by Frost, Sosie
“It’s hard to repay someone for a favor they didn’t ask him to do,” I said.
My friend didn’t often act like one. “I gave you a chance to get your life on track. And look at what you did with it.”
“I do my best to make sure it’s interesting.”
“You’re trashing it.”
“You know what they say,” I laughed. “One man’s trash is another man’s blackout adventure with a stripper.”
Cassi deserved better than another late night in the cold, standing in the street while police lights flickered over her frown. “Don’t pretend like you’re happy, Tidus.”
“I’m standing on my own two feet, not face first in the gutter. Might not be happy, but I’m alive.” I winked at her. “That should raise everyone’s spirits.”
I stepped away before Cassi landed her slap. A guy like me got good at reading other people, watching for that little twitch in the fingers for someone who was about to punch.
“I don’t understand you, Tidus,” she said. “What do you want?”
A little peace, a little quiet. A lot of pussy. Same as every man. Why my family believed that I had some ulterior motive, deep-seated resentment, or unfounded life plan was beyond me.
I nodded towards my garage. “Wouldn’t mind a little privacy. It’s been a long weekend.”
“That’s the last thing you need,” Cassi said. “We used to take shifts watching over Varius. Don’t tell me we need to do the same for you.”
I didn’t need the same treatment as my older brother, the once-troubled minister. Besides, Varius had made his way back to the flock. Easy to do when he was praised by day and spent his nights in the arms of a beautiful woman. No one pitied V anymore. Now they envied him.
But most people got off on that wholesome, family-oriented, redemption bullshit.
Rem had that solemn look about him now. The sort of sincerity a man only got when he was truly, insufferably happy. He patted my shoulder.
“We just want to help,” he said. “No shame in being happy, but will you find it heading in this direction?”
I scratched my eyebrow, hiding my smile. “Come on, Rem. You know life is all about the journey. Take Spencer for example. He’s about to take a trip up the river.”
Cassi groaned. “What?”
Sheriff Samson hollered as he pounded the cruiser’s driver-side window. Spencer locked the doors, settled behind the driver seat, and turned the ignition.
Cassi panicked, sprinting towards the car with Rem close behind.
“Spencer Townsend!” Her voice echoed through Butterpond. “If you steal that police car, so help me God—”
The lights flashed. He blew the siren. His voice cackled over the intercom, laughing into the night.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Cassi! I’ll drive us home!”
A kid like him had a lot to learn…unfortunately, most of his lessons would come from the back of a police car.
The ear-piercing siren blared into the night. Around the street, lights turned on and doors opened. The red and blue flashes alerted the Butterpond Neighborhood Watch, still drinking in uniform after their monthly civil war reenactment. Soldiers, gunners, and cavalry troops poured out of the local meeting house, charging with bayonets in one hand and bottles of alcohol illegally brewed within our dry county in the other.
Sheriff Samson hollered for a halt. “What in the Whistling Dixie are you men doing? You can’t be drinking that in the street! I’m gonna have to ticket the whole damned company!”
A drunken, black General Lee raised his sword. “Gentlemen! Call the retreat!”
A cornet tutted a brassy command. The Northern troops scattered into the night. Muskets dropped. A styrofoam cannon rolled back into the street. Two boys in grey whooped a rebel yell and sprinted after the Yankees.
“Someone slipped me a Viagra!” The southerner bellowed. “Tonight the South is rising again!”
Cassi pounded on the police car. “Spencer! You have until the count of three to get out here before I go Gettysburg on your behind!”
I seized an opportunity in the chaos to escape into my garage, slamming the door behind me.
I threw the lock and savored the garage’s quiet darkness. The shadows never cared where I’d gone, who I’d been with, or what I did. Got to keep to myself. Less judgement that way. When I was alone, I could just be me.
Whoever he was now.
The garage smelled of dust, not grease. Probably why I hadn’t made money in a while. I had only one customer, and she couldn’t pay. I housed her busted-up ice cream truck in a bay. It was as crowded as the garage had been in weeks. At least now I had a reason to use all the overpriced tools and equipment. Told myself it’d pay off one day. Then again, that was back when it was easy to get clients and harder to disappoint them when I was too drunk or stoned to get work done.
Now? I could’ve used a beer. Could’ve used a paying customer too.
The lights flickered on in my office.
A sexy little troublemaker sat on my desk, legs crossed, expectantly pouting. She would not be a paying customer. But, for her, I was willing to make an exception.
Honey Hudson had a voice mellow and smooth. The woman was as hot as a griddle, as sweet as cornbread, and spicy enough to burn a man alive. She was a jalapeño with the seeds. Pure capsaicin blessed with a pinch of brown sugar.
I would’ve eaten this woman up if I wasn’t certain she’d get stuck in my throat and choke me to death.
But life came with risks. It wasn’t worth living if it wasn’t worth dying.
This woman was worth both.
Honey stared at me with barbeque brown eyes, big and wide. She was the kinda girl who looked perpetually shocked. And I would do everything I could to keep her that way. I liked that look. The indignation. The curiosity.
I had a gift for reading people. Problem was, I never used it for good. I’d screw with a person if only to make them regret talking to me. Usually helped get rid of any compassionate do-gooders. Kept me on my own. Drove everyone else away.
But with Honey?
This was a woman so beautiful, so pure, so good, she’d never even been propositioned for night to be treated rough and dirty.
I’d never let a woman intimidate me before, but Honey was different.
She was a nice girl.
Honey held her ebony curls back with a bright scarf. Sunshine yellow, like every other part of her personality. Her eyes practically glittered. Her nose seemed perpetually crinkled with a laugh. And even her puffy lips were the type that always smiled.
What sort of person could be that ungodly happy?
The old me got off on being cruel. Made my own fun by prodding a person to see at what point the smiles faded and reality set in. But now? I was a changed man. Nobody believed it, but I knew it. I had no reason to ruin this woman’s happiness. But I sure as hell wished I knew what caused it.
How I could find it.
Honey sat on my desk, ankles crossed. Her long, shapely legs were wrapped in a pair of capris. This girl was too sweet, too innocent to realize how perfectly that denim wrapped over her calves, caressed her knees, and molded skintight to thighs begging to be spread. The baby doll T-shirt was another mouthwatering choice. Of course, it had some holes. Definitely a work shirt for the truck. Hell, she’d even cut the bottom of it off. Probably used it like a rag.
But what remained was a raggedy tease of material, cut over her midriff. An inch of silken, mouthwatering ebony skin peeked above the waistband of her jeans.
The woman was dark, beautiful, and had no idea how her most informal of outfits made her ball-crushingly desirable. If she’d wanted, a single word might’ve dropped a man to his knees. And he would’ve longed for that command, to worship her, to spread her legs, to share that secret and claim her every pleasure for his own.
She was a smart girl, undoubtedly. But naïve. She still thought she could get the better of me. That made her pretty dangerous, and one hell of a cha
llenge.
Unfortunately, she was still trespassing in my garage.
Honey thumbed through my papers, glancing at the few orders I had on my desk. Her eyebrow rose. She was either counting on my services are about to ruin my business.
“So,” she said. “Are you going to work on my truck or not?”
She asked the question as if it could bully me. Life hadn’t rolled me yet. A little thing like her didn’t stand a chance.
“You really think I’ll do you a favor after you break into my garage?” I asked.
“You haven’t done me any favors. You haven’t even looked at my truck yet.”
She wanted to play this game? I pulled out my wallet and tossed it at her. “Take a peek.”
Her eyebrow rose as she glanced at the license on the inside. “Wow. It’s actually yours.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
She opened the back pocket. “It’s empty.”
I offered her a priceless grin that neither of us could afford. “Will that be cash or check, Honey Hudson…or should I just call Daddy and expect his credit card?”
“What do I have to do to get you to start working?”
“Paying me would be nice. I require half down for projects this big.”
“And I might have agreed if you hadn’t already cost me two full days of business.” Honey tried to look tough. Failed. Only made me like her more. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you. Where did you go?”
“Out of town.”
“Must be nice. I’d love to get out of this town, but my truck has been locked in your garage all weekend.”
“And you could’ve stayed with me in the bed above it.” I pointed upstairs, to the hole in the wall bachelor pad that had served as my prison and sanctuary for the past three months. “Got plenty of room.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“Just waiting for the right woman.”
“And I’ve been waiting for the only mechanic,” Honey said. “I really hoped you’d be working on it by now.”
“If wishes were horses, you would’ve had a ride out of this town.”
“Do you take anything seriously?”
“Where’s the fun in being serious?” I asked.
“Fun comes later. Sometimes you gotta get serious. Like when you’re working. Trying to make a living. All the things I couldn’t do while my truck was locked in here!”
“I can’t work if you’re unable to pay me for it,” I said. “But I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.”
Honey hopped off the desk, scattering my papers.
And she said this wasn’t fun?
The more worked-up she got, the more I enjoyed it. Hell, she could have used a bit of teasing. Got the feeling Honey Hudson was a girl who never stopped smiling but very rarely laughed.
Unacceptable.
I grabbed my truck’s keys and spun them around my finger. “Wanna get out of here?”
“More than anything, but not with you.”
“Give me one reason why not.”
“Because you don’t want to go out,” she said. “You just want to get laid.”
I grinned. “At least we're on the same page.”
Now she did laugh. “We’re not even in the same book.”
“Then could I get a peek at yours?”
“You couldn’t read it. Too many words, no pictures. And definitely no centerfolds.”
“Who needs a Playboy when there’s women like you, banging down my door to meet me in the darkness?”
Honey wasn’t impressed. “You’re lucky I didn’t come after you with a hammer.”
“Can’t wait to nail me?”
She licked her puffy lips. This woman needed to be kissed. Something told me she’d never been truly teased, taken, or tormented. Girls like her thought sex was all fluffy clouds, halos, angels singing. She never once got dirty. Never once got taken by a devil.
She had no idea what she was missing.
And yet, Honey didn’t realize how dangerous this game could be. She stepped a little too close to me, inviting the heat to swirl between us. Her finger poked me in the chest. I didn’t flinch, but her touch was enough to bowl me over. Just wished she’d tumble over me too.
“You’re going to work on my truck,” she said.
“And I’m going to need a little convincing.”
“I really hoped you wouldn’t be a pig.”
“Not a pig,” I laughed. “But I am a dog. Always after a bone.”
“And you’re proud of that?” she asked.
The truth was always easier than a lie. “I’m not proud of anything I’ve ever done in my life.”
She hesitated, probably unsure of what to make of me. Wished I could’ve told her there was more to undress than for her to figure out. Man. Cock. Trouble.
I’d be her perfect mistake.
And she was every bit of good I’d always avoided.
She straightened, meeting my gaze. “Well, I am proud. I’m proud of what I do, proud of what I cook, and I’m proud of what I can accomplish. But I can’t do any of it until my truck is up and running. I need your help.”
It wasn’t my help she needed. “Why don’t you just call Daddy?”
Her lips puckered. A pout. “It’s my truck.”
“And something tells me it’s going to be his money.” I had no idea why she resisted the easiest solution, but I at least admired her resilience. If nothing else, she was extremely entertaining. “It doesn’t matter to me who pays the bill. Just call him, and I can get to work.”
I leaned closer to her, expecting her to move away.
She didn’t.
For the first time in a while, I wasn’t sure what to do. What she wanted. What she needed.
And what I was willing to take.
“Unless…” I lowered my voice. “You want to work off this bill another way.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” she sighed.
“You wouldn’t laugh.” I promised a lot, but I could deliver much more. “You might whimper. Moan. Beg. But not laugh.”
She bit her bottom lip.
Curious?
Her words tumbled in a heated rush. “You are the most vulgar man I’ve ever met.”
I reached for her hand, delighted that she allowed me to pull it to my lips. I kissed her fingers.
“But I’m not a liar,” I said. “Let me prove it to you.”
She pulled away, but not before I felt her shiver. A hot breath escaped from her parted lips. But she remained confident. Resolute.
Silently begging to be pushed over the desk, her pants drawn down, and her breasts pressed against the wood. I could deliver her nine inches of pure pleasure with a single word.
“My father closed his restaurant,” she said. The woman was bad at hiding how she felt, even worse at disguising her sorrow. “He didn’t get much for it. What little he has a supposed to be a retirement fund, but he’s got a bad back and a lot of doctors’ bills to pay. I can’t ask him for this money. It’s all on me, and I need to know if you can help fix my truck.”
Damn it. Shit like this was easier to handle when I could blame being rude on too much to drink. It’d been a long time since anyone asked for my help.
I shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“I’ll have the money to you as soon as I can.”
That wasn’t good enough. “Then I’ll need some sort of collateral.”
She arched an eyebrow. “What do you want? A bribe?”
“You can try your luck and seduce me.”
She answered a little too quickly. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Good. I’m not a patient man. I like to get right down to business.”
Honey circled me, her gaze critical, eyeing me like a piece of meat. I liked it, but the inspection would’ve been a hell of a lot better without pants.
“And here I thought you would be a hopeless romantic,” she said.
“Who says fucki
ng isn’t romantic?”
She patted the desk. “And you think I’m gonna give it up right here? Just bend over and let you ride me like an animal in heat?”
The thought had crossed my mind.
All weekend.
If a man had a good enough imagination, it could give his hand blisters and bruise his cock.
“A girl like you, Honey Hudson? You are a treat to be savored. I’d want more than a quick fuck with you in a dirty garage. Can’t get rough enough on the desk.”
This wasn’t a woman who ever thought she could be used, taken, or seduced. And so she pretended like she wasn’t, pretended that she was offended, uninterested.
Pretended like she didn’t squeeze her thighs together and squirm with every threatened word.
“A man like you should be chained up somewhere,” she warned.
I offered her my wrists. “You can try, but I always find a way to get loose. Especially when I have someone to chase.”
“You’re gonna run them legs off.”
“As long as I can spread yours.”
She crossed her arms, her nose crinkling as she smiled. “You don’t really think you have a shot with me, do you?”
“Don’t know until I take that chance.”
She nodded. “Would it help to know that you did take it, and then you blew it?”
“Good.” I gestured to my waist. “Now it’s your turn.”
To her credit, her eyes did drift lower. She traced my muscles, the tightness of the shirt over my abs, the beast trapped in my jeans. I was hard. Didn’t bother hiding it. She could either take the compliment or she could get offended.
Pretty sure she’d never seen a man with my…enthusiasm. She took a sharp breath and looked away, chuckling to herself.
“I don’t think you’re even serious,” she said.
The hardness crushing against the denim proved otherwise. “Do you need a lesson on anatomy?”
“Oh, that’s real.” She couldn’t even look at me, fixed her gaze on a crack in the ceiling and twisted her fingers into her belt loops. “But I’m pretty sure all your teasing is an act. Even if I surrendered to you right here, right now…I don’t think you’d take me.”
She played with fire.