Authors: Chloe Cole
Overdrive (12 page)
His knock was more insistent the second time. Good. She didn’t like to think that he’d give up on her.
Cass took a deep breath and opened the door.
Ryan stood at the threshold wearing a fantastic dress uniform. The dark blue did marvelous things for his healthy tan, and the braided silver trim looked impressively realistic. Navy? No, that wasn’t right. Air Force, maybe?
More than the color and the authenticity of the costume, she loved how it was exactly tailored to his body—tall and lean, long and strong. Only a slack, bewildered expression gave away his response to her maid’s outfit. Otherwise he embodied everything impressive and sexy about a man in uniform.
“Oh!
Monsieur
Haverty,” she said in her best French accent. A year spent studying art in Paris would finally prove good for something. “I hadn’t expected you so soon.
Merci
, come in.”
He hesitated for only a second. Then the reality of what she’d done and said—how she sounded—seemed to click in his brain. “Thank you. I didn’t expect to be kept waiting.”
“My apologies,
monsieur
. I was only just finishing up.”
“I don’t appreciate sloppy service.”
She nibbled her bottom lip, daring to glance up from beneath lowered lashes. He surveyed the hotel room with the air of a man who expected perfection and found it lacking. A curious heat bloomed in her stomach, reveling in his command of the moment.
She’d been right. The man wanted to play.
“Your room-service order is waiting for you in the bedroom,” she said, pitching her voice toward conciliatory. “As you requested.”
“Oh?” He lifted his brows. “I’m curious if you managed to get that right, at least.”
She ushered him into the bedroom where a rolling silver-tone cart was topped with a plate of fresh fruit and a bottle of champagne on ice. She’d ordered the items no matter the sticker shock, figuring they’d sort out paying for it later. Tonight was about living a fantasy.
Ryan strolled to the cart. His expression verged on haughty as he surveyed the assortment. “Good enough.”
“I’m pleased,
Monsieur
Haverty.”
“It’s Major Haverty, actually.”
“Major?”
“Yes. And you are?”
“Cassandra,” she said, briefly shaking hands. That same electric zap they’d shared from the first moment reappeared, only stronger. She almost dropped character. Ryan’s teasing grin made a brief reappearance, as if he too was tempted to laugh.
Then it was gone. He was Major Haverty again.
“Where are you from, Cassandra?”
“Montparnasse, in Paris.”
Dear Lord, he was unbelievably handsome in that uniform. She wondered again where he’d picked it up. Had he returned to the sex shop? Or someplace else? He stood with his shoulders back, his posture firm and solid. The thought turned her on in funny, unpredictable ways. The roleplaying was easy to indulge when he fit the part so perfectly.
“What do you do in the military? Is it the Air Force?”
“That’s right,” he said. “I fly fighter jets. F-16s.”
Cass’s jaw dropped. He could do that all day, adding facts to his character that would’ve seriously jeopardized the absorbency of her panties—had she been wearing any.
No matter how fabulous Ryan looked, her hands were restless for wanting to see him stripped. Something about his expression, however, told her he’d be the one giving orders.
Yes, sir.
“Well, I should finish up my duties.” So breathless now, she heard her accent slipping.
She turned to leave the bedroom, but he called out, “Miss? Could you help me first?”
“My pleasure,
monsie
—I mean, Major.”
He seemed to stifle a private smile. “This coat.” He began undoing the buttons. “It’s too hot in here for it. I won’t be able to get comfortable.”
“I should think not.” She crossed the floor, her knees shaky. “Here, let me help.”
He dropped his arms to his sides as she undid the remaining buttons. Her breath was coming in fitful gulps, but she forced herself to concentrate.
Calm down.
By the looks of how they were playing this hand, they would take their time. She needed to get herself under control or she’d wind up begging for a quickie down on the carpet to cut the tension. What she loved about their game was what would rip her up inside. The waiting. The deliberate buildup.
She pressed her hands flat against his body, right above his ribs. Slowly, slowly, she smoothed them up the inside of his coat, making love to his chest with her palms and her fingertips. His shoulders were tense. Corded ropes of muscles bunched and relaxed beneath her touch. She eased the dress coat over his shoulders then down his brawny arms.
Through it all he held his tense stance, chin thrust out. She liked to think she had all of him at attention, but she didn’t dare go for his crotch. Not yet.
The coat dropped to the floor behind him. “Thank you,” he said curtly. “You can hang that up now.”
Cass hid her smile. She angled her backside in such a way that he would get the choicest view as she bent at the waist. She took her time, first retrieving the coat, then strolling to the closet where she found a hanger. Every action felt bathed in molasses, so achingly slow. In that hotel room, time had ceased.
A
pop
sound yanked her heart into her throat. She turned to find Ryan pouring champagne. The pale blue dress shirt did even better things for his tan than the dark coat. Muscles pulled and shifted with every movement. Her mouth watered at the prospect of seeing him fully nude. They’d shared so much so quickly, but damn did they have a long way to go.
“Come,” he said.
“So soon?”
His gaze jumped to hers. His expression told her she was naughty to risk ruining their charade. “Cut the impertinence, miss. Come here.”
She toyed with the lace edge of her skirt as she approached. His eyes jumped and danced, as if trying to take in everything.
He handed her a full champagne flute before downing a big gulp from his. Maybe he wasn’t as controlled as he managed to appear. “Now, drink.”
Cass dove in for a healthy sip. The bubbles went straight to her oxygen-starved brain. Ryan made her half-drunk already. The alcohol didn’t stand a chance when compared to his blatant sex appeal.
“I want you to do something for me,” he said, his voice tight and low.
“Anything. Anything you need.”
“Go sit on that loveseat.”
Cass willed her feet to move. She crossed away from the serving cart and sat primly on the edge of the loveseat’s stiff cushion.
The window behind her allowed the lights of the Strip to shine in, bathing his face and his crisp, pale blue shirt in color. She just waited, perched there, loving the way he touched her everywhere with his hot gaze.
“Cassandra,” he said softly.
“
Oui
?”
“I’m going to go down on you.”
Overdrive
Chloe Cole
To win her heart, he’ll have to touch off her internal combustion.
Even after ten long years, Frankie Sepkaski’s success as the best vintage car mechanic around still hasn’t overcome her teenage rep as a promiscuous troublemaker. No matter how tempting the prospect, the last thing Mac Galbraith needs is for her to take him out for a spin. Especially since his family thinks he should be looking for a prospective wife among the local socialites, not slumming with a grease monkey.
Mac likes vintage rides, but buying a new one every month just to have an excuse to see his ridiculously sexy mechanic in her overalls? That’s pathetic. When she finally says yes to his date offer, he’s not fooled. It’s only because she has every intention of using him to indulge her fantasies—then walking away. But Mac knows something else: underneath her bad-girl persona is a woman worth her weight in lug nuts.
It might take a crowbar to get her to admit she has feelings for him, but he plans to put the pedal to the metal to convince her to keep him around for more than just a test drive.
Warning: Sweaty, down-and-dirty sex between a mechanic and her best client. Read at your own risk. Dangerous curves lie ahead, and these roads are slippery when wet.
eBooks are
not
transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Overdrive
Copyright © 2013 by Chloe Cole
ISBN: 978-1-61921-221-3
Edited by Sasha Knight
Cover by Kendra Egert
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: January 2013
