felt abstract, just words that he’d shoved to the back of his mind as fast and as deep as he could. He hadn’t had to see it, witness her with someone else, with his own two eyes.

  He hadn’t felt this, this feeling of…Christ, white-hot jealousy.

  No. Fuck that. Jealous wasn’t the right word for what he was feeling. This went beyond that. Something deeper—darker.

  Something damn near primal.

  Right then letting her go wasn’t an option, not after seeing her with someone else. Not after seeing her eyes shine with laughter at something the guy said. Watching as another man made his move on her and knowing if he didn’t do something it was going to work, that for whatever reason Lucy had decided tonight she would go home with a random asshole and let him fuck her.

  Wasn’t going to happen.

  Lucy gripped his fingers and tried to pry them off. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Adam didn’t stop. He kept walking around the side of the restaurant to his car. “Taking you home.”

  “I don’t want to go home.”

  They got to his car and he towed her to the passenger side. “That guy was all over you.”

  She yanked her arm out of his grip and this time he let her. “So?” She straightened her spine, eyes flashing. “Maybe I wanted him all over me.”

  “You’ve been downing fucking tequila shots. You don’t know what you want.”

  She laughed, loud and right in his face. “What do you think happens in college, Adam? That we all sit around singing ‘Kumbaya’ and compare celibacy rings?” She shoved at his chest. “I’m not a goddamn virgin and this isn’t the first time I’ve been drinking and hooked up.”

  “Lucy—”

  “Actual, real live boys have seen me naked. They’ve touched my lady parts and”—she faked shock, hand flying to her chest—“I actually like it.”

  He wanted to shake her, make her stop goddamn talking. Those images in his head were not a good idea, not when he was already feeling so close to tipping off the cliff of good sense and into oblivion.

  He gritted his teeth so he didn’t do or say something that he shouldn’t. “Get in the car.”

  “Something wrong?” She gave his shoulder a shove. “You look a little green around the gills there, buddy. Don’t you like it when I talk about the guys I’ve fucked?”

  “Lucy,” he growled.

  “It’s perfectly natural. You of all people should know that. Fucking feels good. Amazing. I never thought you, a certified, unapologetic manwhore, would be the one to pussy block me—”

  He was in her space, crowding her, before he knew his feet were moving. He dipped lower so they were eye level. “Keep talking. I fucking dare you.”

  She stared up at him, pale green eyes full of challenge and a whole lot of anger. Leaning in, her mouth went to his ear, warm breath tickling his skin, and fuck him, he couldn’t move. “When he touched me, his chest rubbing against my hard nipples…God, it turned me on.”

  Without his say-so, his hips slammed forward, pinning her to his truck. A show of ownership he had no right to and could never follow through on. “Stop.” His voice sounded rough, as close to the precipice as he felt.

  Her breathing turned heavy, gaze traveling over his face, down to his lips. She licked her own and he almost groaned aloud. “I don’t need you to protect me, Adam. And I don’t need another brother. I’m a big girl. Been looking after myself a long time.”

  Breath hissed through his teeth when she moved against him, dragging her tits against his chest just like she said she had with the guy in the restaurant. His guard began to fracture. “That’s not what this is about.”

  Shut the fuck up. Now.

  She blinked, eyes sliding back to his mouth only an inch from hers. “No?”

  He shook his head.

  She was so close that when she spoke her lips brushed the corner of his mouth. His whole body fucking quaked, the heat and softness of her lush lips on him slamming through him like a head-on with a Mack truck. The lust pounding him was all-consuming, overwhelming.

  Wrong.

  This was wrong.

  Step the fuck back.

  “Adam,” she whispered.

  In that moment, he thought he might actually die. His body would rend in two. The opposing sides of him waging war, what he wanted and what he knew was right, were at a stalemate. He couldn’t step away and he couldn’t turn and kiss her.

  Color darkened her cheeks, there was no space between their bodies, she was flush against him, every inch of her.

  Christ. A sound tore from his throat, a sound he’d never made in his life. It was raw, angry, hungry—too many things to name.

  Lucy heard it, she heard them all. Every damn emotion battering him.

  Her gaze sharpened and she licked her lips. Lips that had played a part in every one of his fantasies. Lips that he hadn’t even allowed himself to touch, even in his dreams.

  Then she said it.

  “You want to kiss me.”

  Not a question.

  His hands went to the car behind her, caging her in, every muscle bunched tight, gut in knots, blood pounding through his veins so loud he could hear it rushing through his ears. “Yes.” The word snapped from his mouth, aggressive in its delivery. Because, goddamn it, he was angry—that he had put himself in this position, that he’d put Lucy in this position, and that she was looking at him like she wanted it as much as he did. If he didn’t taste her just once, he thought he might lose his mind—but he couldn’t cross that line. Not ever. No matter how much he wanted to.

  Her hands went to his sides, and he shuddered when he felt her dig her fingers in, the heat of her palms coming through his shirt.

  “Do it,” she rasped, husky, sexy as hell.

  His breathing was choppy, the sound cutting the night air. It was just the two of them. The sound of the restaurant, the music, the laughing, vanished completely. His cock was an iron rod in his jeans, and when she tilted her hips more snugly against his, he damn near snarled.

  Do it. Take what she’s offering, the devil on his shoulder whispered in his ear.

  You’ll lose everything and you’ll take her down with you, the voice of reason countered.

  He knew it was the truth and the final little push that tipped the balance. For once in his life, he needed to do the right thing. He needed to not be a selfish asshole.

  “You’re hot, Luce,” he forced out, voice like rusted steel. Beautiful, exquisite, amazing, funny, sweet. Mine. No, she wasn’t his, which was why he had to say this. “And I won’t lie. I’d love a night between your thighs.” He slid his knuckles down the side of her face. “But, baby girl, that’s all it would ever be. And for all your talk, that’s not you, and we both know it.”

  One night wouldn’t be enough for m
e either.

  She flinched. It was small, but he saw. He noticed everything when it came to Lucy.

  “Hugh and Joe…they…”

  “It has nothing to do with your brothers.” He was lying, of course. They had a lot to do with this, but they weren’t the only reason for putting on the brakes, not by a long shot.

  “Why, then?” Her fingers dug into his sides harder and, shit, his knees nearly gave out.

  He let his gaze roam her body, forcing a leer. “Sweetheart, you’re too much damn trouble. Why would I go there with you when I can go to any club in this city and find company for the night?”

  She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose and her lashes dropped, concealing her eyes from him for several seconds. But when they opened again, instead of his cruel words causing hurt, giving her that final push to walk away from him and never look back, her pale eyes shone with determination.

  His gut clenched.

  “Why did you drag me out of there, Adam? What was that?”

  He dropped his arms and stepped back, hating it, instantly mourning her warmth, her softness, her spring blossom, honey scent. “I promised Hugh I’d get you home safe, and that’s what I plan to do.”

  The moon was full and bright and her lips shone, either from her lip gloss or from licking them, he wasn’t sure, but it was making him insane to taste and lick, suck and nibble that full, succulent, pouty mouth.

  Lucy didn’t look away from him. Her gaze cut through him, assessing, taking his measure. Like a boxer sizing up his opponent before a fight. One hit and he’d be out for the count. He knew it. He just hoped like hell she didn’t strike.

  Finally, she dropped her hands and crossed her arms, head tilting to the side slightly, hair sliding over her bare shoulder. “Fine. Let’s go, then.”

  He waited a second for the punch line, for her next question, but it never came, and she turned on her heel and climbed into the passenger side.

  Adam stood there, taking a minute to get his shit together.

  He needed to get out of this city, sooner rather than later. Being around Lucy was too much of a temptation. And if he didn’t put some distance between them right fucking now, he’d break, consequences be damned.

  Thank fuck he had the excuse he needed. Tomorrow night he was getting his cousin’s car.

  A solo road trip and a few days away to clear his head was exactly what he needed.

  ~ * ~

  Lucy sat beside Adam, mind spinning a hundred miles an hour.

  The man was a bad liar, at least when he was lying to her. He was all over the place tonight, one minute pushing her away, the next tugging her close.

  I won’t lie. I’d love a night between your thighs, but, baby girl, that’s all it would ever be.

  She could admit those words had stung as much as they’d excited her. But they weren’t a surprise. And in some messed up way, it was a relief having him cement what she already knew: Adam Grady did not do relationships.

  Old Lucy would have taken advantage of that show of weakness and pounced on the opportunity to get what she wanted, but she couldn’t be that girl anymore. She’d hurt other people. She’d hurt herself.

  Yeah, and didn’t you do just a great job of showing everyone how much you’d changed tonight?

  Adam pulled up outside the garage, right beside the stairs that led to her apartment.

  She had to put this to bed—okay, maybe not the best metaphor—for her own good. Turning to him, she took a fortifying breath—the tequila shots still buzzing through her bloodstream helping a whole lot, giving her courage—and touched his forearm, curling her fingers around his warm skin, coarse hairs tickling her palm, just like she had all those years ago. When he’d done exactly what he had tonight outside the restaurant when she’d gotten too close, lashing out, pushing her away—anything to avoid the feelings he had for her. The lust they both felt for each other.

  Suddenly, it all became clear. She hadn’t allowed herself to believe it. Had been afraid to believe it, afraid of how it would affect her. How she would ever get over him, stop wanting him, when she knew he wanted her, too.

  There was no point denying the truth. But for whatever reason, or reasons—two large, overprotective ones, no doubt—he wouldn’t go there with her.

  His nostrils flared. “Lucy…” His voice was rough as hell, gritty.

  She leaned in, and she didn’t mean to, but her breasts pressed against his bicep. A shudder moved through his solid frame, and her throat got so tight she was surprised she could still speak. “Thanks for the ride.” She slid her hand around the side of his neck, right over that beautiful feather tattoo, and pressed a kiss to his jaw. A goodbye kiss, to Adam, to silly dreams that would never come true, and to the old Lucy. It was time to grow up. “’Bye, Adam.”

  His hand snaked out, halting her when she tried to pull back.

  She tried to get free, but he wouldn’t let her, his dark eyes locked on hers. She couldn’t do this anymore. God, how could this hurt so much when they never were, when nothing had ever happened between them? “I better go.” She pulled against his hold again, and this time he released her.

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course.”

  As she took the stairs up to her place, she didn’t look back. And she knew, felt his heavy gaze on her the whole way.

  She’d wanted this man for as long as she could remember, and after tonight, she knew he wanted her, too. But it was never going to happen between them.

  And if she wanted to give new Lucy a fighting chance, she had to let the fantasy go.

  There was no room in her life for make believe. Not anymore.

  Chapter Five

  Stunning. Exactly like Adam remembered. Long and lean. Sleek, subtle curves. Shit, sexy. Lying and telling his cousin he couldn’t find her—messing with him for a few weeks while he enjoyed her—might have crossed his mind.

  But John’s relationship with the 1970 Plymouth Hemi Superbird was already unhealthy as far as Adam was concerned. If he didn’t get it back to him in Chicago ASAP, shit would get hairy. He didn’t want the guy charging down there and going mass-murder psycho on these guys.

  Adam stood just beyond a chain-link fence, far enough back he was in shadow but not too far back he couldn’t make out the main players. No one he was on friendly terms with, that’s for damn sure. They were minor guys he knew of from his years boosting, before he was forced into retirement. He hadn’t decided whether that forced retirement was a good thing or not quite yet. Yeah, it was the right thing to do—hanging up his lock picks—but he missed it, missed the thrill. While he was boosting, he was out of his own head. There was no space for him in there when every one of his senses was on high alert. Something he’d relied on for a lot of years. You could say he was self-medicated. Fast cars and faster women. Whatever it took to give him that kick of adrenaline, that rush of endorphins. They did what antidepressants and shrink appointments hadn’t ever been able to do.

  His gut tightened at the memory of a cold office, the sound of the wall clock ticking down the minutes until he could get the fuck out of there and work at forgetting again.

  He turned back to the car parked several yards away, and a familiar rush of excitement pumped through his veins. He needed this, and wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself just how much. Things hadn’t been the same since Hugh and Joe gave up the game and shacked up with their women.

  Adam could feel the tension that was always there in the pit of his gut getting tighter. If he didn’t do something to release it, he was headed for a downward spiral of epic proportions. Screwing anything that walked, the chase, the release, it wasn’t enough anymore. Not on its own. He needed this, the danger that came with it.

  Granted, this wasn’t quite the same. He was stealing back his cousin’s car and returning it. Not exactly high octane stuff. And he was well aware how fucked up that made him. He also knew he couldn’t go back to that life, being a thief, no matter how much he needed it—not if he
didn’t want to end up in prison, or worse, if he pissed off the wrong people.

  He had to find another way, something else that gave him this feeling…

  A pair of pale green eyes drifted through his mind. And like always, with merely the thought of her, he felt it, the kick to the midsection, the stirring of his cock.

  Idiot. Do not go there.

  He still couldn’t believe the way he’d behaved at Abella’s. But seeing her with someone else like that, knowing if he didn’t step in he’d have to watch her go home with some other guy, had forced him to act. The idea had been unacceptable. Shit, it had made him feel ill. Which was why leaving town for a while was for the best. He had no damn right getting in her way like that. None. But he knew if it happened again, if he had to watch her with someone else like that, he wouldn’t just be dragging her out and taking her home. Lucy would end up in his bed, underneath him, and he’d never let her back out.

  Curling his fingers into a tight fist, he shoved Lucy out of his head—even thinking about her was dangerous—and dragged his attention back to the reason he was there.

  There were several men moving around inside the warehouse. These guys did this for a quick buck, purposely staying clear of the heavy hitters in Los Angeles. And though they were bad news, there was no one there who caused Adam any great concern. If he got in and out clean, the chances of blowback were zilch.

  The car was stolen from John three weeks ago while here in LA on business. His cousin had been out of his mind, but the car was rare enough Adam had been confident he’d find it. And there she was, ripe for the picking.

  It took a while, but finally he got his shot. Ducking through the gap he’d cut in the fence, he slipped into the yard surrounding the rundown warehouse.

  He was back.

  And, damn, it felt good.

  ~ * ~

  Lucy stared at the pile of clothes on her bed. What was she going to do? Where would she go?