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Authors: Dahlia West

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BOOK: Shooter (Burnout)
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He pressed down on her swollen clit and she arched her back. Her whole body felt like a a live wire, stretched taut and vibrating with electricity.

 

************************

 

Chris knew she was close. Despite his request, her insides were tensing up around his finger, grasping it, and drawing it in. He found her little button and thumbed it. Hayley creamed for him, flooding his palm with juices. Good God, he’d never seen a woman come like that. Just from a fingering. It took his breath away. He pulled her close and let her ride it out, flexing and throbbing on his finger, crying into his shoulder. And she was crying, that much was certain. All that tension having just suddenly snapped had left her sobbing in relief.

 

When the spasms around his finger stopped, he slowly slid his hand out of her panties and wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly. When she could speak again, she began apologizing profusely.

 

“God, I’m such a mess,” she told him miserably, wiping the tears from her face.

 

“No, you’re not. Come here,” he pushed her head back down into his shoulder and stroked her hair. “You keep everything locked up inside you. It had to come out, sooner or later. I’m just glad it was with me.”

 

She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I’m sure you have all kinds of women who bawl all over themselves when you’re fooling around.”

 

He grinned. “Well, no, you’re right, I haven’t. But then again, I’ve never seen a woman have an orgasm like that.” He pulled her closer and put his lips to her ear. “I’d say it’s a good trade. And I’m pretty sure we’ll be having less of one and a lot more of the other from now on.”

 

********************************************

The next day, Chris wasn’t able to convince Easy to come with him to the garage. Apparently Easy had fallen into pattern wherein he’d figured out exactly how much (or how little) he needed to work in order to pay the rent and had settled into a lifestyle of being angry at everyone and, oddly enough, being happy about it at the same time. Hayley watched out the front window as Chris shook his head as he looked at the door to the little blue house and then started his Harley. Chris may have given up on the younger man, but Hayley had not yet decided he was a lost cause.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 24

 

 

The tires of Chris’ huge Ford squealed loudly as the truck jumped forward and ran up on the curb. Hayley put both feet on the brake and barely managed to stop the extended cab vehicle from slamming into Easy’s mailbox. The tires squealed on the pavement. Somewhere a dog started barking.

 

Hayley put the stick shift in neutral and pushed the gas pedal, which only resulted revving the engine. She was shifting back and forth, frowning at the gear box, when the front door of the little blue house jerked open. Easy stomped down the front steps.

 

“What in the hell are you doing?!” he shouted over the engine.

 

Hayley looked at him through the open passenger window. “Um. Lunch?” She gestured to the plastic bags arranged on the seat beside her. “I made a whole bunch of sandwiches, but I don’t think I can carry them all the way to the garage by myself.”

 

She shoved the stick upward, let off the clutch, and the truck jumped forward again. This time the engine stalled. “Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Easy shouted, hitting the side of the truck with his palms. “Jesus Christ! You’re going kill yourself. Or me. Or the neighbors. Just- goddamn it, just wait a minute!”

 

Easy flung open the passenger door, leaned in and looked down at the parking brake. “Jesus H. Christ,” he muttered. He ripped the keys out of the ignition. He jabbed his finger at her. “You. Stay.” he ordered, and slammed the door. Minutes later he returned wearing a cleaner t-shirt and a jacket. He marched to the driver’s side and threw open the door. “You,” he said again, and again pointing at her, “
Move.

 

*****************************

Chris had the large bay doors of the garage open and heard the rumble of a large engine. He craned his neck to see his own truck ambling into the lot. He watched as Easy slammed the cab door and stalked toward him. Hayley got out of the passenger side and started filling up her arms with sacks and bags. Chris started to go out to help her, but Tex got to her first.

 

“You’re not doing right by her,” Easy announced, tossing the keys on the nearest workbench.

 

Chris frowned. “How’s that?”

 

“She’s a menace behind the wheel!” Easy snapped, gesturing back to the truck. “She can’t even get it out of the driveway!”

 

“You let her drive?” Chris asked, glancing at Hayley.

 

“Hell no! Listen to me, she can
not
drive. She popped the clutch; she nearly took out your damn mailbox!
She left the parking brake on for fuck’s sake!

 

The left corner of Chris’s mouth twitched. “By any chance was the mailman around?”

 

Easy stopped, bewildered for a second, but then got back on track. “No. Thank God she didn’t kill anyone!”

 

“Damn,” Chris muttered to himself.

 

“Why the hell haven’t you taught her to drive? She’s a non-functional female, Shooter!”

 

“Well, for one thing, she doesn’t have a license,” he told Easy.

 

Easy flinched, then regained himself. “Well, of course she doesn’t! No one in their right mind would let her behind the wheel!”

 

“Maybe she just can’t drive a stick,” Hawk pointed out.

 

“Well, you
have
a stick!” Easy argued to Chris. “So teach her that shit! Damn woman, walking around, not knowing how to drive her boyfriend’s truck. If you run over your foot with your lawn mower, you’re just gonna bleed out at the end of your driveway because she won’t be able to get you to the hospital!”

 

“Hey!” said Slick, brightly, entering the garage with Tex in tow, arms laden with lunch. “I made pulled pork sandwiches! I’ll put them in the break room. I made enough for everyone. You too, Emilio,” she called out. “Eat some, okay?”

 

Emilio grinned and nodded.

 

When Tex and Hayley returned she stopped next to the workbench and eyed Easy working on the carburetor of a 1972 Stingray. “Well, I have to get back,” she announced. Easy stood up. “No, you should just stay,” she added quickly. “I mean you’re already here and you’re-” she gestured to the engine. “You stay. I can come get you later. Or you can get a ride back with someone. Whatever.” She picked up the keys off the workbench.

 

Easy snorted. “You won’t even make it to the street.”

 

Hayley ignored him. “Good luck with your….whatever,” she said gesturing again to the Chevy. She headed to the truck and everyone watched as she pulled open the driver’s side door and climbed up into the cab. She took a minute to adjust the seat.

 

“If she hits your bike,” Easy said to Chris, “I will die a happy man.”

 

Hayley cranked the engine, put the truck in gear and rolled through the parking area. She paused at the entrance to the street to check for traffic. Caleb cruised by on his bike, turning into Burnout. Hayley gave him a honk and wave before pulling out smoothly and turning toward home.

 


Son of a bitch!
” Easy shouted.

 

Tex laughed. “I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘Hornswaggled’.”

 

“Did you know she could drive?” Easy demanded of Chris.

 

Chris laughed and shook his head. “No, but there’s a reason I call her ‘Slick.’ At first I thought she was a con artist. Then I thought I’d misjudged her and I felt bad about it. But pretty soon I realized I wasn’t that far from the mark the first time. Though, she appears to only use her powers for good, so I usually let it go.”

 

Caleb put the kickstand down on his Harley and swung his leg over onto the gravel. “That Slick?” he asked, walking into the garage to get his hands dirty on a Saturday afternoon.

 

“Yep,” Chris confirmed.

“She got a license?” Caleb asked.

“Nope.”

“What smells so good?” Rapid City’s finest asked the group.

“Pulled pork sandwiches,” Emilio called out.

“Awesome,” Caleb declared, and shuffled off to the break room.

Emilio followed him. “So you gonna let her drive? With no license? How come you don’t let
me
drive?”

“Because you are a dumbass,” Caleb declared, biting into a sandwich. “And you don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

*************************

That night Chris picked up Hayley from Maria’s and drove them home. Hayley was exhausted, unfortunately, so fooling around was out. She hopped in the tub and then slid into bed with her hair still damp.

“I didn’t think about stranding Easy at work,” he told her.

She smiled and settled into the pillow. “Sometimes you have to play a little dirty.”

“He stayed all day.”

“That’s good,” she murmured.

All in all the day would have been better if it had ended on a nookie note, Chris though, but he had to admit lunch had been awesome, his whole team had been together, and he had the prettiest girl in Rapid City in his bed, so it could have been far worse. He smiled to himself, gave the kitten, who had now taken to sleeping on his pillow, a scratch and slept with ease. At least for a few hours.

Chris came to waking slowly as comfortable weight slid over him. It took him a moment to realize that it was Hayley moving to cover him. Her right knee came down to the side of his hip as she straddled him. Her upper torso, covered by her shirt, pressed against him as she leaned down over him. Her lips touched his in a feather light, unsure kiss. Her breath was ragged and he could tell she was nervous. He slowly brought his hands up from his sides and she hesitated, pulling away just a few inches and looking down at him. Instead of touching her, he brought his hands all the way up and slid them both underneath his pillow, cradling his own head.

 

He watched her swallow nervously and lean forward again, brushing her lips against his one more time. When she relaxed enough, she closed her eyes and took his mouth harder. Her tongue darted out, teasing its way past his lips but pulling back again instantly, and then entering again. At the same time could feel her rubbing her slit along the length of his cock, warming the fabric of his boxer briefs.

 

She skimmed her lips across his cheek and nuzzled him between his jaw and his throat, her devious tongue teasing him. She worked her way down to his shoulder and lower still, pausing to swirl said tongue around his left nipple. He smiled. Truly devious. Then he stilled as she moved her knees down to straddle his thighs, her belly pressing against his erection and she placed another feather light kiss....directly on one of his scars.

 

Chris stilled. No woman had ever kissed his scars. Or even really touched him there, not like this. But this woman, she wasn't looking away or staring or touching in some kind of twisted dare she'd made with herself to see if she could do it. She was kissing and licking and making love to him with her mouth. All of him. Her lips were over his hip now, and she placed both hands at his shoulders and began slowly trailing her fingers down the length of his torso telling him that both sides were of equal importance to her. His throat was tight and his eyes stung and all he could get out was, "Hayley" that sounded desperate, even to him.

 

"Shhh," was her only reply.

 

Her fingertips came to rest on the elastic of his underwear and she peeled them down, exposing him. He watched in fascination as she slowly dragged her tongue up the long, smooth shaft and swirled around the head to taste the pre-come that was glistening there. The same attention and focus that she'd used on his scars was now directed at his cock and she was making love to it with such a single minded intensity that he had to clench his fists under the pillow to keep from reaching out to her.

 

She stopped suddenly and he groaned in disappointment. "Slick," he gasped. "You can’t just stop. Use your hand if you want. God. Just-"

 

"I want to feel it," she whispered, and his words died in his throat, such was his surprise.

BOOK: Shooter (Burnout)
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