Trick (2 page)

I said good-bye to that voice—to that girl—my own personal version of sin years ago. I never thought I’d see her again. It was for the best. I thought she understood that. So, what the hell is she doing here now?

I fumble for the bottle of gin, avoiding her eyes, but that doesn’t do much good because my gaze instead settles on that exposed strip of skin where her tiny-ass shirt doesn’t reach her short-as-hell skirt. That strip of skin that I’d licked, tasted, and claimed as my own. All before I walked away.

I slide the drink across the bar without making eye contact as she pushes a ten dollar bill my way.

“Keep it.” I push the bill back. “It’s on the house.”

“What about that Jameson?” Super Douche interrupts. I should want to punch him, but instead, I find myself thanking him silently. Because without him and his penchant for whiskey, I’d be thinking about how I want to pull Harlow over this bar and fuck her right here. And I can’t be thinking like that. Because the smartest, least selfish thing I ever did was walk away from that girl.

I pour his drink and finally allow myself a quick glance. She’s still standing close. Running the rim of the glass along her lower lip. Teasing me. Tempting me.

“Hey, Gunner,” she says.

“Harlow.” I nod. Anything more will just bring me right back to that summer over three years ago when she was mine.

She takes the ten dollar bill and stuffs it into the tip jar, and I cringe. Because to her, I’m the same deadbeat I was back then. She doesn’t know I own this place outright. She doesn’t know anything.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, concentrating on drying that damn glass better than any glass has ever been dried before.

Harlow shrugs, and I suck in a quick breath as the strap of her shirt slips down one of her tiny shoulders.

“Harlow,” I say. Her eyes snap up at the sound of her name. “What are you doing here?” I repeat.

She leans in over the bar and I step back. “I came to see you. Obviously.”

“Why?”

She jerks her head back, stunned. I don’t know why she would be. Despite the newly acquired business, I’m the same screwed up asshole I was the last time I saw her.

“I just...I... Can we talk?”

“I’m working,” I say.

“Right. Okay.” She rubs her palms down her skirt, drawing my eyes to places they shouldn’t go. “Well, what time do you get off?”

I want to tell her that I’m the boss and I can leave whenever I damn well please, but that would just encourage her. I toss the towel onto the bar top and jerk my head back.

“C’mere,” I say. Harlow rounds the bar quickly, hopefully.

“Jared, watch the bar will ya?” I say. I instinctively reach back and clutch Harlow’s hand as I make my way to the storage room. She twists her fingers into mine and that’s my cue to let them drop.

As soon as the flimsy door shuts behind us I turn toward her. Really looking at her for the first time since she walked up to the bar.

Her face is the same, it hasn’t been long enough to change it; maybe it’s a little thinner—a little more grown-up. Her hair is longer than I remember, and I remember it well. Grabbing it in my fists and tugging as I pumped in and out of her. She always moaned the loudest when I did that.

“How’d you find me?” I ask. It’s not like I’m well hidden in this small area, but my bar, Tricks, is kind of a dump. Not exactly the place that princesses like Harlow or her friends stumble into.

“I have my ways.” She lifts her chin confidently, but I see through it. I see the goose bumps across her chest and the vein in her neck that twitches every time she swallows. She’s nervous as hell to be standing this close to me again. I sort of dig that. “Besides, I heard the drinks here were killer.” She takes a sip of the gin cocktail and licks her lips for good measure.

“You didn’t come here just for a Sapphire Sin, Harlow. It’s been years. What were you hoping to get out of showing up here?”
Looking like that
, I want to add. Instead, I let my eyes linger on all of that tan skin.

“I just wanted to talk. I’ve never really gotten over how things ended. With us, I mean.” She finishes her drink, and it must help with her boldness because she takes another step closer. Close enough that I can smell the all-too familiar sweet scent of Harlow— amber and pomegranate, it hasn’t changed. “And when I found out you were working here, I just... I wanted to say hi. See how you were. Friends can do that, right?”

And just like that, I’m back to summer, three years before, the smell of ripe peaches in the air, and it’s the very first time I’ve ever seen Harlow Mills.

“Hey, fuckhead, go get another case before Dad gets here,” my brother Greyson shouted across the room, tossing me the keys to his Camaro.

I would have asked ‘why me,’ but I knew it was because I was the most sober. And also because Greyson knew I had a hard-on for his car and wouldn’t turn down a chance to drive it.

It was the kind of hot summer day that made waves of heat shimmer off the asphalt. A perfect day for a game of pool in the air conditioning, never-ending cans of beer, and a bonfire late at night. I was ready for exactly that, plus hoping some sweet pieces of ass would show up to keep me busy in bed, and that’s where my mind was when I happened upon a sporty red Jeep stranded on the side of the road, a pretty blonde standing next to it, cell phone in hand.

I may have been in a rush to get back to my day of being a lazy fuck, but I’d never pass a pretty girl in need of help. My mama raised me right.

I pulled to the side and watched as she bit her lip nervously. I put my hands up to let her know I wasn’t planning to do anything stupid. “Hey, darlin.’ I saw you pulled over and wondered if you needed a hand.”

“I can’t get ahold of my father,” she said, shifting her weight from one foot to another. Her body was all sweet curves covered with a tiny sundress, light green and ruffled. She had on sexy cowboy boots, and kept pulling one foot out and rubbing it along the back of her calf. Her blonde curls tossed around her shoulders whenever the breeze picked up. “I don’t have the number for AAA in my phone. I don’t even know what’s wrong. It was in the shop the other day, so I don’t get it.”

“Mind if I take a look? My brothers are hardcore mud boggers, so I may be able to help.” I watched a smile of relief break over her face, and I decided right then and there I was gonna fix this damn Jeep no matter what it took, just so I could see her smile again.

One glance under the hood, and I knew it was the spark plug wire. Fool auto shop monkeys must’ve knocked a wire loose. It would be a two minute fix.

Two minutes, and she’d be back on the road.

“Is it something you can fix?” she asked.

“Sure can,” I said. I debated telling her it’d take awhile. Or that I needed her to ride to the parts store with me to get some part I’d pretend to use. Or that I couldn’t fix it, but I could give her a lift wherever she was headed.

Any of those would’ve fit my usual scenarios with a pretty girl. But I shocked myself by reaching in and fixing it, and even double checking to make sure everything else looked fine.

“Well, this sure as hell isn’t some beater you’d mud bog in, but a Jeep’s a Jeep, and this one is good to go.” I slammed the hood and wiped my hands on my jeans. “Wanna start her up?”

The girl nodded, ran to the driver’s side, and turned the key. The engine roared to life, and she grabbed the wheel and hollered, “Woot!”

Her excitement loosened something in me, and I found myself not wanting to leave. But I had to. This gorgeous girl in her shiny new Jeep didn’t need me in her life. That was for damn sure.

“Glad to help.” I smacked the hood and tipped my hat at her, then walked back to my car. I was about to pull out when I saw her door swing open and she came running.

My heart stopped in my chest, and I sat, not knowing what to expect.

“Hey,” she said, leaning down and into my opened window. “Um, thank you. I didn’t say ‘thank you.’”

“You didn’t have to run back for that,” I said, looking her up and down. “But I’m damn glad you did.”

“My name is Harlow. Harlow Mills.” She stuck her hand in my window.

I took it and pressed it to my lips, loving the way her cheeks went all red. “I’m Gunner Hunt. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

She tugged her hand back and bit her lip, and my brain went crazy imagining every naughty thing this angel-face might be capable of doing.

Naked

In my bed.

“So, um...I never, ever do this. But....here.”

She shoved a napkin into my hand and, before I could register what it was, she ran to her Jeep. I hardly had time to watch that fine ass before she was in her Jeep and peeling out, leaving me staring into a cloud of dust.

I looked down at the napkin crumpled in my hand. It had a phone number with a message scrawled in bubbly letters underneath: “I love a guy who can get his hands dirty. Call me sometime.”

I held the napkin to my nose and inhaled the pomegranate and amber scent I was about to know very well...on every inch of that sexy skin.

I took my phone out and dialed.

I never made it back with the beer that night.

I’ve got to end this. Again.

“We aren’t friends. You shouldn’t have come. And I don’t want your money,” I say, shoving the crinkled ten dollar bill I pulled out of the tip jar back into her palm.

“We used to be friends. More than friends, Gunner. Was it really so bad?”

I try really fucking hard not to, but I can’t help but let my mind flashback to how things were with Harlow before they got so damn complicated.

“You look good,” I say, shaking away the images before they make me rock hard back in this storage room. Because what the hell else am I supposed to say right now? That I don’t regret
walking away from her? That she never should have tracked me down? Maybe I should say all of those things, but I’m weak and she’s so close.

“You too. And I’m sorry for just showing up like this, I hope I didn’t get you into any trouble. I’m sure your boss isn’t thrilled.” She thinks I just wipe counters and pour beers. Good. That’s all she needs to know. “I know you need to get back, but maybe when you get off, we could talk for a little? Just catch up?"

I run my palm across the scruff of my five o’clock shadow.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Harlow.”

“Come on, I don’t bite,” she says, with a small smile.

“The reasons we can’t be together haven’t changed,” I say. “I’m still the same loser I was back then, kitten. And you’re still a goddamn princess.” A goddamn sexy princess. And if she knew all of the new reasons that there can never be an us, she’d definitely run the other direction. She needs to get over this bad boy fantasy, and go back to the family she loves.

“I’m not asking for us to get back together, Gunner. I’m just asking for one night.” She swallows hard and that vein in her neck is throbbing like certain parts of my anatomy are right now.

“Please.” She bites her bottom lip in that way that screams sex and innocence all at the same time, and she knows I can’t fucking resist it.

“You shouldn’t have come,” I say. But it’s a lie.

I link my arm around that delicate waist and pull her in. Her skin is hot like she’s been out in the sun all day, probably in some skimpy ass bikini. She perches up onto her tiptoes and runs her mouth slowly along my jawline. She was eighteen the last time I saw her, and at the time, I didn’t think she could get any hotter. But right now, she’s all woman, and she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

“My bike is out back,” I say, knowing it’s a fucking stupid idea the minute it comes out of my mouth. But I’ve had stupider, and I’ve done alright for myself. “We can take a quick ride, but I gotta be back for last call. Alright with you?”

Her eyes are wide, sky blue, looking at me like I’ve got the answer to every problem she’s ever had. Too bad she doesn’t realize this ride is about to toss one more big ass problem at both of us.

Because I’m going to fuck Harlow. It won’t be sweet, but it will be good as hell. And when it’s done, she’s going to walk like she just rode a horse ten miles bareback, and I’m going to tell her that all I’m good for anymore is a fuck and a pour, anytime she needs either.

I didn’t turn into the man she imagined I would. I hate that about myself, but I hate it even more that those big blue eyes look so hopeful. Especially because I’m about to let her down hard and fast. Maybe I’ve got more money, but my life is even more fucked up, and I’m not about to get her involved in any aspect of it.

But I swear on all that’s holy, I’ll give her the fuck of her life before I cut her off. It’s not much, but it’s what I do well, and I’ve never done it better than when I’ve had my dick buried in Harlow’s tight little pussy.

“Yes. I mean...I’d love to. Um.” She looks uncertain, like she wants some kind of confession of love from me, or at least some sweet words, maybe.

I hate the hurt on her face when I keep my expression blank, but what I’m about to do is stupid enough without adding extra emotional complications in.

“Let’s go,” I say, jerking my head to the back door. “Jared! I’m out till last call.” Jared scowls at me, but he doesn’t say anything, because he knows I’ll throw him all tonight’s tips plus triple pay. I know it would break Harlow’s heart to know, but this isn’t the first time I’ve ditched the bar for a fuck.