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Plus, I refused to have Xena remain. I’d give it one more shot to ask my father to stay with Erin. At least I’d let Uncle Danny know what was going on. He’d keep an eye on his brother. However, I feared that wouldn’t be enough. A man like Madden killed for a living.
I rounded the corner, noticing the pilot making last-minute checks, the three men I’d… fucked already in a heated conversation. I’ll be damned if a lump didn’t form in my throat from the sight of them. On this unusually sunny day, they appeared like models headed for a shoot in their black-tinted sunglasses and matching jeans. Not rough and tumble riggers ready to get oil underneath their fingers.
I wasn’t certain whether to hang back and watch them or take charge. The concept of eye candy would wait. We had a lot of work to do in a little over twenty-four hours. I refused to disappoint my father under any circumstances. I adjusted my sunglasses, taking long strides in their direction.
The three men stopped talking as soon as I approached, Jack’s jaw clenching. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew he continued to be pissed at what I’d said. I had to be the bigger person, or this wasn’t going to work.
Dang it.
Sucking up wasn’t my style.
Yet here I was extending my hand to the man. “Jack. I owe you an apology. I have no clue what happened all those years ago, but you paid a hefty price. I can’t judge you or anyone. That’s what my mama used to tell me.”
He glared at my hand and walked away instead of accepting the gesture.
Hudson shook his head as he continued watching the play-by-play action, but I was having none of this childish behavior. Even if I did start the fight myself.
I tromped off toward Jack, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Don’t walk away from me. I was trying to apologize.”
“You were doing a shitty job if you ask me.”
It was the kind of push and pull that Foxx had given me, the same one where I’d wanted to knock Foxx’s block off and had tried. My palm itched to slap the smugness off the man, but I resisted. This time. “Then why don’t you tell me how I can make it up to you, Jack Ford, also known as the best oil rig mechanic in America. And quite handsome too.”
“Buttering me up, sugar britches?”
“If that’s what it takes to cut your attitude, then sure, honey bunches.” I planted my hand on my hip, giving him the kind of onceover that immediately made the bulge between his legs thicken. Of course, I was aware I was playing with fire, but I wasn’t the kind of chick who cared about risks or rules. These three men brought out the bad girl in me.
“Careful, little girl. You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
“Oh, I think I do, big boy. So why don’t you tell me what kind of apology you will accept.”
He took a few seconds, rubbing the scruff on his chiseled jaw. He was the kind of man who’d look good wearing anything.
Or nothing.
My nipples ached ridiculously at the sinful thought.
“Here’s how we do that in America,” he growled, yanking me against his heated body. As he crushed his mouth over mine, my natural instinct was to push him away, but damn if he didn’t smell like a hint of cigars, cinnamon, and a touch of leather. Let alone the taste of him was off the charts, the kiss reeking of passion. As he thrust his tongue inside, I was incapable of resisting him, finding myself sliding one arm around his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair.
He explored every centimeter of my mouth with his tongue, dominating mine easily. His was thick and hard, his cock pressing between my legs and I sensed I was getting wetter by the moment. My damp panties would be a reminder how much I’d enjoyed spending time with the three men. I even gyrated my hips back and forth to further taunt him.
When he finally broke the kiss, he grinned like an overgrown ape before stepping away. “Now, we’re even. That’s how we handle disagreements in America.” He turned on his heel and headed for the helicopter, his shoulders back and expressing an air of confidence as if he’d conquered me once and for all.
And a little bird inside my head told me that maybe, just maybe he had.
As I waited for the others to walk closer, I wasn’t surprised when Foxx grabbed my arm, yanking me closer. His whisper was almost harsh, definitely meant only for my ears.
“I thought you said we were finished, little miss sunshine, but here’s the thing. It’s not over until we say it is and I say it’s not over by a long shot. Get ready. Because you will surrender to all of us.”
Jesus.
With that he walked away, swaggering as if he owned the rig we were about ready to fly to.
And all I could do was shiver with desire.
The aging oil rig had definitely seen better days. While what my father called the ‘nightshift crew’ had done their best to try to clean the decks and quarters from our recent two-month stint, there was no hiding the rust or wear and tear on the mechanics.
Or the drills.
