Rough Hand (Rock Bridge Ruffians, Book One) Page 6

Oh, he and I are going to have words.

  Lucky for Levi, he’s out of the shop for the day, not due to return until right before we close. I keep to myself the rest of the day, silently stewing, rehearsing exactly what I’m going to say to him. The bastard knows he has me at his mercy. I can’t up and quit this job—I’m making too much here to do so.

  But I can’t let him try to control me like this. No, this shit has to end, now.

  Dusk falls, and the outside parking lot lights are on by the time Levi pulls his motorcycle into the lot. My heart gives that stupid, traitorous tug it always does when I see him. It’s unfair how sexy he looks today, his hair mussed, his bold eyes cool and unnerving as he glances around the shop.

  He gives me a courteous nod, and I try to give a civil one back, though I know it comes out looking stiff. He must not seem to notice my tension, because he just goes into the back to talk to the guys.

  Within five minutes, both Cade and Tommy cleared out of here, like the hounds of hell were on their heels. One of them must have let it slip back there that they told me about Levi’s warning.

  My stomach does a slow, anxious flip.

  After flicking our welcome light from open to closed, I step into the back and see Levi wiping a bike down with a soft cloth. He keeps his attention squarely on the chrome, his movements methodical.

  “Why did you tell them to not talk to me?” I ask.

  That makes him look up. He stops polishing the metal. “I didn’t tell them not to talk to you.”

  I cross my arms. “But you told them something, because now they’re treating me like I’m invisible.”

  “No, they’re treating you with respect, the way they’re supposed to.”

  My jaw ticks. “The way they treated me before was fine. You have no right to interfere in it.”

  Levi straightens up and stalks over to me. “I’m their boss. I have every right to tell them how they need to treat fellow employees.” His eyes are narrowing into slits as he stares at me.

  Well, let him get pissed. I’m mighty pissed too.

  “You’re making an awful lot of assumptions based on what you think I need,” I lob at him. “And that needs to stop. I can handle myself. I don’t want you doing it for me.”

  “Oh? So you want guys treating you like you’re a piece of meat?” His voice is little more than a quiet purr, but there’s a rumble of danger in it.

  “Neither of them did that, and you know it,” I retort.

  “But the guys at the salon were probably being over the top with you, weren’t they? I’ve been there. I’ve seen what happens. Where was your former boss to step in and control that? You didn’t want to be respected?”

  I want to yell at him about this, but he’s right. The salon was filled with men who had no problem “accidentally” brushing a hand against my hip, or slipping me their phone numbers…or even straight out asking me on a date.

  But my anger hasn’t subsided as I respond. “That still doesn’t give you the right to interfere in my life. You’re my boss and nothing else.”

  “So what you want from me?” He steps closer until his warm breath is panting on my forehead. His body is tight, and I feel like prey who’s just been spotted by a tiger. All coiled, tattooed muscles, just waiting to attack.

  And damn me, but the way he says that makes me want to kiss him. To taste his mouth again.

  “Answer me,” he says. One hand reaches out toward my arm then drops. “What do you want, Alexa?”

  I close my eyes, struggling with what to say. The truth is, he infuriates me with his stubbornness, with a protectiveness that seems dangerously close to jealousy at times, but I want him.

  And then his mouth is on mine, and he’s owning me with his kiss. My body molds to his, his hands gripping my hips, pressing me flush against his cock, which is bulging through his jeans. He growls and deepens the kiss, plunders my mouth, and I open for him.

  I tunnel my hands in his hair, all my emotions swirling in me—the anger, irritation, weeks of pent-up lust—and let it all out. Dig my nails into his scalp. Bite his lower lip.

  “Oh, you like it rough, dirty girl?” he pants. His eyes are dark, pupils wide, his jaw tight. If I didn’t feel how hard he was for me right now, I’d think he was furious, not aroused. Levi grips my hair at the base of my neck and pulls hard, and the small bite of pain that prickles my scalp makes my nipples bead.

  His tongue glides along my exposed throat, then he reaches the other hand up to cup my breast. The tip gets even harder from the ministrations of his expert fingers and thumbs, plucking and stroking me to a stronger arousal.

  I can feel my panties growing damp.

  I release his hair and run my hands along his back; his light shudders beneath my searching fingers spur me on.

  Levi mouths my neck, biting and licking and nibbling in alternative moves that leave me panting and gasping and aching for him to fill me.

  We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s so wrong. But God help me, I can’t stop myself.

  His hands move to my shirt and tug it up and over my head, then his hands are back in my hair and he’s kissing me again, possessing me with every stroke of his tongue, weakening my will and making me almost want to beg him to fuck me right here in the shop, on this oil-splattered floor.

  I don’t care if I’d get dirty. I want to get dirty with him.

  “God, you taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against my mouth. He sucks my chin between his teeth and nibbles, then moves down until he’s breathing over the thin lace of my bra. And then he’s capturing my nipple in a hot, wet kiss that curls my insides in the most delicious way.

  My pussy is throbbing, and it’s taking all my effort to not rub against him. “Yes,” I whisper, urging his head closer to my breast.

  He peels the cup down and takes my naked skin in his mouth, and I sigh with pleasure. God, he knows how to work that devilish tongue of his. His hand slides down to cup my mound through my jeans; I grind against his palm, seeking escape, seeking fruition. Tempting, broad sweeps across my clit aren’t enough.

  “Please,” I beg him. I’m not sure exactly what I’m begging for, only that I need more of whatever he’ll give me.

  He flicks my jeans open, undoes the zipper, then thrusts his hand into my panties. “Holy fuck,” he breathes, “you’re so beautifully wet. I want to fuck this pussy so hard that my dick aches for it.”

  His words make me shiver with longing. “I want it too,” I admit.

  One finger glides across my soaked lower lips into my pussy, and I gasp, clench around the digit. Oh God, oh God, that feels so good. On impulse, I reach down and cup his hardness through his jeans, and his raspy intake of air fills me with satisfaction and hunger.

  “I want to…” I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly feeling shy about what I want.

  Levi rises to his full height. His eyes are dark and heavy and intense on me. “What do you want? Tell me. Anything.”

  “I…” I lick my lips. “I want to taste you.”

  His groan is full of need. “Fuck. You’re going to kill me, sweetheart.”

  I move my hand experimentally over him, squeezing, stroking. I’ve had sex, yes. But not a lot. And I’ve only ever sucked a cock once. I didn’t really enjoy the experience; the guy was aggressive and treating me like a sex toy rather than a human being.

  But I want to try it again, with Levi.

  I drop down to my knees, my mouth lining up with his crotch. Look up at him.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers.

  Words catch in my throat. The raw honesty in his eyes right now, the way his fingers dance along my hair…there’s something else going on here other than just pure physical desire. Something deeply more intimate that I can’t quite identify, that I’m a little uncomfortable with.

  So I focus on him, on pleasing him. I unzip his pants and push them down his hips. He frees easily from the confines of his boxer briefs, and his dick is big and hard and hot and thr
obbing in my grip. I reach my tongue out to lick the top of his cock, which makes him buck his hips for a fraction of a moment.

  He stills himself, hands still on my hair, but not pushing my head toward him.

  A tension I hadn’t realized was in my chest eases. He’s giving me control over this, though I can see in his eyes how it’s torturing him. Delicious feminine power surges through me. I draw the head of his dick into my mouth, suck.

  I glide my tongue on the underside of his shaft, then use one hand to grip the base as I use the other to reach around and cup that rock-hard ass of his.

  And I slide him as far into my mouth as I can.

  Levi groans. “Oh, fucking… God… Yes…”

  All I want right now is to give him pleasure. Make him come. I need it more than I need anything else in this moment. I move back and forth, up and down, all along the shaft, stroking and licking as best as I can. Soon I start to realize which movements he responds to the most, so I focus on those.

  Swirling my tongue all around his prick, jerking the base of his cock as he groans and shivers.

  His dick pulses in my hand, which makes my pussy even wetter. If I didn’t have anything on, I’m sure I’d be dripping on the floor.

  “I…” His fingers twitch in my hair. “You should stop…”

  He’s giving me an out if I don’t want him to come in my mouth. But God, I want it so much now. I crave tasting it. I can’t stop. So I go faster, pumping him and sucking him, and then he stiffens and groans my name, and come is gushing across my tongue and filling my throat, and I swallow and lick and coax every fucking drop out of him.

  He tastes incredible. His come is hot and thick and salty, and the feeling of him in my mouth is beyond intimate and sexy.

  After a few moments, his body relaxes, and he sighs. Gently pulls out of my mouth; I release my grip on his cock. Levi looks down at me then reaches for my hand and tugs me up to standing. My knees ache a bit from kneeling on the hard ground, but I don’t care.

  Neither of us speak for a long moment. We just stare into each other’s eyes. Is this the moment he’s going to emotionally pull back from me like he did last time?

  Will I be able to keep my guard up if he does?

  When he reaches over and strokes my cheek with the backs of his knuckles, I feel something squeezing my heart, an invisible fist. I can’t breathe, can’t speak. Can’t tear my gaze away from his eyes, so open to me right now.

  “Thank you,” he whispers. “That was incredibly fucking hot.”

  I can’t help the smile that spreads on my face from his compliment. I zip and button my jeans. “Yes, it was.”

  Levi drops his hand and gives me a wicked grin. “Well, remind me to piss you off more often. That worked out well in my favor.”

  I roll my eyes but laugh, kind of glad for the lightening of the moment, but also kind of missing that intimate connection we just shared. “Don’t get in the habit of that crap, buddy.”

  When I shake my head and turn to leave, he swats me on the ass. “I owe you one,” he murmurs.

  “No, that just made us even,” I toss out over my shoulder.

  I finish my part of closing the shop, feeling warm, feeling strange, feeling unsure what is going on. Is this just physical between us? Is it more? Because a couple of times during all of that, I could have sworn there was a deeper connection happening.

  He and I aren’t even supposed to be doing this. He’s my boss. This is my job. But here we are, undeniably attracted to each other. And he insinuated it was going to happen again.

  Is it wrong that I want it to happen again, that I’d do just about anything to make sure of it?

  Levi

  Alexa’s warm voice fills the shop as she’s talking with a customer about various types of helmets. She’s only been here just over a month, but already she sounds like she knows what she’s talking about. I’m filled with pride for how quickly she’s acclimated here.

  Guess I gotta admit I was wrong about my first impression of her. Glad I changed my mind about her working for me. She really has been an asset, upselling customers and making us more money.

  Alexa works hard—I don’t think anyone else could have slipped into the position the way she has, and been as successful.

  I had a talk with the guys the day after the hot blowjob in the back room, telling them not to freeze her out, that I may have overreacted just a touch. Naturally, Cade picked up on what I was feeling and later asked me if my initial request for them to keep their distance was out of jealousy. I brushed him off, not ready to talk about whatever the fuck is going on with me and her.

  Because I really don’t know what it is.

  She and I haven’t had sex yet, but we have kissed. Several times. I’ve fingered and tasted her pussy, she’s stroked and tasted my dick, we’ve both left panting and wanting, yet neither of us pushing things further. I can’t help but wonder when we’re just going to explode. It’s sexual tension brewing, knowing we both want it but denying ourselves.

  Longest fucking foreplay ever.

  My poor balls are going to explode from needing release, though. Of course, I’ve jacked off, pumped my dick so many fucking times thinking about coming inside her. But it isn’t the same. Masturbation doesn’t satisfy the way her warm flesh would.

  “Levi?” she asks, breaking me out of my fantasies, stepping toward me with a female customer right behind her. “She has a question for you that I can’t answer. Can you help?”

  I rise from my desk and head toward them. “No problem.”

  The afternoon passes slowly, with Alexa and me bantering with each other, shooting the shit with the guys in the back, talking to other customers. The mood is light, fun, and I find myself whistling as I’m working on a bike clutch repair.

  This is the best I’ve felt in a long damn time, and I know who’s responsible for it.

  This sense of contentment in my soul is something I didn’t think was even possible.

  I’m lost in the job, enjoying focusing on the work, when Tommy comes over to me, his face as serious as I’ve ever seen it.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, standing up.

  His lips thin, and he swipes a hand over his thick beard. “I…found something out, man. Wanted to talk to you about it.”

  I follow him through the back door behind the building, where he pulls a pack of smokes from his pocket and shakes one out, lights it up. The smoke fills the air in front of his face. It’s partly cloudy out, with the sun hiding behind a patch of clouds and providing a touch of relief from the oppressive late summer heat.

  “What’s going on?” It’s not like Tommy to be this mysterious. Or this serious.

  He takes a long drag. “So, I found some stuff out about Alexa.”

  My chest tightens. Fuck. “Is it bad?”

  “Not like you think. Just hear me out.” The words come out as a smoky exhale. “I did a little online research about her. Was looking for her on Facebook to friend her and add her as an admin for our page like you asked me to, but she wasn’t on there, so I got curious. I typed her name in on Google and saw a number of online newspaper articles.” He pauses. “Back in early summer, her mom killed her father and then shot herself.”

  The news hits me like a physical blow. And instantly I know it’s true—it fits with everything. It makes sense.

  “Christ,” I mutter, running a hand over my face.

  “The article said Alexa and her sisters might have been killed if they’d been home, which apparently they were supposed to be, but she’d taken her sisters to the mall to buy birthday gifts for their dad.”

  Holy fuck. All the blood drains from my face, and my body stills. I can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t breathe.

  This hits far too close to home, and I have no idea how to process it all. A dark memory from my past tries to blink its way into my mind—blood everywhere, puddled all over the kitchen floor in thick, dark red blobs. No. Fucking no, I say to myself, shoving it back away.
Not right now. Not ever fucking again.

  Tommy nods and puffs on his cigarette. “Yeah. Fucking crazy, right? They speculate in the papers that her mom had some kind of mental breakdown or something, but no one knows the truth. She didn’t leave any notes behind, nobody saw that shit coming.”

  “Alexa never said a word,” I murmur quietly. Part of me is upset; another part of me recognizes how fucking hypocritical that is, given that I don’t talk about my past, either. But all the pieces are falling together now, her raw sadness whenever she talks about her family, why she’s the guardian for her sisters. Fuck me. And it just happened—how is she holding herself together?

  Tommy gives me a hard stare. “You okay, man? This is probably a shocker for you.”

  I never told Tommy about what happened with my mom. Not a lot of people know about it, actually. In fact, I blocked most of it from my mind, but I get the occasional snippets, flashes, that pop up out of nowhere. Usually it’s blood. Still, mine happened a long time ago. It’s not something that still affects me day-to-day…

  Well, at least not mostly.

  I shrug. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…processing it all.”

  The sun slides out from behind the clouds and warms the air even more. Sweat drips down my back from the stinging heat.

  Tommy smashes his cigarette against the wall then dumps it in the nearby ashtray I set up for him when he started working for me. “Back to the grind, I guess,” he says. “Just wanted you to know. Figured it seemed important enough to mention.”

  I nod and follow him inside, go back to what I was doing, but my mind is still spinning. I can hear Alexa up front, chatting with a customer about different handlebar options for a bike. My stomach is a mess of knots.

  I need to talk to her about this.

  It’s hard to keep from barging over and confronting her about it, but I make myself stay in place. More of the afternoon passes, but the mood is different than it was earlier. Tommy and I are quiet, and Cade seems to pick up on the shift in tone and doesn’t speak much, either.

  “Go ahead and head out early,” I tell the guys around five-thirty. I can’t wait anymore to speak to Alexa. “See you tomorrow.”