Leather and Steel (Romance on the Go)

by Hennessee Andrews

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2013 Hennessee Andrews

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-254-8

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Cheryl Harper

  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 Fate, thank you

  LEATHER AND STEEL

  Romance on the Go

  Hennessee Andrews

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  “I’m not going to make it,” Skye whispered as she fidgeted with the air conditioning knob in the rental car. She hated rentals or any vehicle that wasn’t her own. It was always such a task to learn where everything was in a strange vehicle. It was also hot, damn hot outside, which made her frustration worse.

  The song on the radio ended and the DJ spoke. “Temps continue to rise out there in the listening area. It’s a whopping ninety-six degrees in the shade. Satan called the studio a little bit ago and said he wants his weather back. Drink lots of water and stayed hydrated out there folks.”

  Skye flipped the radio off in irritation. “I don’t need to be reminded how hot it is,” she mumbled while wiping the sweat off her brow. Her plane had landed nearly an hour ago at Tulsa International Airport in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Since that time she’d raced to the rental agency to try to get out of there with enough time to make it to the funeral. If she could have left yesterday, she wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with, but work came first and always had. Now she was fighting a losing battle against traffic and the humid Oklahoma heat.

  The GPS directed her to take the next right. Skye hadn’t been in Tulsa in nearly fifteen years. A hell of lot can change in that amount of time, she decided quickly. Nothing was the same and she struggled as she tried to make her way to the funeral home. Her best friend’s father Don had passed away after a long struggle with cancer. Skye had been very close to the family for years. Mallory, his daughter, was her best friend. Now, she wanted to be there for her and offer any kind of support she could.

  “No! Damn,” she cursed and pounded the steering wheel. A few blocks ahead, a coal train slowly lumbered through the crossing, blocking her travel. She hated to be late anywhere, funerals included. For her, being late was disrespectful, even to the dead. “Shitttttt!” she hollered and squirmed behind the wheel. “I bet we’re at the twelfth car of one-hundred-thirty.”

  She was no stranger to railroads and trains. Before she left Tulsa, she dated a railroader and knew full well that coal trains are nearly eight thousand feet long. At a snail’s pace, the train up ahead continued to move. “At this rate I’ll miss the entire funeral!” She put the vehicle into park and leaned her head back. The A/C was slowly beginning to cool her, but not near enough. Even in her short skirt and sleeveless silk top, she was sweating. She watched the coal cars and cracked her window so that she could hear their unmistakable noises.

  The steady thump and vibrations echoing off the moving rail cars soothed her like they always had. Every once in a while the screech of the flanges from the wheels rubbing against the rail took her back to a carefree time and place. Before moving away, she had a small house near a set of tracks. Every night as she lay in bed, she could hear the sounds breaking the silence. They were comforting and lulled her to sleep as if they offered protection against anything that went bump in the night. Others in her neighborhood didn’t agree as much.

  The sound also reminded her of Brock. She’d met him during her lunch hour one day. Immediately she was attracted to him when they passed each other in a restaurant. He caught her staring and sent her a heart-stopping smile. Her body pushed her forward and her mouth introduced her before rational thinking came into play.

  There was always something about a hard-working man that turned her on. Men in suits and ties never tripped her trigger. Brock? Wow, he had the entire package. She was enamored with him, even in his worn blue jeans, rugged steel-toed boots, and hard hat. His skin was sun-kissed with defined muscles stretching his T-shirt. That lunch hour was one she’d never forget, because it turned into a sexual escapade that lasted for nearly six months after.

  At the time she met Brock, she was only twenty-one and he twenty-four. Some could say she was wild, living life to fullest while planning her strategy to get out and see the world. Growing up poor hadn’t afforded her the comforts in life she’d dreamt of, so it was no wonder she worked as hard as she did to obtain her goals. Men didn’t fit in the picture. Sure, she loved them and adored sex, but she wasn’t ready for any kind of a commitment.

  The six months she spent heating up her bed with Brock was the most memorable time in her life and also the most bittersweet. When the relationship started to turn serious, she ran and ran far away. Since that time, she thought of him periodically, thinking of what might have been, sometimes wondering what lucky woman managed to catch him. She’d heard through the grapevine that, not long after she took a job in Boston, he’d transferred up north to North Dakota or somewhere equally as undesirable.

  The years passed by, but the memories were always deep in her subconscious. She compared every man she met to him, to the one she let get away. She cleared her throat and sat up. The day had already been long and now the tranquil sounds of the train were making her sleepy. Looking at her watch, she resigned herself to the fact she was going to miss the funeral, but she could at least make it to the graveside services. Mallory would just have to understand.

  Watching the cars crossing made her dizzy if she stared at them just right. The repetitious thump from a flat spot on one of the wheels invaded her mind, seducing her with its sensual rhythm. Slipping a finger under her skirt, she felt her soaked panties. Pushing the lace away, her finger dove into her wetness and her head fell back and eyes closed. The emotion of being back in Tulsa, the train and the heat drove her to touch and explore. Her pussy had swollen thinking of Brock and the times they shared. She could still accurately envision every plane of his chest and every defined muscle. She knew every dip and curve. She remembered every point on his body that drove him mad with desire.

  In return, Brock could stimulate an orgasm with a flick of his expert fingers. Her mind recreated the fire contained in his eyes and replayed his words when he brought her to the brink. “Come for me, beautiful.”

  She gasped as her fingers thrust in to tickle the spot Brock knew well. More heat flowed, coating her fingers with wetness. Thoughts of him made her body ignite into a raging inferno. A few measured strokes over her clit made her shudder with delight.

  “Mmm,” she purred as she felt a wash of relaxation spread throughout her.

  Pulling a wet wipe from her purse, she shook her head at her own behavior. She had to laugh out loud at being so bold. But that was how Brock had always made her feel, bold and sexy.

  Skye watched the lights of the crossbucks continue to flash. When she looked in the rearview mirror, she noted a long line of traffic sitting idle behind her. The end of the train cleared the crossing, revealing an open stretch of road ahead. The gates rose and the lights stopped blinking. Cars and trucks begun to inch forward with the occupants ready to continue their journey. Skye’s cell rang and she searched through her purse with one hand while keeping her eyes
on the road. She pulled it out and answered. “Hello?”

  “Skye, where are the files for the Martin project?” Renee asked.

  “They should be saved under Martin, Renee.”

  “Well, they’re not and Angela is freaking out. We have a three o’clock appointment with them. We can’t afford to lose this project,” Renee squealed through the phone, making Skye’s ears ring.

  “I know, I know. Shit. How would I have saved them?” Skye began driving slowly as the traffic started to move. “Look under their first names. I may have accidently saved them that way.”

  Doubt and irritation had returned. Skye had worked on this project for the last month and a lot was riding on it.

  “Skye, it isn’t here!” Renee shouted.

  Skye wasn’t paying attention and struck a large hole while driving over the railroad crossing, dropping her phone. “Hang on, Renee!” An orange railroad truck sat up ahead on the right and just past it looked like a good place for her to stop and retrieve her phone.

  A man wearing tight blue jeans, a tool belt and a hard hat walked around the truck. Skye stared.

  In that moment, Skye looked up to see that the car in front of her had stopped abruptly. Her brakes screeched as she tried to stop. Bam! She smacked into the back of the red sports car, crumpling up the bumper.

  “Damn it!” she shouted and began to cry. She wasn’t hurt and doubted the other driver was either. They were only moving at about ten miles per hour after crossing the bumpy railroad tracks, but the damage made it look worse.

  Skye pulled over to park and picked up her cell. “Renee, I got to go.”

  She clicked the phone off and watched the occupant of the vehicle step out. It was a man and he didn’t look happy, at all. Brock walked around to her window and pecked on the glass. She was mortified and hated to roll the window down. Just minutes earlier she’d masturbated to his image. He knocked again. She pulled her face from her hands and pushed the button to roll the window down, allowing the hot outside air to flood into the car.

  “Are you all right, miss?” Brock asked with a worried expression on his face.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Skye pulled off her sunglasses.

  “Skye?” Brock said like he was seeing a ghost.

  “You better have some damn good insurance, lady.” A man’s voice boomed behind Brock.

  Brock straightened and turned to face him. “Back off. It was an accident. We’ll take care of it,” he grumbled before he turned his attention back to her and opened the door. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Skye got out and nodded. “I think I’m more embarrassed than anything.”

  Mr. Happy stood with his arms crossed, staring a hole into her. “This is your fault. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, and I’m very sorry,” she apologized. Her stomach was tied up in knots while her heart thundered erratically in her chest. Seeing Brock again awakened the desire she’d held for him all these years yet denied. After a string of crummy relationships, she’d been single for the last nine months, afraid to take another chance. Now the once-ignored regions of her body flooded with anticipation.

  “I said back off,” Brock replied to the man with hate swirling in his dark brown eyes.

  God, he was gorgeous and the years only seemed to enhance his features, making him even more irresistible now. Her traitorous body trembled and her panties became wetter. Now was not the time to revisit the past and recall memories of extremely hot nights where Brock was the star attraction.

  Brock put his arm around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. He was hot and sweaty, but she didn’t care. It was wonderful to be in his arms again. He chuckled and she looked up at him. “What’s so funny?”

  “Fate,” he simply replied with an intense gaze.

  Within minutes a police officer pulled up with his lights flashing, interrupting the silent moment between them. Mr. Happy must have called. Skye groaned.

  The officer took the report while he asked questions, jotting down pertinent information along the way. The process didn’t take long since it was obvious who was at fault. He issued her a ticket and gave Mr. Happy her insurance information.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Mr. Happy grumbled and walked off toward his car.

  The officer walked away as well, leaving Skye alone with Brock.

  “Poor girl. Come on. I’m stuck waiting on track and time to work on this crossing for a while and it’s lunchtime.”

  “I can’t, Brock,” Skye protested.

  “Why not?” Brock stopped, giving her a confused look.

  “I’m on my way to a funeral,” she replied and looked at her watch. “Well, I’ve basically missed the funeral, but if I hurry I can make it to the graveside service.”

  “Oh, I should have known you were back in town for a reason.” He looked away.

  “Yeah, I am.” Skye could see the hurt in his eyes when he turned back toward her. “But I’d like to see you later. I mean, if that’s okay.” She searched his hand for an indication of a ring before remembering railroaders weren’t allowed to wear jewelry, including wedding bands. “Unless, of course, there’s someone at home waiting for you.”

  Brock shook his head. “No, there’s no Mrs.”

  Skye’s heart leapt into her throat. She had been sure for so many years that he had found a woman and hated that it wasn’t her. “So, um,” she paused for a moment. “Would you be available later tonight?”

  Brock nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be available later.”

  His gaze heated her more than the midafternoon sun. He was breathtaking and sinfully hot in his railroad gear. Desire trickled down her thigh as a new wave of perspiration beaded over her chest. So many years had gone by, but her feelings for him were the same. “I-I got to go,” she stuttered, unable to take her eyes off his muscular body and wicked smile.

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Skye slid into the seat, hating that she had to leave, but knowing if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to control herself. Brock emitted a strange pheromone that sucked her in and made her mind crazy with lust. Rational thinking took a backseat when he was near her and the years apart didn’t change the fact. All she wanted was to feel him between her thighs, pleasuring her completely in the way only he knew how. “I need your number,” she said as she dug through her purse for a pen and paper.

  Brock ripped a piece of paper off a pad and handed it to her.

  “Thanks.” She glanced up to meet his eyes. They were filled with amusement. No doubt because she was acting like a hair-brained idiot. Until today she’d never had a single accident or ticket. Today she managed to accomplish both feats at once.

  “You better get going,” Brock reminded her with a mischievous grin.

  Skye nodded. “I’ll call you later.”

  ****

  Brock watched as Skye sped away. It was as if time had stood still and his feelings for her were as strong as ever. The pain she had created when she left without a word was also still there, lodged deep in his gut. Years ago, he had sworn he’d never forgive her. “Time heals all wounds” came to mind, and for him, it was only partially true. In reality, his heart had never forgotten her, and the wounds seemed fresh again. He blamed his memories of her for his failed marriage, a marriage that lasted only two years. His ex had always accused him of being in love with Skye even as he denied it. The strain was too much to overcome and they made the decision to end it all so they could both go on with their lives. His ex had successfully moved on and within a year remarried. Now she had two children. He, on the other hand, had nothing but a failed relationship in his wake.

  The truth of the matter was simple. No one compared to Skye, never had or ever would. The passion couldn’t be recreated. The desire was never as hot. He’d considered the fact that they were young and wild, enjoying a relationship that was built on nothing more than sex. Incredible sex, but underneath it all, Brock had fallen for her. Skye, on the other hand, was able to pi
ck up and walk away. He felt the rejection somehow mentally messed him up for any future women. Whatever it was about Skye Erikson, it was strong and held him and his heart with a force unmatched by any other female.

  The dispatcher called him and he immediately answered. He finally got his window to work on the repairs at the crossing. Now, more than ever, he needed to keep his hands and mind busy. Thinking of Skye was a one-way street to misery.

  Chapter Two

  The graveside service was short and Skye hugged her friend. “I’m so sorry, Mallory.”

  Mallory sniffled. “He went in peace, Skye. He wanted it this way.” Her father had had a long, excruciating battle with prostate cancer that left him weak in the end. On more than one occasion, she said she prayed for the pain to stop and allow his soul freedom from it.

  Skye had kept in close contact with Mallory since she moved away and the pair had vacationed together until Mallory got married a few years back. Skye still regretted not making it to the wedding, but as usual, something at work kept her from it. She wondered, if she had known Brock was back in Tulsa, if she’d have tried harder to get the time off to visit. Pushing thoughts of Brock out, she tried to concentrate on comforting her friend. “He was good man and a good father.”

  “I’m glad you made it. I’ve really missed you,” Mallory admitted.

  “I’m sorry I was late. I, uh, had a fender bender on the way here,” Skye confessed.

  Mallory leaned back and studied her. “Are you okay?”

  Skye brushed the wet tendrils of her hair that clung to her face back. “Yeah, I wasn’t going very fast, thank goodness.”

  “What happened?”

  Skye blushed, embarrassed over how it happened. “I rear-ended a guy,” she admitted and smacked her forehead.