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Authors: Anya Breton

BOOK: SweetlyBad
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“I agreed to a one-night stand. It’s 7:30 in the morning!”

“A one-night stand doesn’t have to happen at night.”

“I’m at work! Customers could arrive at any moment.” She
finally pushed at his shoulders, dislodging his grip. “Besides, don’t you want
to do this properly, like in a
bed
?”

Drew dropped his attention to the obvious erection pressing
at his boxer seams. He caught her eye once again, pleased that she’d been
staring at his shorts. “I want to properly thrust that in you. I don’t care
where I do it—on a bed, on the floor or up against a wall. But I want to do it
now.”

She drew her lower lip between her teeth. The delicate gnaw
made his erection bounce. Erica released her tender skin. “I have work to do.”

He spared at look over his shoulder at the bank of windows
and the empty parking lot. “No one is banging down the door. Can’t you just
turn the Open sign off for a little while?”

“I could. I don’t—”

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to. You want to.” Drew framed
her generous hips in his hands, loving how soft she felt even if he wasn’t
supposed to be attracted to her. “You don’t think you should.”

Her eyebrows drew down into an expression that didn’t bode
well for continued sexy time. “Have you ever worked a day in your life?”

Drew stiffened. This was not a discussion he wanted to have
now. And his erection threatened to deflate. “My employment history is
irrelevant for a one-night stand.”

“I’m surprised you even know a word like ‘irrelevant’.”

His dick slumped lower than his shoulders. “I’m lazy, not
stupid.”

“So you admit you’re lazy?”

He’d had enough of her denigration. This was some attempt to
put him off his plan to screw her in the office. He’d fantasized eight
different scenarios occurring in this very room last night. At least one of
them was happening today. “The only thing I’m going to admit is that I’m going
to fuck you. Here. Today. The only question is, do you want the first time to
be in view of the windows or should we head to the backroom?”

“First time?” Erica retreated to the counter behind her, he
presumed to put space between them. “I said it could only happen once.”

A loud snort scraped the inside of his throat. “You said
one-night stand.” Drew strode forward, stealing the space she’d created. He
lowered his head beside hers. Her scent was intoxicating, now with a hint of
spice. Was this the marker of lust he’d heard the animal races could sense? “I
plan to start early so I can come as many times as my body will allow.”

“I said once…” Her argument trailed off when he tongued her
neck.

“You already think I’m an insulting, stupid asshole,” he
said in between licks. “Why not add deal-breaker to the list?”

“And player,” she added breathlessly. “Don’t forget that.”

He never did.

Chapter Five

 

His mouth closed over a
nipple she hadn’t felt him free. “We have to go to the other room,” Erica
gasped out as she tugged her tank top back down. “And I have to close the
shop.”

“Do what you have to do,” Drew said as if he had the right
to command her. “I’ll find a condom. You have two minutes before I grab you
wherever you are.”

Oh god. He hadn’t
had
a condom already? What was she
getting herself into?

Nonetheless, she scribbled a hasty note declaring a late
opening and flipped off the fluorescent
Open
sign. With a good deal of
trepidation she started for the garage and the storage room.

This was a bad idea. Several bad ideas actually.

She shouldn’t get involved with a man like Drew. Nor should
she be involved with a customer who couldn’t pay his bill. Above all, she
didn’t know if she was capable of a one-night stand.

Don’t do that
, the little voice in her head griped.

True. She was capable of anything she set her mind to. Just
look at this garage. No one thought she could keep it running after her dad
passed. Not only had she proved them wrong, she’d also increased profits. Auto
owners from larger towns had begun bringing their vehicles to Stoddard for the
promise of a fair diagnosis at a decent price.

Erica put on her bravest face. Determination settled within
her muscles as she strode forward. She could do this without getting hurt.

She arrived in time to catch Drew slipping his silk boxers
over his muscled thighs. He turned unselfconsciously, sending her a sloppy
smile. But she wasn’t paying attention to his mouth. Her gaze sank far lower.

He was…

Erica squinted.

He wasn’t as well-endowed as she’d have imagined a playboy
to be. She hid her disappointment. The rest of him was well made to the point
of unfairness. That six-pack abdomen matched biceps that no doubt would bulge
out of any short-sleeved shirt he tried to wear. Legs that were the ideal
combination of lean muscle and gently furred skin completed the look.

Drew would be perfect if it weren’t for his personality and
small cock. Oh, and the little problem of him being destitute. But money wasn’t
needed to have a good time.

“Your turn.” His smile shifted into a cheeky grin.

Erica could easily see what would have prompted dozens of
women to hop into bed with him. She secured the door behind her before kicking
off her boots and grabbing the bottom of her tank top. Up it came with little
fanfare. She dropped it aside then slipped her arms behind her. “Bra on or
off?”

Drew shot her a look so twisted with disgust that Erica was
positive she blushed. “Off,” he said.

“Well, I didn’t know.”

“I was already sucking your nipple. That should have been a
hint.” He reached for her despite the feet between them.

Her bra slithered down her shoulders. Erica hid her breasts
behind her arm. Drew’s gaze grew heavy. He pushed off his right foot, crossing
the space in one long stride. His palms framed her face. That cheeky grin
formed over her mouth, slopped in moisture. She made a sound of displeasure.

He drew back, perhaps for a quick look at her expression.
Then he wiped his mouth on his forearm. One thumb caressed away the wet spot
he’d left on her lips. The small movement was a perfect tease he followed up
with a brush of his mouth to the right corner of hers.

He was learning. Erica couldn’t help but smile.

Drew dropped his hands, nudging her arm aside. He stared at
her breasts for several silent beats. Her stomach dipped with worry. He’d
already hinted she was fat. He was going to remind her of it now.

She hadn’t realized how much she wanted this until the
thought came that she might not get it. So when he covered her breasts in his
warm palms and gently squeezed instead of insulting her, Erica couldn’t hide
her relief. Relief quickly turned to desire as he resumed his delicate kisses,
first at her cheeks. By the time Drew’s tongue got involved, she was in the
mood for anything he wanted to do.

What he wanted to do was get her out of her jeans. He was
unwilling to be away from her breasts for long. Crouched in front of her, Drew
swirled his tongue around her right nipple while he worked at the fastener on
her pants. She gave in to the urge to touch his hair. It might have been soft
at one time but her fingers got caught on old product. No surprise given how
put together he’d looked yesterday. That reminded her, he’d neglected to shower
today. Yet he still smelled of fresh cotton sheets and male.

“Oh my,” he said soon after dragging her jeans over her
thighs. “I thought you’d wear granny panties.”

No doubt because he thought they didn’t make any other
panties in her size.

“That’s a good color on you,” Drew said of the evergreen
lace she’d pulled on this morning. “Were you hoping to show them off?”

Had
she been? While she didn’t wear lace panties
every day, it wasn’t unheard of for her to wear them to work. And Saturdays
were a short day at the shop.

“I need to do laundry.” It was a partial truth. There
was
a basket of dirty jeans waiting to go through the rinse. She’d had plenty of
undergarments to choose from but he didn’t need to know that.

He hooked his thumbs beneath the lace and pulled. There was
no censure in his gaze as he looked up from the floor. If he still thought her
attractive
despite
her figure, he wasn’t showing it. Drew licked two
fingers and then swiped them through her folds. Not the sexiest way to get her
lubricated but she didn’t complain.

Lubrication was no longer a problem once he resumed his
attention to her breasts. Erica threw her head back. A long sigh traveled down
the column of her throat. He was on his feet a moment later, nibbling at her
collarbone and on up her neck.

Drew speared her without warning. The initial uncomfortable
thrust caught her breath. She dragged her lip between her teeth, biting to keep
from making a sound. He concentrated on teasing her nipples and sucking at her
chin for several seconds before she began to enjoy herself.

He hauled her aloft, wrapping her thighs around his waist.
Deeper, he thrust once. Shivery heat warmed up her body.

Carefully, he lowered to the cot. “Ride me.”

“I don’t think the cot—”

“Erica.
Ride
me.”

He was the playboy. He knew what he was doing. Erica rocked
back, slowly at first until she was certain he and the cot could handle the motion.
Drew helped set the rapid pace by slipping his hands under her ass and lifting.

And then the cot crumpled beneath them.

Drew slammed backward, taking her with him. She froze.
Embarrassment seared her face. Except for Tina’s digs, Erica’s figure hadn’t
been a major concern for her until Drew turned up. Now everything was a
reminder of her need to shed a few pounds.

“That’s a first.” Was that a
chuckle
? He wasn’t
furious with her? “Don’t stop,” he said next.

“I…” Erica didn’t know what to say. The mood was ruined as
surely as her cot.

“Erica.” Drew cupped her face. “You’re beautiful and I’m
going to fuck you if the floor caves in beneath us. Don’t. Stop.”

Oh.
That was quite possibly the nicest thing anyone
had ever said to her. How sad was that?

Drew thrust upward, wiping her mind of everything. She clung
to him within the ruin of the cot, loving how he grunted in her ear. He lifted
her over his cock with surprising ease and met her on the fall back down. Each
motion created a harder thrust until she couldn’t see, think or breathe without
concerted concentration. Ragged inhales were the name of the game as desire
coursed through her. He murmured sexily in between sloppy kisses.

“I imagined sixteen different interludes with you in here
and this wasn’t one of them.”

He’d imagined sex with her? Of course he had. He was male.

Drew went on. “Want to know how many fantasies I have that
take place in the tow truck? Only four. I prefer space for a good fuck.”

His arms banded around her, holding her aloft several
inches. Erica lost her breath in his tight grip. She lost more than her breath
when he truly began thrusting. Erica couldn’t have reasoned her way out of a
paper bag with a map to the exit while he took her on his wild ride. Too soon
she broke apart around him and he groaned as if in pain. Drew stilled beneath
her, clinging tightly while he came.

He was quiet for a pair of seconds. Too long for Erica.
Stuck in his arms, she could do nothing but think about what they had just
done.

Sex. In the backroom in her garage. That had been nothing
like any of her exes. No, that had been equal parts pain and pleasure, crazed
and sane, as well as satisfied and unfulfilled.

How fitting for a playboy to leave her more confused than
before he’d fucked her.

* * * * *

Erica stumbled out of the
storage room. That had been…awkward. The destruction of the cot would have been
a deal-breaker with Jared. But Drew had kept right on going. Was that a playboy
thing?

Whatever the case, she had work to do. There was a Dodge Ram
with a failing brake line in the parking lot. And someone was due in at nine to
pick up his Jeep. She washed up as best she could in the privacy of the
restroom. Erica fixed her tank top around her middle and raked her fingers
through her hair. One of these days she really needed to remember a comb.

She flipped the sign to
Open
before starting for the
Dodge. The part she’d been waiting on had finally arrived. She dropped into the
driver’s seat and turned on the engine, whirling the volume dial around to
avoid potential eardrum blowout from the rock music. Erica took care with the
failing brakes on the drive forward. She eased the Dodge onto the hydraulics in
garage bay one. Now to get thing up on the lift, but first…

Erica hopped out and strode for the storage room with a
question on her lips. The words stalled in her throat upon finding Drew
sprawled on the broken cot, deep in sleep. She hadn’t tired him out
that
much. Was he planning to sleep the day away while she worked?

He
had
said he’d had a rough night. But then so had
she. She wasn’t snoozing behind the counter or at home in bed. Erica was an
adult who had to work for her living. Drew should learn what that was like.

She picked up the nearest thing—an empty cardboard box—and
tossed it across the room. It landed on Drew’s hip. He bolted upright, palms
lifting as if he could shoot webs like Spiderman.

Surprised eyes cleared and focused. “Erica? What’s going
on?”

“You were sleeping.”

“That’s usually what happens when I’m tired.”

“I’m tired too but I have to work. Look, am I towing you
down to Boston or what?”

“I can’t pay you for it right now.”

“I can write you a bill. Just give me your address—”

“Hello,” a female called from the front of the garage.
“Erica? Erica!” The volume increased and the tone roughened. “My car made it
five
miles before it broke down!”

No
, she silently whimpered on her trip out. That
wasn’t possible. She recognized the voice, knew the GMC had been in peak
condition when it had left. Erica went cold.

“Mrs. Hamon.” Erica greeted the older woman with a smile she
wasn’t feeling. “What happened?”

The woman’s pinched expression didn’t bode well. “I got the
car home. Parked it. And then the next day when I went to the general store,
the damn thing wouldn’t start! I had to have Harold drive me home! I paid you
extra money simply because I heard you did better work than everyone else. This
isn’t better work. This is the worst work I’ve ever had!”

“I’ll come out and fix it—”

“No.” The woman slashed a hand through the air. “Jared is
already working on it. I want a refund.”

Erica ground her teeth to avoid growling aloud.

Of course Jared had jumped in with assistance. He was like
an ambulance chaser. The guy had probably cackled gleefully like an old-timey
bad guy, twirling a handlebar moustache around his finger. Given half the
chance he’d certainly tie her to a train track and run the locomotive over her
himself.

“Of course,” Erica said even though it killed her not to
insist she get a look at what had happened. The car
had
been perfect
when it left—better even than when it had arrived, because she’d done an extra
flush of the fuel system and hadn’t charged Mrs. Hamon for it.

She asked the woman for the card she’d used to charge the
work. Silently she reversed the charges. There went three hundred dollars she
needed to make ends meet.

Erica slumped against the counter once the woman was out of
sight. Could things get any worse? This was the
second
complaint she’d
had in a week. And her competition had managed to hear about them all. Jared
would turn up with another offer to buy the garage. No doubt it would be less
than he’d offered the first time and twice as condescending.

“Everything okay?”

Her back stiffened upon finding the blond at the door to the
garage. How much had Drew heard? Did he know she was slowly failing her father?

“Everything is fine,” she lied.

His features crinkled, for what reason she didn’t know.
Rather than ask, she turned her back on him and began the disheartening task of
documenting her failure in the books.

 

She was lying.

Drew hadn’t known Erica long but he knew enough to work that
much out. That customer had rampaged through the garage, demanding her money
back with absolutely no explanation for why she deserved it. Where was the
broken-down car as proof? Where was the mechanic’s note explaining what Erica
had done wrong?

There was no way everything was
fine
.

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