Read Online The Darkest Link (Second Circle Tattoos) by Scarlett Cole - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Scarlett Cole
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must include food, because I’m starving . . . and perhaps finding a replacement to this highly unoriginal car rental. Wait a minute, that’s all the dull and boring stuff. One night of fun, where we forget who we are, followed by breakfast and a farewell kiss because there is no way in hell I am leaving here doing the walk of shame.”
Reid held out his hand and she placed her car keys in them. He led them over to her car and took her cases out before walking them into the garage. The automatic lights flickered on, emitting a low hum. “Twenty-four hours”—he turned suddenly—“in which first I tell you just how broken your car is and you make dull and boring decisions about how you want it fixed. Once that’s out of the way, you let me take you upstairs, where, yes, I will feed you.” He took her chin between his thumb and finger. Unable to stop himself, he brushed his lips against hers, enjoying the way she shivered against him.
Fuck.
He wanted to take her here, on the cold gray concrete floor, where the smell of sweat and gasoline mingled. Or bent over the hood of her car wearing nothing but those heels. Forcing himself to stop, he pulled back and looked into her eyes. “After that, it’s fair game for however many hours we have left. And if you aren’t convinced of just how good my hands are by then, I will do the work on
your
baby for free. Deal?”
He was certain what her response was going to be, but he needed to hear her agree. She’d shown up at his place of work, had been blatantly honest about what she was looking for, and had kissed him in a way that made him desperate to unravel her, yet still the wait for her answer was painful. He leaned forward and sucked her lower lip into his mouth, biting it gently and running his tongue along it.
“Deal?” he asked again.
“Deal,” she said with a confident smile that warmed his insides for the first time in years.
CHAPTER THREE
“So, I used the strobe light to test here, and it looks like you have a problem with your rocker shaft,” Kenny said, pointing to some parts of the car she quite frankly couldn’t give a shit about, not when he was standing so close to her with his T-shirt off and his abs standing at attention. Perhaps it was just the mood she was in, but everything he said to her sounded like some kind of perverted euphemism rather than a fact-based discussion of what the hell was wrong with her car.
When she hadn’t been being chased down by her father, she’d been thinking about Kenny. Half the time she wondered what it would be like to ride behind him on his bike. In others, she had her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked her on the hood of her Plymouth. Her romantic daydreams had always been adventurous, sexual or otherwise.
“I gotta tell you, I love what’s under this hood. It’s a 350 CID Golden Commando engine . . . even has twin barrel carburetors.” He ran his hands over the hunk of metal like it was made of glass or something incredibly fragile, and between his pointed comments about rocker shafts and all things commando she wanted him to run his hands over her the same way. Images of them working their way down her ribs, across the flat of her stomach, until they . . .
“You okay there, Lia?” he asked. “Because you’re looking a little flushed there, Red.”
“In the spirit of full transparency, I was just wondering whether all car parts were named by men. Because I have to be honest, standing here with you, dressed like . . .” She gestured up and down his torso with her hand. “Well, everything started to sound incredibly like a sexual innuendo, and one more word or two, like dirty manifold or lubricated ducts, and I may not be able to control myself.”
Reid laughed. “You know what I like about you, Lia?” he asked but didn’t give her time to answer. “You say what’s on your mind. I find that incredibly refreshing.”
“So if I were to say to you that right now the status of my
Reid held out his hand and she placed her car keys in them. He led them over to her car and took her cases out before walking them into the garage. The automatic lights flickered on, emitting a low hum. “Twenty-four hours”—he turned suddenly—“in which first I tell you just how broken your car is and you make dull and boring decisions about how you want it fixed. Once that’s out of the way, you let me take you upstairs, where, yes, I will feed you.” He took her chin between his thumb and finger. Unable to stop himself, he brushed his lips against hers, enjoying the way she shivered against him.
Fuck.
He wanted to take her here, on the cold gray concrete floor, where the smell of sweat and gasoline mingled. Or bent over the hood of her car wearing nothing but those heels. Forcing himself to stop, he pulled back and looked into her eyes. “After that, it’s fair game for however many hours we have left. And if you aren’t convinced of just how good my hands are by then, I will do the work on
your
baby for free. Deal?”
He was certain what her response was going to be, but he needed to hear her agree. She’d shown up at his place of work, had been blatantly honest about what she was looking for, and had kissed him in a way that made him desperate to unravel her, yet still the wait for her answer was painful. He leaned forward and sucked her lower lip into his mouth, biting it gently and running his tongue along it.
“Deal?” he asked again.
“Deal,” she said with a confident smile that warmed his insides for the first time in years.
CHAPTER THREE
“So, I used the strobe light to test here, and it looks like you have a problem with your rocker shaft,” Kenny said, pointing to some parts of the car she quite frankly couldn’t give a shit about, not when he was standing so close to her with his T-shirt off and his abs standing at attention. Perhaps it was just the mood she was in, but everything he said to her sounded like some kind of perverted euphemism rather than a fact-based discussion of what the hell was wrong with her car.
When she hadn’t been being chased down by her father, she’d been thinking about Kenny. Half the time she wondered what it would be like to ride behind him on his bike. In others, she had her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked her on the hood of her Plymouth. Her romantic daydreams had always been adventurous, sexual or otherwise.
“I gotta tell you, I love what’s under this hood. It’s a 350 CID Golden Commando engine . . . even has twin barrel carburetors.” He ran his hands over the hunk of metal like it was made of glass or something incredibly fragile, and between his pointed comments about rocker shafts and all things commando she wanted him to run his hands over her the same way. Images of them working their way down her ribs, across the flat of her stomach, until they . . .
“You okay there, Lia?” he asked. “Because you’re looking a little flushed there, Red.”
“In the spirit of full transparency, I was just wondering whether all car parts were named by men. Because I have to be honest, standing here with you, dressed like . . .” She gestured up and down his torso with her hand. “Well, everything started to sound incredibly like a sexual innuendo, and one more word or two, like dirty manifold or lubricated ducts, and I may not be able to control myself.”
Reid laughed. “You know what I like about you, Lia?” he asked but didn’t give her time to answer. “You say what’s on your mind. I find that incredibly refreshing.”
“So if I were to say to you that right now the status of my
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