Reading Online Novel

Revved (Axle Alley Vipers)(49)



He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the sliding doors. “I think we can tick another first off the list before morning, don’t you?”

She flushed with pleasure and laughed. “At least.”

Yeah, she was his, and he was never letting her go.





Chapter Seventeen

Rusty tightened her ponytail, pulled down her mask to stop the dust from getting in her nose and mouth, and cranked up the stereo. Choosing a coarse sandpaper, she started smoothing out the now dry body filler on the door panel she’d repaired the day before. It needed to go to the painters in the morning, and she also had a car booked in after lunch. With Alex busy on another car and Piper stuck in the office showing their new part-time office manager the ropes, they were a man down.

She’d planned to have lunch with Reid, but with how frantic it was here today, she’d just sent him a text to cancel. He’d texted back that he’d bring something to her.

That had made her stupidly happy. She’d seen him that morning, but already she missed him. She was turning into one of those girls. What self-respecting, independent woman missed their man after only a few hours apart? Humiliating. If Piper ever found out, she’d never hear the end of it.

But there was nothing she could do about it. She was addicted to the man, and the more she learned, the more time she spent with him, the more frequent she needed a Reid fix. “Jesus.”

She groaned and forced her thoughts back to her work. She couldn’t spend all morning like some sad, loved-up teenager waiting for her boyfriend to show up. Shaking it off, she directed her thoughts to the job at hand, she tuned everything out around her and started sanding.

But then the memory of a very different kind of job swam through her mind, a far more pleasant one, one that was accompanied by Reid’s low moans, his long fingers buried in her hair…

Okay, it wasn’t working, especially not with the delicious way her body ached. She still felt him between her thighs, remembered the way he’d moved inside her that morning, after she’d had him in her mouth. The intense way he’d stared into her eyes. The way his voice grew rough, almost harsh, as he’d whispered his dirty commands.

But her favorite part—the deep, guttural sound he’d made as he’d come, as if he couldn’t believe it was happening, as if nothing had ever felt as good. No one had ever felt as good. The man had quickly learned what she liked, shown her what she needed, and took immense pleasure in giving it to her.

She’d spent every night except Wednesday, when he’d had to work late, in his bed. Working through her list of firsts. Jesus, the man knew how to fuck. And that mouth, not only did he know how to use it, the filthy shit that came out of it—God, she loved it.

Things were moving fast, but she didn’t have any intention of slowing it down. She couldn’t get enough of him, the taste of his skin, the sound of his voice, the way he touched her, the way he groaned her name when she took him into her mouth. She smiled to herself. The way he called her Foxy, sometimes serious, sometimes with amusement shining in his eyes.

She was a goner. She’d fallen hard for the man and there was nothing she could do about it, nothing but ride it out and hope like hell she didn’t crash into a barrier at a hundred miles an hour and explode into a fiery wreck. Maybe that was on the overly dramatic side, but she got the feeling losing Reid wouldn’t be easy to come back from.

And definitely not something she wanted to be thinking about.

Running her hands over the door panel, she changed to a finer grade sandpaper to finish it off, and continued to work, dust coating her arms and clothes. She was just finishing up when the music suddenly dropped in volume. Turning toward the door, she saw her brother standing there, another suit with him. Deke offered her a grin. “Rusty.”

Brushing her hands on her shorts, she pulled off her mask and grinned back. “What are you doing away from your desk? I thought you were chained to that thing?”

He just shook his head at her, then motioned to the dude standing beside him. He was familiar, and just as recognition hit, her brother confirmed it. “You remember Brian Jamison, right?”

Rusty had to struggle to keep her jaw clamped shut and not let it fall open. She hadn’t talked to this asshole since her prom night. The last thing this douche bag had said to her, well screamed really, was “call off that crazy bitch.” Alex had been chasing him with a chair, swinging wildly, trying to get in a second shot. It was like saying his name out loud the other night to Reid had somehow summoned the piece of shit. He’d slithered out from whatever hole he’d been in and had come to darken her door. Rusty crossed her arms. “Yep, I remember.”