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“Is that when you fall in love with your secretary?”
He was back on me in an instant.
“No, Nevada. Never. Now you are going to get a spanking, you bad little girl.”
I squealed and tried to get away. He was laughing as he held me over his knee and gave me three loud smacks. Then he leaned down and kissed the sting away.
“But we can always play secretary. Let’s try that in Paris.”
He rolled on top of me, our bodies coming together perfectly, as usual.
“Would you like to go on a business trip with me, Ms. Jones? We don’t have to tell my fiancé.”
He looked offended when I cracked up. I stopped laughing a few minutes later as he slid inside me.
He had a way of getting my attention.
We slid together, moving seamlessly in a way that maximized both of our pleasure. It wasn’t long before I was crying out, climaxing hard as he ‘make love’ to me hard and dirty. He hoisted up my thigh and circled his thumb on my clit until I was begging to stop coming.
A few minutes later he joined me. We lay there, both of us a quivering mess. Until I snuck under his arm to grab my textbook. I read a few paragraphs before he noticed.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
He rolled me over and started kissing his way down my body.
“Clay! I thought we had to pack?”
“You provoked me. It can’t be helped.”
“By reading?”
He looked up at me and grinned before pressing a long, deep kiss between my thighs.
“By breathing.”
Frannie and Jace
I never wanted a girl like this. She’s different. Special. And she’s got crazy curves I can’t forget.
Frannie Turner spends all her time with her nose in a book. It's been a few years since she graduated High School, but the way boys treated her back then has made her shy away from dating. It was almost as if she didn’t exist.
She hasn't even noticed that she's grown into her curves, and that her big wide eyes, wild curls and tawny skin have got the attention of every male she comes in contact with.
Never mind the fact that she finally figured out how to use a diffuser.
Jace Singleton hasn't lived a charmed life. Nothing has been handed to him and he likes it that way. He works in his Uncle's auto shop by day and drag races at night. He's the only one on duty when the rich college girl comes in with the wild hair and even wilder curves.
He decides it's worth crossing to the right side of the tracks, at least long enough to score with the hot little book worm a couple of times. The last thing he expects is to fall in love with her...
Chapter Forty-Seven
Jace
The sun baked into my back, the hot metal tools stinging my hand where I gripped them. I wiped my forearm across my brow. My thick arm was dark with grease and tattoo ink.
My Gran always used to say that tattoos made a body look dirty.
That always made me laugh.
I hadn’t been clean since I was 14 years old. That was the first time I got inked. Now I was 24 and it was a regular occurrence.
A ritual you might call it.
So was getting drunk and racing souped up cars. Not at the same time though. I might be wild but I had no desire to end up mangled in a flaming hunk of metal.
I’d seen far too many people end up dead, or worse.
I was no dummy.
No matter what I looked like. Brainaic was definitely not on that list.
I worked hard at the shop and with the chores dad gave me around the house. But when it came to school, I never lifted a book. Didn’t have to. The answers just sort of came to me.
Not a schoolbook anyway. I did read. And not just Popular Mechanic.
Now I might have skipped a few papers here and there but as far as test taking, I was the ambivalent owner of a 4.o GPA back in high school.
Not that anyone would guess it from looking at me.
Grease monkey.
Criminal.
Dirt bag.
All of that was true and more.
If you asked me, I would tell you without even blinking.
And I’d say it with a shit eating grin.
My dad, me, all the guys at the shop, we took pride in being different. Breaking the rules.
Being real.
Not that it made my life any easier. But hell, what the fuck did that? We weren’t rich. And we didn’t want to be. We were free.
That was worth more than anything in my book.
I’d been offered big money to go legit and turned it down. More than once. I was happier where I was. Tinkering and racing my own creations. I loved designing hot rods. If I went mainstream I’d lose all that.
And that was
The ride I was working on was a labor of love. It was a special project I’d been working on during my lunch break and after hours for months now. She was a hot little muscle car with all kinds of crazy custom add-ons.
