Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love
Page 38
The phone rang until her message machine told him to leave a message.
“Merry Christmas, babe. This is Brock. Call me.” He left his number.
After an hour when she hadn’t called back, he rang her again. And again he got her voice mail.
Then he got worried. What if something had happened on her drive home? If she’d been in an accident, nobody would know. Who knew to see if she made it home safely last night? His family had been on the lookout for him but her parents were on a cruise somewhere.
He heard the crunch of tires on the icy gravel. Probably one of Lauren’s friends coming by to see her Christmas haul. He geared himself up for a giggling teenager and waited for the doorbell.
It took a while for Lauren’s friend to make it from car to porch. By the time the doorbell rung, he was fully irritated at having to serve as his sister’s doorman on Christmas.
He flung open the door and froze. A punch as solid as a mule kick hit him in the gut.
“Hi.” Natalie stood looking up at him. She gave a little shrug. “I got lonely last night.”
When he continued to stand there, she added, “Do you want me to leave?”
“Oh hell, no.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I’m here. And I’m freezing.”
He laughed and pulled her into the house. “Give me your coat. How did you get here?”
She slipped off the heavy winter coat and handed it to him. “I drove. You realize that between my house and your house is a lot of crappy weather, right? The simple four–hour–drive you promised me took closer to six.” She watched him as he hung her coat on a peg.
His heart beat like a bass drum in his ears. His sweaty palms were back. He could hardly catch his breath.
“You came,” he said.
“I came.”
“Why?” He had to ask. He had to know if their feelings were the same.
“Why did you ask me to come?”
Their gazes met and held, each of them seemingly waiting on the other to speak first.
He took a step toward her. “I asked you to come because I knew what we had at the Sand Castle wasn’t a vacation fling. At least not for me. And I don’t believe it was for you either.”
She took a step closer to him. “It wasn’t a fling.”
“I…” He paused, knowing the next words would either send her into his arms or out his door. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
She nodded. “Yep. Same problem over here.”
When he smiled, she threw herself into his arms and covered his face with kisses. He caught her face between his hands and crushed her mouth in a deep kiss. Their tongues said all the things their words couldn’t, or couldn’t yet.
I love you.
I love you too.
Don’t go.
I’m not going anywhere.
About the Cynthia D’Alba:
Award–winning author Cynthia D’Alba was born and raised in a small Arkansas town. After being gone for a number of years, she’s thrilled to be making her home back in Arkansas living in a vine–covered cottage on the banks of an eight–thousand acre lake. When she’s not reading or writing or plotting, she’s doorman for her two dogs, cook, housekeeper and chief bottle washer for her husband and slave to a noisy, messy parrot. She loves to chat online with friends and fans.
You can find her most days at one of the following online homes:
Website:
Facebook:
Twitter:
Or drop her a line at cynthia@cynthiadalba.com
Or send snail mail to: Cynthia D’Alba PO Box 2116 Hot Springs, AR 71914
Look for these other titles by Cynthia D’Alba
Texas Two Step: The Prequel
Texas Two Step, Book One, Texas Montgomery Mavericks
Texas Tango, Book Two, Texas Montgomery Mavericks
Texas Fandango, Book Three, Texas Montgomery Mavericks
Texas Twist, Book Four, Texas Montgomery Mavericks
Look for short stories by Cynthia D’Alba in these collections:
Cowboy Heat
Smokin’ Hot Firemen
Wild at Heart, Vol. 1
The Mammoth Book of ER Romances
Born To Sin (Southern Sin 2)
Danica Avet
Text Copyright Danica Avet 2014
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Dedication
This is the story that almost wasn’t. Not from a lack of motivation, but from external conflicts. Real life, for a writer at least, can be a nightmare. Family crises, computer failures and evil day job stress can wreak havoc on the creative mind, which is precisely what happened here.
With that in mind, I have to give major thanks to the ladies in my circle of friends for offering their support through everything. Lea Barrymire, A.M. Griffin, Anya Richards and Amy Ruttan kept me from going over several cliffs while this short story was being written…and rewritten. You guys are the best. Conversations about stabby…body parts and stories about talks you have with your kids kept me sane. I love y’all!
I’d also like to thank Ryan Steel for the amazing picture on Born to Sin’s spine. He was great inspiration for Sinclair.
Blurb
Book 2 in the Southern Sin Series
Just another one of the guys. That’s how Taylor Guillory has always been treated in her hometown of Grand Terre, Louisiana. And for the most part she never minded until Sinclair “Sin” Rivas opened shop in town. With his dangerous eyes and legendary sex god status, Sin is so far out of her league, but that doesn’t stop Taylor from falling in love with the impossible man, or doing something so daring and unlike her for the chance to be with him.
Knowing he’s no good for her, Sin has stayed far away from Taylor since the day she walked into his shop, but when the little spitfire propositions him in the middle of the bar, there’s no way he’ll be able to walk away from the temptation. But his one–night only rule when it comes to women is challenged by the pleasure they experience, making him think that he might be a one–woman man after all.
But Sin has secrets that could very well destroy anything they forge together.
Chapter One
This was such a bad idea it wasn’t even funny. Taylor Guillory gulped down the rest of her beer in the hopes it would help soothe her nerves. Slamming the glass back onto the bar, she took a breath but the imminent freak–out was still there.
Why was she doing this again? Oh, right. Because she was stupidly in love with a man who considered her a buddy at best and as a little sister at worse. But he wasn’t just any man. No. Taylor couldn’t do things the easy way by falling for a normal guy, who was awesome in his own way, but not so awesome that every woman in Grand Terre panted after him. She couldn’t give her heart to a man who dated regular girls. The ones who weren’t too pretty or too perfect. No, she had to go after a man who had a reputation for dating only the most beautiful, feminine women.
Because she was an idiot.
Taylor bit back a groan and signaled for another beer. Robbie, the owner of Rockin’ Robbie’s, looked surprised by her request but luckily didn’t give her any shit. She wasn’t sure she could take it tonight. She needed all of her nerve if she was going to throw herself at Sinclair “Sin” Rivas. With the simple thought of his name her body heated, the way it always did when her brain took that direction–which was far too often for her peace of mind.
She shouldn’t have been surprised by her eventual downward spiral into unstable lust over him. Ever since Sin opened Rivas Repair and Restoration in the center of Grand Terre a good six years before, he’d been the topic of more fantasies than a Playboy bunny. Taylor was almost sure of that fact because she’d heard about him from the hallways of Grand Terre High School to the hallowed pews of St. Matthew’s Church. Not that anyone said anything really raunchy in church–that would’ve bee
n blasphemous–but Taylor was positive more than one woman in town had ended up confessing their unholy desire for the sexy mechanic.
And despite all the internal coaching she’d done, the pep talks and mental smackdowns she’d given herself ever since she discovered the wonder of Sin, Taylor was no different. Well, she was just a little different because, unlike most of the women who lusted after him, Sin actually hung out with Taylor. Not in a I–want–to–tear–your–clothes–off way, but in a hey–can–you–hand–me–that–wrench way.
Everyone thought she was so lucky to have a reason to hang out with Sin whenever she wanted, and she was. She really was. He was a great guy. Funny, smart, driven to make his business succeed, and he loved cars as much as Taylor did. It wasn’t perfect though. He was a Dallas Cowboys’ fan while she loved the Saints, but she gave him a pass on that because he didn’t know any better, having lived in Dallas most of his life. She figured if he lived in south Louisiana long enough, he’d better understand the true wonder and agony of being a Saints fan.
Their friendship wasn’t tight, but Sin was a lot closer to her than he was to anyone else in town. Well, if you forgot about all the women who got the honor of having toe–curling, hair–curling, screaming–your–head–off, mind–blowing sex with him. And those were words Taylor had heard mentioned in the same breath as Sin when those same women wobbled into Guillory’s to pick up a pack of cigarettes even if they didn’t smoke, because yeah, apparently Sin was that good.
But Taylor wasn’t in that league of very special women and unless she took the bull by the horns or, in this case, the stud by his…well, you know…she would never experience sex the way it should be. Passionate and wild, good enough to leave you with a smile on your face and walking funny. That’s what she wanted. Not like the few fumbled encounters she’d had in her very limited experience.
Robbie placed her second beer in front of her and Taylor reached for it. She’d planned this down to the minute. Well, except for her nerves. There was no way she’d be able to calm those, so she chose alcohol to do it for her. Sipping this round instead of gulping it the way she really wanted to, Taylor reviewed her plan in her mind again.
When she’d stopped by Rivas Repair after closing Guillory’s, Taylor had casually mentioned that she was going to Robbie’s alone. Sin might see her as one of the guys because she could strip and rebuild a carburetor faster than some of his mechanics, but he didn’t like her doing things he considered “at risk”. As though simply breathing the same air he did wasn’t already dangerous for her continued health. So she’d baited her trap and now she was just waiting for him to take it.
Then it was a matter of utilizing the skills she’d picked up from watching that trilogy of pornos to see if he liked the bait she put out there. That had been embarrassing, but so worth it. She’d learned a lot more about what men liked from those three short, sadly plot–less movies than she had in all the years she’d hung out with the guys. Because she’d had no idea there was this obsession with coming all over a woman’s face and various body parts, but apparently that was a big thing, since there’d been a whole section in the online store about it.
Taylor had given a mental shrug and set about learning how to seduce a man into giving her the sex she so desperately wanted. She still wasn’t a hundred percent sure about the dialogue she’d memorized, but it’d worked for the female lead in all three videos. Logically, she knew the pornos were simply fantasies played out by actors. She totally did, but there had to be a basic reason the movies were even made and that had to be because that’s what men wanted.
It wasn’t exactly like reading a manual on how to rebuild an automatic transmission, but it was a good guide for getting what she really wanted. One night with Sin.
Taylor shivered at the thought, her nipples tightening beneath her thin bra and t–shirt. She’d fantasized about Sin for six long years, even dreamed about being the one woman who’d make him change his man whore ways but still retain that air of bad–assness, and tonight she was going to make at least one of those things happen.
The risk she was taking was enormous. They were friends. Sometimes she felt she might be his only friend. Would one night of passion change that? Possibly. But what if it didn’t? What if it enriched their friendship? Turned it into a relationship? To her way of thinking the reward outweighed the possible heartache. It had to.
“You shouldn’t be coming to a bar by yourself,” a deep, gruff voice muttered next to her.
Taylor’s heart tripped over itself before launching into its usual Sin–is–here rhythm. Which was fast as hell. Keeping her calm, or trying to, Taylor casually glanced over at Sin as he planted his perfectly sculpted ass on the stool next to her. She instantly melted, the heat rising in her body more than her muscles could manage.
He was just so…sexy. She sighed. He was grouchy because he was worried about her, but even grouchy and mumbling, he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. From the top of his shaved head to the tips of his work boots, Sin was the full package. Tall, with tattoos twisting up the roped muscles of his arms, he had the face of a thug–all harshly hewn, but with the silvery eyes of an angel and the softest looking lips she’d ever seen–but the grace of a top notch wide receiver.
Those slumberous, silver eyes were glued to Taylor’s face and she realized she’d been staring at him the way she almost always did when she saw him again after only a few hours. In other words, she was gawking at him like a teenager meeting One Direction.
She cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair so he could see the tight t–shirt she wore coupled with even tighter jeans. They were uncomfortable as all hell, but since she normally wore baggy clothes that hid her body, she wanted to show Sin she did have a figure. It was boyish because of football and softball, but she did have a few curves. Itty–bitty ones that tingled any time he was near.
But he didn’t take the bait, his gaze stayed on hers as he hailed Robbie over and ordered a beer, all without looking away from her. She was going to faint. For the first time in her life, she was going to faint and it was from heat exposure, just not the kind most athletes in south Louisiana risked from the sun. This was all Sinclair.
“What are you doing here tonight?” he asked, once he had his cold bottle in hand.
Taylor shrugged and tossed her head. Okay, that didn’t work so well since her hair was short, but it’d always worked for her older sister Devon when she was in high school. “It’s Friday night and I’m off tomorrow,” she said airily, though she heard a slight wobble to her voice. She grabbed her beer and took a swig before continuing. “And I wanted to have fun.”
Sin cocked his head to the side, studying her as though he’d never seen her before. “Are you coming down with something? Your voice sounds strange.”
Well hell, so much for her throaty, come–hither tone. Hunching her shoulders a bit, Taylor took a long pull from her beer. This was harder than she’d thought it would be. Part of her wanted to give up now before she did something stupid that had Sin either laughing at her or gaping at her in horror. But she had six years of pent up attraction and arousal pushing her onward.
And she wasn’t a quitter. Just ask any of her teammates. They didn’t call her Tenacious Taylor for nothing.
… … … … …
Sin didn’t know what was going on, but he wasn’t sure he liked it. Taylor, cute little Taylor Guillory, was eyeing him like a rack of lamb and she hadn’t eaten in weeks. It was hard enough keeping his hands off of her when she was dressed to strip a car. Seeing her in the tight shirt that outlined her small, perky tits and the skin–tight jeans clinging to her thighs was enough to make his blood pressure soar.
Working with her on cars, spending time with her when they were finished and not touching her had been hell. At first he hadn’t wanted her hanging around the shop. She was too cute, with her short blonde hair, pixie face, wide brown eyes and athletic body, and he hadn’t wanted the distraction. But when she corre
ctly diagnosed a timing malfunction on one of the cars he was working on, he’d stopped pushing her away and seen her in a different light.
When they were at the shop, he could think of her as just another mechanic. Except for those rare times when he was working across an engine with her and the neck of her coveralls gaped to show off the tight, rounded mounds of her tits. Bare of course, because she was small enough to go braless. He’d seen straight down to the tops of her white cotton panties and everything in between. Like her pale pink nipples and the small tattoo on her ribs that he wanted to trace with his tongue until it was engrained on his memory.
The first time it happened, all the blood in his body rushed south and he’d dropped a wrench on his foot. He’d had to get the hell away from there before he did something crazy like take her on the side of Mrs. Boudreaux’s Buick. But it wasn’t just her accidental flashes that got his motor revving. It was when she bent over to pick up another tool from the box she inherited from her dad, pulling the seat of her baggy coveralls tight across her ass, outlining the firm, round globes. Or when she wiped her face with the back of her hand and left a smear of grease behind. Or when she belted out the words to one of her favorite songs that played on the radio while they were working.
Every fucking thing Taylor did went straight to his dick. But Sin wasn’t a forever kind of guy and that may as well have been tattooed on her forehead in all caps. FOREVER GIRL. He didn’t have that to give her. Hell, he didn’t have that to give to anyone. At thirty–six, Sin knew himself well enough to know he needed to leave Taylor alone. He liked having her around, loved getting to know her quirky sense of humor and watching her when she played sports. But that was as far as he planned to go with anything.
If he needed sex, he hit up any number of women who flocked into the shop with pretend car problems. The encounters were short lived and fun while they lasted, but there were no hard feelings afterward. It was sex, pure and simple. Fucking for fucking’s sake with no expectations for more, because that was all he had to give.