Better When He's Bad
Page 44

“Hey. What are you doing here?” I saw his eyes sweep over me from head to toe. My legs were bare under the hem of his hoodie where it hit me at midthigh. One of his dark eyebrows danced upward and the corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin.
I cocked my head to the side and lifted an eyebrow back at him. “What’s up with the used-car lot over there? Those aren’t your usual flavor.”
His gaze skated over the line of cars and he sighed. “You want the truth or you want me to lie to you?”
I rolled my eyes at him and stood on my tiptoes so I could wind my arms around his neck. His big hands settled on my h*ps and he pulled me so I was cradled between his legs where he was leaning against the car.
“Truth.”
“People who gamble don’t think. They throw money around, take risks, and don’t have long-term plans. The only way gambling works is if the person has something to lose. Race is playing a pretty dangerous game, but he’s smart. Way smarter than Novak ever was. Dead men can’t pay debts, broken men can’t go to work, but take a guy’s ride and he knows you’re serious. Pay up or your car goes bye-bye. Those are the cars waiting for their owners to pay up.”
“And those cars got here how, exactly?”
He grinned down at me now, mischief sparking in the center of his obsidian-tinted gaze.
“Just consider me a repo man of sorts. I didn’t steal them to chop them up. I just borrowed them to help your brother out.”
“And if the owners don’t pay up?”
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law. So far everybody wins.”
“Until someone turns you in.”
“The Point doesn’t work like that, Copper-Top. Bad places have bad people and bad people have bad vices. Race is taking a risk, but he’s filling a need that was always gonna be there. I’ll keep an eye on it, Titus isn’t stupid and isn’t going to let it get out of hand, but for now it’s working and let’s just leave it at that. Now, why don’t you tell me why you are in the garage, half naked, looking all shiny-eyed and happy?”
I pressed my mouth to his, made him let me tangle my tongue with his, and used my leverage to press even closer to him. I would never get over how solid and sturdy he felt against me. His fingers tangled in the ends of my hair and I heard him sigh softly against my now damp mouth.
“I got offered a promotion at the group home today. A great job that will let me really help the kids, more money, and no more weekends away. I wanted to celebrate, so really I wanted you.”
He nodded his head at me and I squealed a little in surprise when he bent and picked me up. I curled my legs around his waist and leaned against him as he started to walk toward the office at the back of the garage.
“That’s awesome, Copper-Top. Congratulations. You really were born to make a difference for those who need you.”
“Where are you taking me?” I decided to nuzzle the curve of his neck, happy that he shivered a little in response.
“I put more cameras in this place than all of London has. There isn’t a corner of the lot or the building not on a live camera feed. Normally a little show-and-tell wouldn’t bother me, but considering your brother has all the access codes, I doubt that’s a show he wants to see, especially if you don’t have anything on under this sweatshirt. The office is the only place not wired up.”
I appreciated his consideration, because what I had in mind most definitely didn’t need my brother’s or anyone else’s input.
The heavy metal door closed behind us with a clang and Bax wasted no time pressing me up against it and working the zipper on the front of his hoodie down. His dark gaze glowed at me and the way his throat worked up and down made me think this was possibly one of my most brilliant ideas ever.
“I couldn’t do just the hoodie and nothing else. That’s just too bad for me.”
He chuckled a little and bent down to kiss me softly on the mouth. It made me sigh, and the way he worked his hands up over the edge of my ribs made me gasp out loud.
“Dovie, you’re my girl. Nothing is too bad for you.”
That made me laugh, which quickly turned into a groan, and he had the heavy material off of my shoulders and the tank top off of me in a few twisting, flexing moves. I tugged at his T-shirt until it cleared the top of his head and we were pressed together, chest to chest, our hearts beating the same excited, aroused rhythm. My ni**les pebbled up in eager anticipation and my legs tensed automatically around his waist. He dropped his head and ran his tongue along the raised ridge of my scar. He did that every time we were together like this. I wasn’t sure if it was to make sure I knew it didn’t take away from how beautiful he found me, or if he was trying to take the memory away. Either way, I always liked it and it made me rake my hands along his cap of short hair.
“I like these.” His fingers dipped inside the leg of the panties I had put on. I shivered at the gentle touch.
I kissed the star on his face and used my teeth on the lobe of his ear. “I like you.”
He laughed, something he was getting slightly better at. “Good to know.”
Then there was no more room for joking or thought, because his fingers went from outside my panties to inside, and all I could do was feel. He was just so intent, so focused, and read my body so easily. He touched me just right, had me gasping his name and shamelessly grinding between his hard body and the door in seconds. I was greedy, wet, and desperate for him. I locked my ankles over the top off his ass and let my head thunk back against the door. My eyes went half-mast, and I watched him watch me as he wound me up.
My inner walls pulled at his talented fingers, my legs quivered around him, and by the time he relented and roughly swiped his thumb over my clit, there was no holding back the flood of release he had unleashed. I leaned forward and sealed my mouth over his, told him I loved him, and tried not to slide down the door as he used his free hand to tenderly stroke and caress the tip of one breast. He always did that, got me off, tore me up, and then turned sweet and gentle until he was ready to push me past all my limits again. I didn’t even protest when he ripped the panties out of his way, even though that meant I was going home bare-assed under his hoodie.
“My fantasy. You in a hoodie and nothing else. You really are something special, Dovie. I don’t know what the point would be without you.” I didn’t know if he was talking about the place or the point of us, but I guess either fit.
I kissed along his collarbone. Worked happy hands between us so I could get his belt open and free the part of him that I needed. He was so hot and hard in my hands, so ready, always so ready for me. I stroked the length up and down, watched his eyes go even darker, and saw the pulse in his neck start to get erratic.
“You are something special too, Shane. Don’t ever forget I know that.”
He groaned when I squeezed the head and tilted my pelvis up so that just the tip of him hit my entrance. We both stilled just a little at the contact, but as always, it was perfect. He half sank in, half let me pull him in, and the next thing I knew, we were sliding, moving, thrusting, and grinding all kinds of hot and heavy against the door to his office. It wasn’t graceful or pretty. In fact, I think I lost a chunk of hair in the hinge of the door. But it was raw, it was spontaneous, and he always made it feel special.
He groaned my name into the bend of my neck when he came, dug his fingers into my hips, and I clamped down on him and tossed my head from side to side as the second wave of pleasure overtook me. When it was over we sort of folded in on each other, and I ended up straddling him on the floor while he collapsed on his back still buried inside of me. He sighed and ran his hands over the still-trembling skin of my thighs. I put both hands on his chest and leaned down so our faces were almost touching, my hair a fiery curtain around us.
“I love you, Shane Baxter.”
“I love you, Dovie Pryce.”
He didn’t say it often, so when he did, it always mattered a little more.
“And I love it when you call me Shane right before I get you off . . . every single time.”
That made me laugh, which made me lean down and kiss him some more, which led to him getting hard again, which led to some more uncomfortable garage sex, this time on the floor of the office.
There were two parts to all of us, things that made us who we were, showed where we came from. I liked to think my parts were equally divided between good and bad, where Bax’s were bad mixed with a little more bad. But somewhere inside him Shane lurked, and Shane had just enough good to make me think we had forever. Or at least as long as a place like the Point was going to give us, and at the end of the day, I was happy with that, as long as it had me and him together.
Better When He’s Bold . . . Race’s story coming soon . . .