There were several vehicles in the shop that they were working on, and she took her time checking them out, almost forgetting the man standing behind her. Almost. Her nerves had settled at least. The more he talked about what they did, the more she saw the passion he had for this business. He loved his job as much as she did. The staff he employed wasn’t just there to collect a paycheck every week but because this is what they wanted to do, and it showed in the beautiful cars they produced.
Rusty inspected the Buick in front of her, ran her hand over the smooth hood, and stood back, crossing her arms. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit it… You don’t completely suck.”
His low chuckle slid between her shoulder blades and made her knees a little weak. “That hurt?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She turned to face him, and the belly flutters returned full force when she saw him standing there, legs braced apart, heavily inked arms crossed over that impressive chest—and yep, there it was, the heat. It was back and aimed at her.
“Anything else you want me to show you?” The way he said it made it clear he didn’t just mean an extended tour of his shop.
“I think I’m good.” She turned away and scanned the huge workshop, looking for anything to get them back to business, because no matter how much her body wanted him, her brain wasn’t fully on board.
Anyway, she couldn’t be blamed for her body’s mutiny. The guy was a freak of nature. No one was that hot.
Heading for the rows of tires, wheels, and other car parts they had stacked to one side of the room, she made a show of checking it out, all the while trying to get her racing heart under control, not to mention her overheating body. She bent down between two rows and took a closer look at the parts they kept stocked.
When she felt she had it somewhat together, she brushed off her hands and turned—“Right, I guess I’ll…Oomph.”—and collided with a hard, hot chest.
Big, warm hands settled on her hips, steadying her. “Careful,” he murmured.
“Sorry, I, ah…” Whatever she was about to say got lodged in her throat when the fingers circling either side of her waist gave her a gentle squeeze.
He dipped his chin, looking down at her. “Grease looks good on you, but I like this, too.” His gaze moved over her, from head to toe, then locked with hers. “You dress up nice for anyone in particular?”
Oh God. Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely catch her breath. There was no way he couldn’t see it. His hands were still on her hips, his body almost flush with hers, and when she tried to retreat that grip got tighter, deliciously so, holding her in place, keeping her where he wanted her. “Yes…ah, no…” Goddammit. The man fried her brain, turned her into an illiterate, horny mess.
“Yes or no? Which is it?”
“Uh, yeah? I’m…I’m, ah, going on a date…after.” She cringed inwardly. A date? She didn’t date, hadn’t in years. Yeah, she’d had the odd dinner here and there, but ultimately she’d left each one of them with the same conclusion: men were jerks. Now she never dated. Ever.
Those pale eyes darkened. “A date?”
“Yep. So I better…” She tried again to take a step back, and again he wasn’t having any of it.
“You and this guy, you serious?”
“Well, we’re…um, well, it’s like…”
“It’s not a difficult question. You are or you aren’t?”
“Aren’t?”
He laughed, a deep rumbling laugh that somehow brought her closer, so close her hard nipples grazed his chest and sent delicious sparks of pleasure down between her thighs.
The laughter cut off abruptly at the contact, and he sucked in a breath. “I’d say, if you have to think about it, it’s not serious. Which means you’re fair game, far as I can see.” Then one of his hands left her hip and went to her hair. “You’ve got fuckin’ amazing hair, but I’m guessing you know that since you’ve left it down. You do that for this date you’re going on?”
He was close now, her body plastered against his, his heat burning her up, and before she could stop herself, before she could think of all the reasons why being honest was the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas, she shook her head no.
His nostrils flared, and he dipped his head a little closer. “No?”
“No,” she whispered.
“What about the clothes? They for this date of yours as well?”
She shook her head again.
What the hell are you doing?
“This all for me, Rusty?”
Electricity sparked between them, firing her blood, scrambling her brain. She clung to his heavy biceps, wanting, needing like she never had before, and that’s why, instead of denying it, she nodded and whispered, “Yeah.”
He wrapped her hair around his fist and tilted her head back in a way that told her just how much he liked her hair. The way he handled her, gentle but sure, also sent her a message that Reid Parker was a man who got what he wanted, and when he did, he called the shots. This didn’t come as a great surprise, but what was, was that she liked it. A lot.
She’d always had to be the strong one, the one who held it all together, and right then, she didn’t need to be. Reid had complete control of the situation, of her, and it did something to her, made her feel things she hadn’t known existed inside her.
She could just let go, let someone else take charge for once. It was intoxicating.
He dipped his head farther, closing the space between them—then his mouth was on hers. His fingers stayed in her hair, bodies flush as he kissed her, softly at first, then he slid his tongue across her top lip, sucked and nipped it gently, then said, “Open.”
She did, and he slanted his mouth over hers and proceeded to devour her. His tongue moved with hers, kissing her deep, not hard, but in a way that gave her no choice but to follow his lead. The guy could kiss, not that she had a lot of experience, okay, barely any, but she didn’t need to be a kissing expert to recognize the guy had skills. She felt it down to her toes.
He had her clinging to him, as if he was some kind of lifeline, rubbing up against him like she couldn’t get enough. And she couldn’t. If he’d had a mind to yank down her shorts and fuck her against the rack of tires at her back, she didn’t think she would have stopped him.
He took his mouth away and kissed her jaw, her throat. “So fucking sweet, so hot.” His lips moved to her ear. “Never known a woman as gorgeous as you.”
To most women a compliment about the way she looked from a man like Reid would have had them dropping their panties—but for Rusty, it was a double-handed shove, yanking her out of her lust-induced haze. Is that the only reason he was kissing her right now? Because of the way she looked?
Wise up. Of course it is.
She shoved his shoulders, and he finally, after a second shove, released her. “Rusty?”
“Why’d you ask me here?” She knew she was sending mixed signals, acting crazy, but she couldn’t stop the ugly feeling in the pit of her stomach, couldn’t escape the doubt that was always there, hovering just below the surface. God, she was messed up.
He let her go and gripped the racks on either side of her, effectively caging her in. “What’s going on?”
“Cut the shit and tell me why you really asked me here, Parker.”
He shook his head, breathing heavily. “Where the hell’s this coming from?”
“Tell me,” she demanded, suddenly pissed, and not just at him but at herself for being so damn stupid. He barely knew her, and by the looks of it, that was just fine with him. He hadn’t intended on going any deeper than what was under her shorts.