Dirty Ride_Blue Collar Bad Boys Read online

  I freeze midstep. Dream what now?

  Then his teasing grin hits me and my panties melt. I never knew that was a real thing before, but I swear to God, I am so fucking hot and wet, it feels like they’re going to melt in a puddle at my feet.

  His voice is low and he has this Southern twang that makes every word out of his mouth sound sexy. “What can we do for you?”

  I once again regain control of my legs and walk to the counter where he’s come to stand, leaning forward so that megawatt smile is aimed at me in full force. God, he has the sexiest grin. There’s something knowing about it. Not cocky, necessarily, but it’s confident and assured. Like he knows he’s hot as hell and he’s just fine with it.

  Like he knows that I give myself an orgasm every night thinking about him and he’s more than happy to make my dreams a reality.

  I give my head a shake. I’m being ridiculous. For all I know this guy has a girlfriend or a wife or something—although if he does, I can’t imagine when he sees her because he always seems to be here at the garage.

  He’s waiting for me to talk and I open my mouth to do just that. I’m a big girl, I can do this. I can handle a simple transaction with a man, sexy or not.

  But then the other one steps out from the office. He pauses in the doorway just behind the friendly one so they’re both there watching me. Waiting for me to speak. The big burly intimidating one hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he walked out of that office and I can feel his gaze on me, raking over my body, my face, taking in every detail with a quiet, intense focus.

  Being the object of that undivided attention is disarming. I’m not used to men looking at me like that.

  I’m not unattractive, I know that. But I don’t go out of my way to dress sexy or wear lots of makeup or anything. If anything, I sort of go out of my way to not draw attention to my looks. Life in a mostly male office tends to be easier if I’m not drawing unwanted attention.

  Too much time passes and I realize they’re still waiting for me to speak.

  The friendly one takes pity. Coming around the counter in his grease-stained overalls, he wipes his hands on a rag. “I hope we don’t make you nervous, sweetheart. We’ve been hoping to meet you for some time now but you always seem to be in a hurry.”

  I nod quickly. “Yes, I, uh—” Shit. It had never even occurred to me that they might acknowledge the fact that I pass by here every day. Somehow in my mind it’s me watching them. I never really thought that they paid me much mind. I wasn’t even sure they’d recognize me.

  I glance at the big one over smiley’s shoulder and bite my lip. “I’m always coming to or from work.” I give a helpless shrug. “Never much time to chat, I guess.”

  I’m rewarded by another slow, sexy grin from the nice one. The other one? Who the hell knows what he’s thinking. Despite the fact that it’s spring and not super hot yet, he’s wearing a cut-off T-shirt that reveals muscular arms—we’re talking major muscles, not the kind one typically sees in real life.

  Or not the kind I’ve seen, anyway. But then again, I’m usually surrounded by lawyers or finance guys. Not exactly the venue for it, I suppose.

  “Well, you’re here now,” the nice one says. “What can we do for you?”

  My nighttime fantasy rears up in my mind, vivid and detailed. You can bend me over the hood of that car right there, if it’s not too much trouble.

  Oh shit. Now my face is turning red and I still haven’t told them what I’m doing here. Panic makes my adrenaline rush. Is it too late to turn back? Abort mission. Abort mission!

  But it’s too late to run now so I force myself to swallow, ignore the heat in my cheeks and spit it out already. “It’s my car,” I said. “It’s not starting and I was hoping you guys could take a look at it.”

  Take a look under my hood.

  I mentally roll my eyes at my silly inner voice which has suddenly turned risqué with its humor. Wonderful timing. Or maybe it’s just the nerves talking. The big one is still watching me and I can’t quite bring myself to meet his gaze.

  “Of course, sweetheart,” the chatty one says in that drawl that would make Matthew McConaughey proud. “Where are you parked?”

  I tell him the garage on the end of the block and he and the other one head toward the door. Just like that.

  “We’re going now?” I ask.

  “Of course. You need our help, you’ve got it.”

  I blink up at him as I walk between them. Well that’s just… wow. I’ve lived in this city for two years but I hadn’t made many friends. Definitely not a lot of people who would drop whatever they’re doing to help me.

  On the way there, my tensions ease a bit as Axle, the friendly one, asks me some questions about when it stopped working, sounds it made, and things like that. I answer to the best of my ability, the questions a nice distraction from the fact that I’ve got two sexy hotties on either side of me, walking so close I can feel their body heat.

  If only Jane could see me now.

  I wonder briefly if there’s any way I can surreptitiously take a selfie of the three of us for proof, but rule it out. I’m just not that stealthy.

  The parking garage is largely empty of people and our voices echo in the cavernous space as I lead the way to my car. Well, my voice and Axle’s echo. The big guy—Axle introduced him as Dyce—he has yet to say a single word.

  But holy cow, his presence can be felt. He radiates heat and his big, bulky arm brushes against mine as I try to walk between them without touching anyone.

  I fail. But I don’t think it’s necessarily my fault. They’re so close. So freakin’ close. It’s hard to breathe they’re so close.

  By the time we stop next to my dead car, I’m so focused on the feel of them, the smell of them, it’s a struggle to think of anything else.

  Axle slaps his hands together and gives me that mouthwatering, panty-melting. “All right, sweetheart, let’s see what you’ve got under your hood.”

  Chapter Two

  Axle

  Watching Charlotte blush might be my new favorite activity. The pink color comes and goes as she talks to us, her gaze dropping whenever the flush appears, creeping up her neck and making me wonder just how far that blush goes. It disappears beneath that crisp, button down shirt of hers and I’d give just about anything to tear those buttons off to watch the rosy pink hue spread over those luscious tits.

  And that would just be the start.

  I don’t trust myself to look at Dyce. He and I have been lusting after this woman for years. I know he’s hurting just as bad as I am right now. And holy shit, am I hurting. My cock is so hard it could cut metal. That tight pencil skirt shows off her curvy hips and molds to her ass, like she’s offering it up on a platter.

  It was like a dream come true when walked into our place. After all these years of fantasizing about her, our dream woman came to us.

  Hell, the highlight of our day was waiting for her to walk by, and when she did it was always worth it. No matter what she was wearing, or how studiously she avoided eye contact, just the sight of her was a reminder that there was good in the world. There was beauty and sweetness, and maybe one day we’d have a taste of that in our lives.

  Since Dyce and I got out of active duty in the Middle East, we’ve needed reminders of that. She might not know it, but our fantasy woman—Charlotte, we finally have a name for her—she’s been our daily reminder that there’s some good left in this world.

  How do we know she’s so good and sweet? It’s in her eyes, it’s in her smile—that little one she wears when no one is watching. It’s in the way she blushes, all innocence in a dirty, hardened world.

  Not to mention the way she looks. Fuck, no one woman should have so much sex appeal. She clearly tries to hide it with that corporate look, but that only makes it more appealing. She’s got the sexy librarian thing going on, but it’s combined with an innocent schoolgirl vibe and a classic beauty that can never be hidden.

  Basically, she’s g
ot it all. She’s our perfect package.

  And now she’s talking to us. Finally.

  I say ‘us’ because Dyce and I like to share. It started when we were in the military. We became the best of friends and we got used to sharing everything. When we left, it carried over to our civilian life. We share a loft over the garage, we share a business—two businesses now that our limo business is under way. In a weird way it just seemed to make sense that we’d share women.

  But we’re still looking for one who would stick around. We’re not for everyone—we were too rough around the edges for some, too possessive for others. What it all comes down to was that we just haven’t found the right fit. We haven’t found the perfect woman to complete the threesome we’ve been looking for.

  Charlotte peeks up at me from beneath long lashes, her cheeks still stained pink from my “let’s look under your hood” comment. Yeah okay, maybe I’d made it sound a little suggestive. Sue me, I love to watch her blush.

  Dyce is already on the case and I hope against hope that it’s something serious. Not that I wish ill on Charlotte—quite the contrary—but I want an excuse to see her again.

  See, the thing is, much as we’ve been lusting after Charlotte from afar, Dyce and I had agreed that we wouldn’t pursue her, not unless she gave us a reason to. Not unless she expressed some sort of interest.

  Why? Because she’s too good for us. I don’t mean that in a self-deprecating way. It’s not like Dyce and I suffer from low self-esteem. We don’t. We both know we have a lot to give some woman, some day. Just not this woman, and not today.

  Why? Because we’re still too fucked up. We saw too much and did too much… things that someone like her shouldn’t even hear about let alone be exposed to day in and day out. I wouldn’t have even had to see her blush or watch the way her gaze skitters away from eye contact to know that she’s an innocent.

  And me and Dyce? We don’t know the first thing about innocence. That’s why we love to watch her from afar. She’s a breath of fresh air in our otherwise dirty lives.

  But try telling that to my cock. Shit, I’m aching for her so bad. I can smell her soft perfume as she leans over the hood next to me, though I’m guessing by the cute look of confusion on her face that she has no idea what she’s looking for.

  Dyce walks around to where we’re both leaning and I see her stiffen. This isn’t shocking. A lot of people, men and women, are intimidated by Dyce. Hell, I’d be scared if he wasn’t my best friend. Dyce is one terrifying motherfucker.

  But he’s also a good guy. She’s got nothing to fear from him. I can tell by looking at him that he’d rather stab himself in the gut than accidentally brush up against her and risk bruising that soft, pale skin of hers.

  I think of her as an angel—a fucking sexy angel—but Dyce? Well, I’m pretty sure he thinks she’s the fucking Madonna. He’d get on his knees and pray to her if he knew it wouldn’t scare the crap out of her.

  I glance over at my burly friend and grin. Hell, he’d probably do more than pray if he was on his knees in front of her. We both would.

  My grin turned to a grimace as I fight back a groan. Oh, sweet Jesus, I have to stop thinking dirty thoughts like that or I’ll cum in my pants. That was it. No thoughts of eating out that pussy until I’m home alone with my cock in hand.

  Too bad my cock doesn’t listen to reason. At that moment, Charlotte leans over again and I catch a glimpse of heaven.

  Holy fuck, her tits are even more amazing than I’d dreamt. My mouth goes dry as I shoot my gaze up, making eye contact with a scowling, judging Dyce.

  As if he wouldn’t have snuck a peek if she’d leaned over in his direction.

  When she straightens, Dyce addresses her for the first time. “Looks like your transmission is busted. We’re going to have to tow it back to the shop.”

  Her pretty lips turn down in a frown as she nods. “How long do you think it’ll take to fix it?”

  “That depends on whether we need to order you a new one.”

  She nods again and I’m glad to see that she doesn’t show any outward signs of discomfort at Dyce’s voice. Some women seem to be turned on by his low growl while others are scared off by it.

  It was hard to tell with Charlotte. She still sported a bit of a blush, but I can’t tell what’s going on in that brain of hers.

  I jerk back in surprise when she bursts out with a curse.

  “Fuck.” She clamps her mouth closed again as Dyce and I exchange a look of surprise. Somehow I’d never imagined this sweet angel on earth cursing.

  It’s fucking hot as hell.

  “Is everything all right?” I ask, casting another quick glance at Dyce.

  She gives us a tight smile. “Yeah, it’s fine.” She takes a long deep breath. “Just fine,” she mutters.

  Dyce raises his brows at me over her shoulder. Clearly everything is not fine. Obviously Dyce is not going to be the one to carry this conversation so it comes down to me. I scratch the back of my neck, trying to figure out how to pry without seeming like I’m being nosy. “Uh, if there’s anything we can help you….”

  Her head snaps up as she looks at me. I get the distinct impression she’s been lost in thought and whatever those thoughts are, they’re not pleasant.

  She gives me another small, tight smile that wouldn’t have convinced a blind man. “It’s fine, really. I’ll figure something out.”

  She spins on her heel and heads toward the parking garage exit.

  “Hey, what’s your number?” I call after her.

  She turns back and trips over her own feet as yet another blush creeps up her neck. “Um, what?”

  “How can we get a hold of you when your car’s fixed?” I ask.

  “Oh, right.” She shakes her head and gives a short laugh. “Sorry. I forgot.” She heads back toward us.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask.

  She nods quickly. “Yeah, I was just hoping I’d have the car this weekend. I have a work thing and—” She cuts herself off when she glances at Dyce, who’s looming over her. “You know what? Never mind. I didn’t mean to burden you with my problems.”

  “Not at all,” I say. I’ll admit it. I don’t want her to stop talking. I love the low, husky sound of her voice. It makes me think of her lying in bed in the morning, all tousled and satiated after a long night of lovemaking.

  Not only that, but I have this weird desire to help her. I’m no saint, but at this particular moment I want to be this woman’s fucking knight in shining armor. Jesus, this lady has a crazy effect on me. “Maybe we can help,” I say.

  She tilts her head to the side as if I’d just spoken Greek. “How?”

  Dyce speaks up. “We have a limo service. If you need a car, we’d be happy to help.”

  I stare at Dyce. Well, fuck me. That was the most he’s spoken in ages and he’s managed to sound fucking eloquent, not his usual grunts and cursing, which made up most of his dialogue.

  Charlotte seems just as stunned. She stares up at him with wide eyes. “I couldn’t afford that,” she says. “I’ll just rent something or—”

  “Free of charge.” The words just kind of tumble out of me. Dyce’s mouth twitches and I just know he’s going to take the piss out of me later for my awkwardness around our dream girl. But shit, I don’t care about making some extra money with the limo service. That’s just a side gig, anyways, and this girl… well, she clearly needs some help.

  And if it meant spending some more time in her company…

  Her brow furrows as she gives me a quizzical look. “I couldn’t accept that offer.”

  “Why not?” Dyce asks.

  She looks from me to him and then back again, her lips parting but no words coming out. She doesn’t have a good answer.

  But if she continues to stand there with her lips all full and parted like that, I’m not going to be able to resist kissing her. I shake off the thought. “Yeah, why not?” I ask, repeating my friend.

  “It
’s too much. I can rent a car.”

  “But why do that when you’ve got two strapping young men at your beck and call?” My teasing is rewarded by another blush and then—oh hell, she went and licked her lips.

  I was a goner. I’d have to go out and find some chick to fuck just to get rid of this case of blue balls. No amount of cold showers or hand jobs is going to help now. I am too far gone.

  But no other woman would be good enough. Sleeping with another woman would be like eating some sugar-free crap when what I really want is the fucking donut. It wouldn’t satiate me and it sure as hell wouldn’t give me the rush I was looking for.

  I knew that, but what else could I do? This woman was off limits, we’d decided that from the start.

  “What do you need the car for?” Dyce asks.

  She blinks up at him, her eyes wide but not filled with fear, thank God. “A work thing,” she says, her voice soft and sweet.

  I leap on that. “Well, if it’s for work, there’s no way you can refuse.” I gave her my best ingratiating smile, the one my mama used to say could charm the skin off a snake. “Come on, sweetheart. Let us help you. We want to.”

  She blinks at me and I can see the wheels spinning, no doubt trying to come up with a reason to say no and failing. “Um, okay.” She bites her lip and my cock strains against my jeans.

  Holy shit, I’ll been dreaming about biting that lip tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Charlotte

  I should have said no. I don’t know what I was thinking.

  Actually, I hadn’t been thinking. My brain had a terrible tendency to go blank around those guys. An hour had passed and even as I soak in my tub and sip my wine, I can’t stop thinking about them.

  Overanalyzing, really. They’d been so sweet, but also so… not sweet. Did that make sense? Probably not. They’d been attentive and kind—really, offering to chauffer me around for free? Who did that?

  But there was something in their eyes when they looked at me that made me hot and cold all at once. It wasn’t a bad feeling. It wasn’t like the sick feeling I got in my stomach every time I caught Clint staring for too long.