I pour a bit more into mine and place the bottle on the coffee table. “What else did you have in mind for your vacation?”
She smiles and fuck, she’s even hotter when she doesn’t look like she wants to hurt me. “I’ve only got two days off work, but I intend on sleeping late, getting drunk and relaxing.”
“Alone?”
“Yep,” she says, sipping her drink.
“No boyfriend?” I ask.
She glances down, rubbing her finger along the edge of the glass. “Nosey bastard aren’t you?”
No boyfriend. “Just trying to get to know you,” I say, lifting my shoulders.
She rolls her bright green eyes and puts her glass down. “Not much to know. No, no boyfriend. I’m a nurse’s aide at Fuller’s Nursing Home. I live with my best friend. What about you?”
“No boyfriend for me either,” I joke.
She laughs and I can see her getting more comfortable with me. I’m not sure it’s a good thing considering my thoughts are leaning toward seeing her in her nurse’s uniform.
“Come on. I just told you stuff, give me something,” she pleads, jutting her lip out and all.
“Fine. I’m moving back here and if you’re okay with it, I’d like to stay here until my place is ready,” I say. Maybe it’ll be more fun to stay here instead of the hotel down the road.
“As long as you don’t intrude on my vacation, I guess it’s alright.”
I get up and cage her in once again, but slowly this time. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, seductively, giving her a half grin. Standing up, I notice the flushed look on her face and I’d be willing to bet her pulse is racing.
I’m not sure it’s something I should entertain, but the fucking thought of her being my stepsister makes it all that much hotter. Giving a whole new meaning to the excitement of getting caught.
Buy Link
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Wrecked
By Luke Prescott
Wrecked
Copyright © 2017 Luke Prescott
Cover Design: Bite Me Graphic Design
Editor: Devilish Desires
Formatting: Devilish Desires
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Prologue
───────────────
Too many shots of whiskey. My head’s all over the place. A long day, followed by a longer night.
Headlights blind me. A horn blares. Jerking the wheel, I spin to a stop.
The deafening sound of tires squealing, metal twisting, and glass smashing fill my ears. Then quiet. Suddenly, stone sober, my heavy breathing is the only sound.
What the hell did I do?
My heart pounds as I jump out and race over to the SUV wrapped around the stout trunk of an oak. Fear brings me to a stop. An arm dangles from the passenger door. The driver stares back at me, twisted and mangled against the airbag. Nothing can be done. No one is alive.
Blood. Smoke. Silence.
I’m not taking the blame for this. No way. I’ve got too much to lose.
Climbing back into the car, I do the only thing that makes sense. The only thing I can to protect myself. I flee.
I flee the wreckage, never looking back.
Chapter One
───────────────
Asher
Tightening the last bolt on the alternator, I lay the wrench down and pick up the already grease-filled rag to wipe my hands. It’s Friday, and I’m ready to get the hell out of this car shop.
Brett leans his burly ass on the Jeep Liberty I just replaced the alternator on. “You want to go have some fun tonight?” he asks. His black hair falls into his eyes, as he crosses his muscular tattooed arms.
Grinning, I turn my head. “If hitting the bar and finding some chicks is what you have in mind, then I'm game.”
“Exactly what I have in mind. You ready to get out of here?”
Wiping the sweat off my face with my shirt, I shake my head. “I need to wait until this chick comes to pick up her Jeep. I’ll meet you at the bar.”
Everyone, including Robert, my boss, leaves, while I’m stuck waiting on this woman, which pisses me off. I have Jack Daniels and pussy waiting for me. Running my hand through my hair, I go into the office and get her paperwork and keys ready. The faster I get her out of here, the faster my night can start.
“Hello?” a soft sultry voice calls.
Damn, finally. I make my way down the small hallway from the office and meet her in the garage. With everyone gone, the concrete walls echo with every step I take. She’s leaning on my red Snap-On tool box, which irritates me. No one touches my tools or my box, it’s a respect thing in the garage. None of us do it. I need her out of here.
“Hey, Miss...” I glance down at the paperwork to get her name, “Stevens. I replaced your alternator and battery, also topped off your fluids. You should have no problems now,” I say, handing her the paperwork.
“Stacey,” she corrects, dropping the papers on the hood, as she moves closer to me. Her brown eyes track over my navy mechanics shirt.
Lifting an eyebrow, I lean against the driver’s side door. “I’m sorry?”
“You don’t need to call me Miss Stevens. My name is Stacey.” A seductive smile pulls at her full lips.
My eyes run up and down her body, and I realize how fucking hot she is. If she bends over in those little black shorts, I’m sure her round ass will be on full display for me. Her full tits spill out of her low-cut pink tank top, and suddenly I’m not so pissed she waited to show up until everyone was gone.
“Alright, Stacey, I just need you to sign the paperwork since you already paid and we can both get on with our Friday night.”
Moving a few steps closer, she places her tiny hand on my arm. “Am I holding you up from something, Mr...” she trails off, smiling up at me.
“No mister, just Asher. And yeah, you are, Stacey. I’ve got a drink and some ladies waiting on me,” I say, grinning.
“I’m sorry to have held you up, Asher.” Slowly, her hand travels to my chest and works its way down. Slender fingers grip onto the waist of my jeans and she bites her lip looking up at me. “I can make it up to you.”
This isn't anything new. You'd be surprised how many women are ready to pull their panties down when they pick up their car. But her confidence makes her sexier, and I slightly tilt my head. “How exactly would you like to do that Stacey?”
Unbuttoning my jeans, she smiles at me. “I have an idea.”
My cock is already hard when she drops to her knees in front of me. Pulling down my zipper, she frees my cock and wraps her hand around it, slowly pumping. When she licks the tip, it takes all my willpower not to thrust my hips forward. Gripping her long blonde hair, I pull her head closer to my dick.
She wraps her lips around my cock and starts sucking like a damn pro. It feels so good, but the need to fuck her mouth is intense. Tightening my hold on her hair, I thrust my hips forward and son of a bitch, she just takes it.
Her fingers dig into my legs through my jeans, and she keeps moaning. It’s hot and I can’t help but let my eyes drift closed. She continues to suck me, taking me to the back of her throat each time. When she lets out a loud moan, I open my eyes, looking down at her on her knees before me.
Lifting my eyes, I almost stop when I see another chick st
anding there, watching. Not watching in disgust, watching like this is the hottest thing she’s ever seen. She's beautiful. Long legs accented by red heels, brown hair cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders, and big eyes that take in each push and pull of my cock into Stacey’s mouth. I can’t look away from her captivating blue eyes. So, I fuck Stacey’s red lips, while fantasizing it’s the soft, pink lips of the girl standing by the door.
“Fuck, you like this, don’t you?” I ask blue eyes. Stacey moans thinking I’m talking to her.
Blue eyes doesn’t answer, doesn’t even nod, but she never pulls her eyes away. I’m willing to bet her panties are fucking soaked just from watching, and I don’t intend to disappoint. Pumping my hips, I fuck Stacey’s mouth like it’s blue eyes’ wet pussy. As if she knows, she lets out a soft moan, biting her lip after. I’m not going to last much longer. I can feel myself almost there.
“I’m going to come, and I want you to fucking take it all,” I grunt out.
Stacey moans once more, and that’s all it takes. I explode in her mouth, and she takes every drop I have to give. I don’t break my focus on blue eyes, even as I come down Stacey’s throat. When I’m done, she slowly pulls off my cock, and I momentarily look down at her. She’s smiling, and I give her a little half-grin.
“I hope that makes up for me being late,” she says, licking her lips.
When I look up, blue eyes is gone, and I wonder if she was ever really there. Smiling down at Stacey, I help her up. “That more than makes up for it.” I tuck myself away and button my jeans. “Here’s your keys and paperwork,” I say, grabbing it all off the hood. “If you have any more problems, make sure to give us a call,”
“Oh, right, okay,” she says, looking disappointed.
I'm sure she thinks I'm an asshole, but she can’t honestly think this was anything more than a blow job. Without a word, she climbs into her jeep. I watch her back out of the garage and take a second to look around for blue eyes.
No one is here, so she either left or was one hell of a fucking fantasy. Either way, I’m not about to think too much on it, I have a bottle of Jack waiting for me.
Chapter Two
───────────────
Payton
I readjust the thin straps on my red sundress and dab a bit of clear gloss on my lips. Don't want to overdo it on my first day. Working for my father should be easy. How hard is ordering parts? My heels click against the tile floor of my apartment to grab my purse, and then I head down to the shop.
I breathe in the fresh Long Island summer air and smile. My new home that I’ve lived in for about a month or so. This tiny New York town is perfect for me. After living on the west coast most of my life, it’s a long overdue change.
When I arrive at the shop, the smell of oil and sweat greets me. I glance around for the man I saw last night when I dropped my car off to be fixed. Not expecting to see that when I came to the shop. At all. Who does that? Wonder what my father would think to know his employees are busy getting favors from his clients. But, I’d never say a word. Nope my lips are sealed. To each his own.
My dad looks up from behind the counter and frowns. “Payton, you should've worn jeans.”
I shake my head and walk over to kiss his cheek. “I think there's enough testosterone in here.”
“It's a garage not a fashion show,” he says, leading me down a hallway to the office.
“Well this place could use a woman’s touch,” I tell him. I already know that customer service counter needs some fresh flowers. It's boring and drab.
“Fire up the computer,” he says, shaking his head. “I'll be back in a few to get you started.”
The leather chair let's out a squeak when I sit down. I survey the office. How do people work like this? It's four white walls, one with a time clock, a desk, two leather chairs and a trash can. This room needs some life if I'm going to be spending eight hours a day here. I pull the daisy covered pen holder from my purse and set it on the oak desk. It's a start.
As I’m booting up the computer, the door creaks open.
“Who are you?” a husky voice asks.
I swivel around. “Payton.” I look up and my heart slams against my chest. It’s him—blowjob guy. He seems taller, but maybe that's because he's not hunched over shoving his dick down someone's throat. He's hot; I'll give him that. Brown hair all over the place, green eyes full of mischief, and a body that clearly shows he visits the gym often.
Unable to stop it, my cheeks warm.
“You work here?” he asks.
“Yes.” We both gawk at each other while the air in this stuffy office fills with awkwardness. “My dad owns the place.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Oh fuck,” he mumbles under his breath. “About last night, I don’t normally do that at work.”
“It’s fine.” I want the conversation to end. How uncomfortable. I squeeze my thighs together at the thought of it. Cause if I'm being honest, it turned me on.
And I’m not that type of girl. It’s like something else took over, and I stood frozen in place, watching.
The man in my office takes a deep breath. “The name’s Asher.”
I don’t care, do I?
“Nice to meet you. I’m Payton,” I say in a tiny voice. Why am I nervous?
His eyes rake over my body, heating it up. Actually, it’s like it sets it on fire or something.
I shake my head, regaining control of this situation.
“You know what, don’t let it happen again, or I’ll tell my father,” I say. God, I sound like a narc or a goody-goody.
His lip lifts at the one corner. “You wouldn’t want that to happen again with anyone else, would you? Just you, right?”
I sit up straighter in my chair. “Uh, no, that’s not what I meant.”
He nods, moving closer. “I think it’s exactly what you meant.”
Asshole. I wish he’d leave. I need a moment of silence to think about all of these raging emotions I have...well, raging.
“Can you please get back to work?” I tap at the keys of the computer, letting him know this conversation is over.
His steel-toe boots step closer, and he leans in close to my ear. “I won’t let anyone near my dick unless she’s got lips like yours.”
Now that’s done it. My insides burst into flames. I don’t know if it’s from anger or arousal. Either way, he needs to get the hell out of here. So arrogant.
I look up at him. “Are you always this...cocky?”
“Asher, I see you met my daughter,” my father’s loud voice barks out.
The way he says daughter makes me cringe, like an elementary teacher’s notes they’d send home.
Asher snaps his head to my father, before whipping it back to me, searching my face. He narrows his eyes at me and steps away. “Yes, we’re just getting to know each other,” he says, patting my father’s shoulder on his way out.
“Payton, come here,” my father motions. “Let me introduce you around.” We walk into the garage where guys are busy under the hood of a car or under a car on the lift and he stops, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Guys, this is my daughter, Payton. She’ll be working in the office, so no reason to bother her,” my dad says.
The whir of tools and clatter of all things mechanic stops. I don’t want to look around because I know he's in this group of men staring at me. If I could keep my focus on the oil stained concrete floor, that would be great, but it’s impossible. My eyes immediately crash into the green eyes of Asher.
He lifts one side of his mouth in a grin, and I ignore him and give a little wave to the guys. After a few minutes, I turn to go as my dad continues to talk.
The morning flies by as my dad teaches me his way of doing things. Answering the phone, filing, ordering parts, it’s all so boring, which is something I’m not used to. I like a challenge, but I know I’m not going to find that here.
“Pizza’s in the back room. Go take your break,” my dad
says, reading over some paperwork as he walks past me.
Walking into the back room, I’m relieved that it’s empty. And when I say empty, I mean empty. There is a table with four blue backed chairs, a fridge, and a microwave. A counter runs along the wall beside the fridge and it's empty. No cookie jar, no basket for silverware, just a few paper napkins. I'll have to fix that.
I grab a slice of pepperoni pizza and sit down at the small, metal table. Taking a bite, I moan at how good New York pizza is. When my parents divorced, I’d spend the summers with my father. One of my favorite things in the world is when he would take me into Manhattan to get a pie. Once I hit my teens, my trips here grew further and further apart. I forgot how much I missed being here. Being around him.
“Sounds familiar,” a deep voice says.
Swallowing a few times to wet my suddenly dry throat, I take a breath.
“Your weekend must’ve sucked if that’s what you remember,” I say, biting into my pizza.
He sits down across from me, grinning. “Such a smartass, I like that. But the sucking was only the beginning of my weekend.”
“From what I saw, it doesn’t look like you’re too picky about what you like or how bad it sucked,” I say, lifting my shoulders.
He laughs. “Sweetheart, you enjoyed watching so much I’m willing to bet you haven’t been fucked in a long time.”
What a jerk. A muscular, sexy as fuck, asshole, who is absolutely right. Flipping my brown hair over my shoulder, I put my elbow on the table and rest my chin on my hand. “I’m not your sweetheart, and my sex life is none of your business.”
“What the fuck?” my father booms out. “Asher, I assumed you liked your job.”
He closes his bright eyes briefly as my father moves closer to the metal table.
“Dad, relax. We were talking about a movie, quoting lines from it. Stop jumping to conclusions, Asher has been nothing but a gentleman,” I say, smiling at Asher when I’m finished.
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