Good Girl Gone Plaid (9 page)

She fully expected him to let her go and answer the door, but instead he slipped a finger beneath her panties and didn’t even hesitate before he thrust it inside her body.

“Ian.” She gave a strangled whisper of protest, and then bit her lip hard enough to nearly draw blood so she wouldn’t cry out in pleasure.

“Tell them to go the fuck away. I’m busy.”

A knowing smile crossed his face, and he moved his finger higher, before locating her clit with ridiculous accuracy.

“Don’t—”

One little pinch and he sent her over the edge. There was no stopping her sharp cry before Sarah buried her head against his shoulder to smother her moans as she rode out the waves of the small orgasm.

Dimly she heard, “Ugh, I don’t think he’s going away, boss. It’s Curt MacGregor.”

There was embarrassment in the employee’s voice now. Oh yeah, he knew exactly what was going on. She would kill Ian later. Absolutely kill him. Or make him wish he were dead. At least once her body stopped trembling from the best orgasm ever.

Crap
.

Floating back down to reality, she couldn’t stop asking herself what the hell had she just done?

Curt MacGregor.

Ian didn’t bother to stop the F-bomb that spilled from his lips. The name had the effect of a cold shower.

Dammit, this was not how he wanted this little moment to end. Not with his finger playing Sarah’s clit like a guitar and his dick begging to be included in the action.

“I need to deal with this.” Shuttering his expression, he moved away from her and pulled her dress back into place.

“Give me two minutes and then show him in,” he bit out tersely to Jack, who waited outside his office.

If Curt hadn’t showed up, there was no doubt Ian would’ve taken Sarah in his office—probably against the door. They’d been minutes away from it, tops.

A quick glance at Sarah’s face showed that she’d come down from cloud orgasm and was plotting the quickest way out of there. She wouldn’t look at him as she busied herself fixing her scarf and dress.

He clenched his jaw, trying not to think about how soft and sweet her breast had felt in his hand. His mouth. Because that sure wasn’t helping his hard-on right now.

“Why don’t you wait out front,” he said as she reached for the door handle a moment later. “We need to talk.”

“Oh, I think we’ve talked enough. Or, funny, but
not
talked.” She glared at him, her face flushed from embarrassment. Probably a little bit of remaining pleasure too.

“Sarah—”

“That was not
just a kiss
,” she hissed, before scrambling out the door and slamming it shut behind her.

Fuck.

Irritation roared through him as he took a minute to compose himself in the bathroom in his office. When he came back out several minutes later, Curt was sprawled out on the couch.

MacGregor looked like he always did. Short, stocky, bald, and with an ugly mug, he kind of gave off a pit bull vibe. And the man still had an apparent aversion to personal hygiene, Ian realized as he approached him.

They’d met during Ian’s brief stint in prison. Their connection had come from the fact they were both in on assault charges, and Curt had saved his arse—literally—within those first few days of Ian arriving at the pen.

They’d also bonded over both being Scottish. Though MacGregor had been in America since he was five and the States were all he’d ever really known. Ian’s family had moved when he was fifteen. He was at the point where nearly half his life had been spent in Scotland, and half in America.

“MacGregor. How’s it going?” Ian offered his hand, which the other man immediately reached out and slap-shook in greeting.

“It’s going good. Real fucking good. Your garage is looking all classy-like now. I guess you’re doing good too, huh, bro?”

Bro. At one point, during his three months in prison, he’d considered this man like another brother. But once out of prison and they’d both gone their separate ways, things had started to change.

Ian had made it a priority to get his life back on the right track. He couldn’t regret the choice that had put him behind bars, but he could sure as hell try and get back on the straight and narrow road.

Curt, though, didn’t seem so inclined.

“I’ve got some parts to sell you, if you’re interested.”

It wasn’t even a question of being interested anymore. It had always just been an understanding that when Curt brought in car parts—some hard to find and expensive to order—Ian bought them. Under the table. No questions asked.

When he’d first opened the garage, he’d been a nobody and struggling just to stay open. He’d taken the risk and hadn’t asked questions. But he’d had the garage for six years now and was starting to be well respected on the island. Some people might still whisper about his criminal record, but more overlooked it and accepted him.

Curt hadn’t shown his face around here in nearly two years, and Ian had started to hope the other man had moved on. But here he was now, trying to pick up with business as usual.

“Nothing personal, MacGregor, but I think I’m going to pass.”

Curt’s grin hardened and dismay flickered in his eyes.

“What are you saying?”

Shite, there’d be no getting around it. “It’s exactly how you pointed out. My garage
is
doing well, and I’m not sure I can be…” he paused and met Curt’s gaze head on without flinching, “…doing business with you anymore.”

“Too good for me now, huh?” Curt gave a harsh, disbelieving laugh and smoothed a hand over his bald head.

A light, quick knock sounded on the door and Ian welcomed the interruption. He moved past Curt to open it.

Sarah stood on the other side. Her face was still slightly flushed, but she appeared a little more composed now. Even if she wouldn’t look him in the eye.

She cleared her throat. “I forgot my purse.”

Ian hid a smile. How far had she gotten before she’d realized? Had she even left the garage?

“This it?”

Ian and Sarah both glanced at Curt, and the strap of a black purse he swung around a beefy finger.

“Oh. Yes, thanks.” Sarah hesitated, before stepping forward to retrieve it.

But Curt didn’t immediately let go, instead seemed to run an analytic glance over Sarah for a moment before relinquishing the purse.

“You’re welcome, gorgeous.”

Ian picked up immediately on the sudden tension in Sarah’s stance and the flicker of discomfort across her face.

She glanced at Ian and there was wariness in her eyes now, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, with a small nod at them both, she disappeared again.

“Isn’t she a pretty little thing?”

Curt’s light tone didn’t fool Ian for a minute, and he swore silently.

“She a friend of yours?”

“Don’t know if I’d call her a friend. Old acquaintance really.” He ground his teeth together and tried to keep his expression casual. He didn’t want to give Curt any indication of how he really felt about Sarah.

Hell, not like he even really knew. He only knew he wanted to be buried inside her again, and that he’d never intentionally put her in harm’s way. The fact that their parting had been bitter and painful was irrelevant.

He’d always kept Curt away from his family. Away from anyone who was important to him, because he wasn’t all that sure he trusted the other man anymore. The brief world they’d shared while serving time didn’t mix well into his current one.

“You should probably go, Curt.”

Curt’s attention whipped back to Ian. “I’m broke, bro. You need to help me out here.”

“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t take that risk. This isn’t just about me. I’ve got employees with families. I’m done.”

“Fine. No problem.” Curt stared at him for a moment and then cocked his head. “You know, that lady in here really was pretty cute. Maybe I should hang out on the island more. Get to know her.”

Like hell
. The son of a bitch was making a threat. A veiled one, but it was just as troubling. Curt had other friends too. Scary ones.

Flexing his jaw, Ian took a step toward the man he’d once considered such a close friend. It’d been an illusion. At the time he’d done what he’d had to do to survive.

“One last time, MacGregor. Come back after closing with the parts and I’ll give you cash.” He lowered his voice, not holding his punches. “But we’re done after this, got it? You walk out of here tonight, and you’re gone. You go do your own thing, and you stay away from the island.”

Curt gave a slow nod, his eyes alight with realization. Shite, whether he’d meant to or not, Ian had tipped his hand at showing Sarah was off limits. A weak spot for him.

“No problem, bro.” Curt grinned and turned to leave. “See you later tonight.”

“And done.” Sarah saved the changes she’d just made on the website for her client and then pulled up her email.

It felt good to work. Even if it was on her grandma’s computer that was almost a decade old and ran at turtle speed. She needed the distraction for a few hours. Oh dear God, she really did need the distraction.

This afternoon she’d lost her mind. There was no denying it. Because even though she’d been in the powerful haze of passion, she’d known
exactly
what she was doing.

She’d gotten all hot and heavy with Ian. With the man who had shattered her heart so badly she didn’t think it would ever be capable of love again.

She’d tried to be open to the possibility of falling in love again in Japan. Had hoped it would happen when she married Neil, but it had barely taken any time at all before she’d come to face the ugly reality. He wasn’t Ian, he would never be Ian, and her heart still belonged to a man an ocean away.

Unfortunately Neil had realized that pretty early on too. And it hadn’t settled well.

Closing her eyes against the wave of anxiety and sadness, she swallowed the lump in her throat.

She was in a better place now. Absolutely. It didn’t matter that she was struggling financially and going it alone. There was still one person who she loved beyond measure. Her daughter. Emily was her world. Her heart.

And she was stupid, ridiculously stupid—and apparently ridiculously horny—to have tried to throw it all away. To have risked everything for an orgasm from Ian.

But, oh, what an orgasm it had been.

“No,” she muttered, standing up. “It was a really bad lapse in judgment. And it won’t happen again.”

It couldn’t happen again. Her conviction had only grown when she’d stepped back into the office to grab her purse. Whoever Ian had been talking to gave off the vibe that he’d just crawled out from under a rock.

Unease had spread through her the minute she’d seen him, and the thorough look over he’d given her had made her skin crawl.

She’d immediately sensed he wasn’t a kind person, or someone she’d want in her life in the slightest. And yet he seemed to be friends with Ian. Doing business with him.

Which was why she was going to keep her distance from Ian. No more kisses as bargains—what the hell had that been about anyway? Ian hated her, probably almost as much as she hated him.

How close hate and love were woven, though.

Needing to jump back into her distraction, she opened another project on her computer.

Actually, it was getting late, and a glass of wine sounded kind of awesome. She stood and went to the kitchen to open the bottle she’d just bought at the grocery.

The walk to the small store hadn’t taken too long, an hour tops there and back. The last thing she’d wanted to do was ask Ian to take her in his car, so since it was a beautiful day she’d thrown on her walking shoes and headed out.

After removing the cork from the budget bottle of wine, she grabbed a glass from the cupboard. Her gaze caught on a movement outside the window and she made a strangled sound of disbelief.

And here he was again. Ian McLaughlin, strolling up Gran’s drive like it was completely natural and expected.

Chapter Seven

She reached the front door before Ian could knock and swung it open.

“Have you decided to become my shadow? Why don’t you just run on home?” She arched a brow. “I’m assuming you have one?”

Ian gave a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m renting a house down in the Greenbank area. Can I come in?”

She absorbed that little tidbit of knowledge, and sighed. “Like I just said, it’s probably a bad idea.”

“But you’re going to let me in anyway?” He continued onto the porch and then stepped right over the threshold.

Once again, her space shrank to just the two of them. Her head went light with the scent of him, and when his body brushed hers as he entered, her breath caught.

“You don’t take the word no very seriously, do you?” she muttered, and shut the door behind him.

“Actually, I do.” His jaw hardened, his eyes clouded. “It carries a lot of weight with me.”

He was serious, she realized. There was more than just words there.