Revved (Axle Alley Vipers)(23)

“You were?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you still going to?”

“When you sober up.”

“I’ve enjoyed our talks,” she said, shifting conversational gears, then gave him another one of those light-up-the-room smiles.

“Me, too, Foxy.”

“I like it when you call me foxy.”

Now he was back to smiling.

“Did you like talking to me?” she said, turning in her seat, curling her legs up underneath her.

“Of course.”

“Did you like talking to me…a lot?”

“Yeah, Rusty.”

“Like, a lot, a lot?”

“What are you getting at?”

She was blushing, he could see even in the dim light of the car, but she didn’t turn away, kept those beautiful eyes full of mischief and fire aimed at him. “The last time we talked, I thought…I thought that maybe you…” She bit her lip.

He knew she’d figured out what he was doing the last time they’d talked. Her voice had grown huskier, her breathing heavier. He’d wanted her to know. “What? You thought what?”

She wriggled in her seat. “Were you…touching yourself?”

“I was stroking my cock the whole time you talked to me. Your voice makes me so hard, my balls ache. So fucking hard I had no choice but to take my dick in my hand and get myself off while I listened to you. I finished before our phone call did.”

“Oh.” Her chest rose and fell faster now, and her smooth, bare thighs were squeezed tightly together. “You did that, just from my voice?”

“All I need when it comes to you.”

She looked down, licked her lower lip, then her eyes were on him again. “I like your voice, too.” He glanced over at her. “After you hung up…I…”

“You what, baby?” His cock throbbed behind his zipper, hard enough he could barely think straight, because he knew what she was going to say. And he needed to hear her say it more than he needed his next breath.

“I slid my hand down the front of my panties and…got myself off.”

“Yeah?” He swallowed hard. “You play with your clit?”

“Yes.”

“Did you come from just that, or did you push your fingers inside, imagine my cock moving inside you?”

“Yes.”

“Which is it, Foxy?”

“I used my fingers. I imagined you were inside me.”

Jesus fucking Christ. A groan slid past his lips, and he reached down to adjust his aching dick. “How many times you done that? Thinking about me?”

“A few,” she whispered.

“I love that, baby. I love that you told me that.”

He had to be a goddamned saint, because as much as he wanted her, he would not fuck her their first time while she was drunk….and he wanted her in a way that he had never wanted any other woman in his life.

But he didn’t get a chance to tell her, because when he turned her way again, she was out cold.





Chapter Eight

A loud, incessant buzzing sound came from down the hall. Rusty rolled to her back, letting out a groan when the movement had her stomach rolling. The buzz was cut off abruptly by a crash and a string of curses.

Piper was awake.

God, Rusty wished she weren’t.

Head thumping, she glanced down at herself. I managed to change into a T-shirt. That had to be some kind of miracle considering the state she’d been in.

How had they gotten so drunk? Then she remembered her and Piper’s never-ending rounds of tequila shots. “Idiots.”

The fuzzy feeling in her mouth was at an all-time high. Gross. Like a small rodent had crawled into her mouth during the night and died. She needed water, and she needed it now.

Her phone started ringing on her bedside table, she fumbled for it and put it to her ear. “Yeah?”

“You sound like shit.” Her brother’s voice echoed down the line, far too damn loudly.

“Thanks.”

He chuckled. “Just making sure you got home okay.”

“Looks that way…”

There was a bang on her door. “Get up,” Piper moaned.

“As much as I’d love to chat, I gotta go.”

“Rusty…”

“Talk to you later.” She hung up on Deacon before he started one of his annoying “why we should respect alcohol” lectures, and flung her phone aside. Though in this instance, he was probably right.

Why had they done this when they knew they had work today? Dragging her sorry ass out of bed, she hung onto her head to fight the pounding dizziness and shuffled to the door, wrenching it open. Light streamed in from the living room window, and she winced.

Piper stood by her door, leaning against the wall, still in the clothes she’d been wearing at the club. Her blond hair was sticking up on one side and lipstick was smeared across her right cheek. “What the hell was I thinking?” she whispered.