Evernight Publishing ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2014 Loralynne Summers
ISBN: 978-1-77233-169-1
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Brieanna Robertson
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To my husband—for all your support, and for being my Jason.
IN SELF DEFENSE
Romance on the Go
Loralynne Summers
Copyright © 2014
Chapter One
Sarah released the handle on the lawn mower and let the engine die when Jason parked his vintage 1977 Harley Davidson in front of her curb instead of continuing next door to his house. He pulled his helmet off, shook out his brown hair, and finger-combed it back. A section fell back down across his brow, kissing his cheekbone.
“Hey, the bike is done!” she said excitedly.
He scowled. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Uh, mowing the lawn. What does it look like?” She rolled her eyes.
“That’s not a—”
“Don’t you dare say ‘that’s not a woman’s job,’ Jason Wainwright. You know I’m not a weakling. You pay for my gym membership. I’m not going to pay someone to do it when I’m perfectly capable.”
“Actually, Sarah, I was going to say it’s not a great idea to be doing that right now, since it’s ninety-five degrees out and ball soup with the humidity. You’ll overheat.” He raised an eyebrow at her. She hated when he did that. She told him it was because she couldn’t do it, but the truth was, it made him look sexy as hell. And she shouldn’t think of her best friend as “sexy” in the “I want to ride his face” way.
“Well, I don’t have any other time to do it. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow afternoon, and I have to work all week. Unless I have a roommate I don’t know about, it won’t get done.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll do it, just like I have been all along.”
“Jason, I can’t keep letting you do everything for me just because you live next door. I need to stand on my own two feet. I can’t take advantage of your friendship. It’s bad enough that you’ve been ‘renting’ this place to me for free for almost a year.”
“I told you, I don’t care about rent. You want to go back to college next year and that’s more important to me than the money. You only have to give me enough to cover the taxes.”
“You know how much I appreciate that.” With the back of her hand, she wiped the sweat from her forehead. God, I’d love to show him just how much I “appreciate” him. “Doesn’t change the fact that the grass needs mowing.”
“Don’t worry about it. Go inside and take a shower. You’re coming with me.”
She planted a hand on her hip. “Yeah? And just where do you think we’re going?”
“I’m doing a poker run in an hour and a half. It’s my first real ride on the bike. We finally finished the rebuild yesterday. I want to share it with you.”
“Five stops or seven?”
“Five.”
“What’s it for?”
“It’s a fundraiser for autism research. There’s a band and a pig roast at the final stop. All the guys from the shop are doing it. C’mon, Sags. I already paid for both of us. Please?”
Spend the rest of the day on a motorcycle with Jason, with an excuse to hold him much more intimately than she should? Yeah, she could get behind that idea. And it would be so nice to get out to a few bars and relax. But she wasn’t letting him win her over that easily. Gotta play hard to get and all that.
“But the lawn…”
“You want me to play the landlord card? Because I will. Get your ass in the shower. I’ll put this stuff away.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “But I better not hear you bitch when this shit is crazy high by the end of the week.”
She went inside to clean up, grateful for the central air. Glancing at the bathroom mirror, she was horrified by her filthy reflection. I can’t believe he saw me like this. I’m a mess. The humidity made her naturally curly hair frizzy, her ponytail exploding out behind her head. Dirt smeared her forehead where she’d wiped it, and pieces of grass clung to her sweaty cleavage. She sighed. Like he would ever think of me as more than a friend. A steady stream of hot girls marched in and out of the house next door. She couldn’t hold a candle to any of them when it came to looks. What would he want with her?
Determined to take advantage of the situation, Sarah dressed carefully, donning the clothes she’d saved for just such an opportunity. She’d scrimped and saved her money since moving here, not buying anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. When she’d seen this outfit, though, her mind immediately conjured Jason. He would love it. Allowing herself the splurge, she siphoned money from her budget for several weeks to pay for it. Now she’d find out if the expense was worth it.
She slid her freshly shaven legs into a pair of knee-high stockings. The jeans hugged her like a second skin, leaving no room for socks. She’d die in the heat with no air flow for her skin to breathe—especially once the leather boots encased her lower legs. But for Jason, she’d do anything. Taking a deep gulp of courage, she laced up the black and red corset, the boning in it pushing her C-cups into more cleavage than she’d had in her life. It was the most revealing, tightest outfit she’d ever worn.
****
Recently, Jason often pictured Sarah Sagliembeni as a hot, sweaty mess. In his imagination, though, she’d be naked in his bed screaming his name, not mowing the lawn. One of these days, I swear. Moving her into his rental house had been the perfect solution to the problem of her douchebag ex-boyfriend. Jason had refused to take no for an answer. While she’d been in the hospital recovering from the beating the asshole gave her, he’d gathered her things. Her mom loved the idea, especially after the cops arrested the fucker in the hospital, thanks to Jason’s biker brothers. They all knew that Jason considered Sarah family.
Until recently.
He kicked down the stand on the bike and pulled his t-shirt off. Regardless of the temperature, he would finish the mowing while she showered. It didn’t take him long—she had done most of it and there wasn’t much left. But that wasn’t the point. He’d been doing it, and would continue doing it, no matter how much of a fuss she put up.
Bent in half, he ran ice cold water from the hose over his head and back. The sexiest pair of fuck-me-boots he’d ever seen appeared in the corner of his vision. He wondered who’d come over while he was putting the mower back in the shed. Under the cover of his dripping hair, he ran his gaze up the leather boots, the painted-on jeans, and the oh-my-goddamn she’s got a corset on, to see Sarah’s face.
He actually did a double-take.
It was still her.
Wiping the water from his eyes, he stared at her. She stood on the porch, arms crossed, glaring down at him.
“You’re an asshole,” she said, but he knew the anger in her tone was fake.
Think fast, man. Stop gawking at your best friend. Pick your chin off the ground.
He grinned. “You know it, babe. You look great, by the way.” Lord, did she ever. After bringing her home from the hospital, he got her a gym membership so she could take self-defense classes. Reluctant at first, she slowly warmed to going. Now she worked out faithfully at l
east three times a week, even though she’d never needed to lose weight.
She blushed at his compliment and started down the steps. “Thanks.”
As he watched her walk, his mind superimposed images of how she now looked without excess clothes—a sculpted back, lean legs, and the slightest hint of washboard abs. These images came all the time now, since the day he’d seen her at the gym in nothing but headgear, a sports bra, and shorts, beating the hell out of the kickboxing instructor. Perfectly proportioned between muscle and curves, she was a twenty on a scale of one-to-ten. He’d been ready to hit on that woman until she pulled off her headgear and he saw it was Sarah.
He nodded to her boots. “You planning on impaling my calves while we ride?” The heel had to be at least three inches high. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder, march into the house, toss her down on the bed, and unzip those bad boys with his teeth, poker run be damned.
She paused, her hand resting on the railing, one booted foot hovering over the bottom step. “I can change my shoes…”
“No, I’m just teasing. Leave them on. I like them. A lot, actually.”
Her eyes lit up and she blushed further.
“Ready? Got your keys and ID?”
“Can you take them? I’m afraid they’ll fall out.”
He grunted his agreement. He didn’t see how anything could fall out of those pockets, not when the jeans were so tight, but he wasn’t about to point that out. Too many comments along those lines all at once might scare her off. He pulled his wallet from the cargo pocket of his shorts and tucked her ID in behind his.
“Oh! Wait! One more thing. Gimme my keys.” She ran back up the steps and into the house. A minute later, she re-emerged, holding out a bottle of sunblock. “Would you mind? I don’t have a base tan yet this year, and I don’t want to burn.”
“Of course, no problem.” She spun, presenting her neck and shoulders to him. His hands shook as they hovered above her for a moment. He’d done this for her a million times since high school when they’d gone swimming or riding. Why was this time different? Because you want to do very naughty things with your hands on her body now, that’s why. Well, there was that. Fuck it. Time to test the waters. He let his hands slowly travel the soft expanse of skin, gently massaging the lotion in. His fingers teased the edges of her top, and he barely contained a gasp when he discovered she wore no bra underneath.
A small sigh escaped her, and she leaned back into the caress, shoulders sinking into his chest as he massaged her upper arms. He hoped she wouldn’t lean back much further, because he could probably break a concrete block with his hard-on.
“How come you put your hair up? Your helmet might be too tight now.” The graceful lines of her slender neck were accentuated by the French twist she’d pulled her hair into. He spent many a night imagining pulling that hair to the side and kissing her neck.
“It’s freaking hot out, Jason. I’ll be sweaty enough in the sun. I don’t need my hair sticking to my neck to add to it.”
“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. I just wanted some company.” Her company.
“I want to go. You know I love riding with you.”
“Just checking.”
“Jason?”
“Yeah?” He felt her pulse racing beneath his fingertips as he continued to massage her neck.
“I think I’m good with the sunblock. You can probably stop now.”
“Sorry.” He pulled his hands away with regret, trying to convince his body to send his blood supply back to his brain. And wanting desperately to believe that her tone of voice and body language had betrayed her words. She didn’t sound like she wanted him to stop.
She pulled her helmet on and gestured at his still-bare upper body. “You planning on riding shirtless? They may be biker bars, but I’m pretty sure you still need a shirt on to get inside.”
“Only if you’re a guy.” He winked, grinning wickedly.
“Pig. Put your shirt on. I’m not clinging to your sweaty back all day.”
Not all day, but hopefully all night…
Grin still plastered on his face, he tugged his shirt over his head and grabbed his helmet.
****
Thankfully, he put his shirt on before Sarah did something she’d probably regret. When he wasn’t tearing apart bikes in his dad’s shop, Jason worked as a personal trainer. She longed to run her hands over all those muscles. At some point since moving in, her mind had moved Jason from the “friend/brother” category to the “OMG I want to fuck him so hard” category. The only dates she’d had since moving here were of the battery-operated variety, so that could have something to do with it. Plenty of guys from the gym had offered to help with that situation, but none held her interest. Especially not when she could eye-hump Jason every day.
And his hands…even though they were rough and callused from years of hard work, he’d been tender and gentle, almost sensual in the way he massaged her shoulders. He’d never touched her like that before. What he’d done just now had stoked a fire inside her she’d believed long extinguished thanks to Alex and all the other assholes before him. Her thong clung to her, damp from the rush of fluid brought on by the thought of what else his hands could do to her. The skimpy bit of fabric teased at her sensitized skin with every step.
She waited until he faced her to swing her leg over the bike, giving him a good look at her ass. Jason was an ass man, everybody knew it. Thanks to hours at the gym, hers looked pretty damned good. The least she could do to repay him for the membership was to show him the results. From the corner of her eye, she caught his sharp intake of breath. Yeah, buddy. I’m not happy being your “sister” anymore. Take notice.
He cleared his throat and straddled the bike in front of her. “Ready?” he called over his shoulder. Not waiting for a response, he kicked the bike off the stand, throwing her off balance. Throwing her arms out to avoid smashing face-first into his lower back, she got two handfuls of rock-hard ass.
“Jerk!” she yelled in response to his laugh. Beneath her hands, she felt every muscle move when he brought his leg up to drive down the kickstart.
“You have to let go of my ass so I can sit, Sarah.” Amusement colored his voice, the smirk on his face quite visible as he turned his head so she could hear him over the engine. Embarrassment flamed her cheeks at being called out on her groping, and she dropped her hands. She hooked her boots around the foot rests and grabbed loosely at the sides of his shirt. She’d pay dearly tomorrow for wearing heels so high, but they brought her tiny five-foot-two frame a smidge closer to Jason’s six-three. Not to mention they were hot and showcased her legs.
They checked in at the first bar, drawing their card and buying a drink before taking off. They’d get a card at each stop and then at the pig roast, the person with the best poker hand would win a prize. She had no idea what cards beat what in poker, but didn’t care. She was with Jason, and he was happy, so that’s all that mattered. The bike was handling nicely, and she commented on it at the next stop.
“Yeah, it took lots of work, but I finally got dad’s old ride working again.” Pride shone on his face. “He said I could keep it if I fixed it, so it’s officially mine now. Lots of the guys picked on me for putting a two-up on it, though.”
“Why would they do that?” She was confused. Most of the guys’ wives or girlfriends rode with them.
“They said the girls I dated wouldn’t be caught dead on it, ‘cause the ride would be too rough and the seat I put on was too small.”
“Oh I don’t think so. I’m quite comfy in it. It’s the perfect size for me.”
He looked her over before downing the last of his beer. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d say that.” Her breath caught. Was she imagining the look in his eyes? “Besides, as I pointed out to them, I’ve been single for a while, so it really doesn’t matter.”
Now that he mentioned it, she realized she hadn’t seen many girls with him lately. He’d been spending most of his f
ree time at her place, fixing things or watching movies with her.
“Yeah, what gives with that? The resident man-whore is on a losing streak? How long has it been? Should I call the Vatican?”
“Funny, Sags. You ready?” Her insides warmed at his use of the nickname. It was one only he used. She told herself she imagined the hurt tone, though.
“Yeah, Jase. I’m ready.” Ready to make you forget all those other girls, if only I knew how.
“And it’s been six months, for the record.” He locked his eyes on hers for a moment before continuing. “By choice.” Downing the last of his beer, he turned, leaving her to stare after him.
After that exchange, the ride to the next bar was awkward, and of course it was the longest leg of the run. Her hands ached to rub his shoulders, to relax the tight set of his muscles. If she knew how she’d caused it, she’d willingly fix it. She found herself pressed against that wall of tension when a strong gust of wind came in from behind at the next light. His back stiffened.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, knowing he wouldn’t hear her.
“You okay?” he yelled, turning his head to the side.
“Yeah, wind!” she yelled back. He relaxed slightly.
“We’re almost there. Hold on,” he said, and grabbed her arm, pulling it further around his waist. Swallowing hard, she inched her other arm forward and prayed they’d be there soon.
The second she was able to, she jumped off the bike.
“Gotta pee!” she yelled as she ran into the bar. She slammed the stall door shut and leaned against it, her hands shaking. What the hell was I thinking? I can’t do this. This is Jason. My best friend, my rock, my everything. If he sends me packing, I’ll have to move back in with my parents. Well then, she’d just have to not fuck it up.
She was probably overthinking every little signal from him today. It may have been two years since she’d actively dated, but she couldn’t be that rusty. He had to be sending her signs. She steeled her resolve. Smile plastered on her face, she exited the bathroom.
Chapter Two
In Self Defense Page 1