Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 129681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
He also ran his mouth twenty-four seven.
“This a joke? A test? Or is business runnin’ dry and you’re getting desperate? Thought we were booked solid for a year?”
Considering it was Saturday and we were all working double-time to keep up with the workload, the answer to that was obvious.
“Helping out a friend,” I said, giving him a look that told him the reason the car was there was none of his concern.
“She pretty?” he cracked.
“That required to do something nice?” I growled. Had to restrain myself from punching the scrawny punk in his smug face. But that would probably lay him out for the week, and I needed him on a ’63 Ford pickup that was set to roll next month.
He shrugged. “Hey, man, I just know what it takes to get a spot here, and you have me rollin’ up with an old sedan? You must be getting something out of it.”
I ignored him, and instead, I turned my attention to watch as Darius made a left into the lot in his black pickup truck.
Darius had only been with us for the last month. Guy was the opposite of Brock. Quiet and intense. Tatted and hard and nearly as big as me. Lost in thought most of the time, though he got the job done. He was a basic technician that’d come from one of the dealerships, but he was hungry to learn, and I was desperate for help.
Like Brock had said, we were booked a solid year, and I was turning away clients left and right.
Brock was moving to unlatch the chains on Salem’s car when Darius came to a stop and jumped out of his truck. “What’s going on?”
He stormed across the lot, his attention locked on the sedan.
Awesome.
I was gonna get shit from him, too.
Then I was stilling, tingles rushing my flesh as a shock of energy came blasting through the shop. As fierce as the storm from last night. I eased around to find Salem coming down the stairs from my loft above.
The breath knocked from my lungs.
Fuck me.
This girl was even prettier than I’d remembered from last night.
Crazy hot.
Wicked sexy.
Back in her clothes she’d been wearing last night, though her face was bare, and all that black hair was piled in a crazy knot on her head.
Nothing but a perfect fantasy floating down from my loft.
Figured it’d been the storm that had left that feeling zinging in the air, and it would have disappeared this morning.
This connection that made me want to explore something I knew damned well I shouldn’t explore.
Couldn’t explore.
But it was there, pulling through the atmosphere, vibrating along this invisible band that had us tied.
Neither of us could look away.
Thunderbolt eyes speared me from across the space, piercing me through and holding me hostage.
Wondered if anyone else noticed, the way we just fuckin’ stared.
Tangled in a beat.
Held in a moment.
Something powerful lit in my veins.
Need.
Possession.
Girl was nothing but an enchantress.
Black-fuckin’-magic.
Because what she had me feeling wasn’t possible.
“Ah, she’s pretty, all right.” Brock spewing his bullshit broke me out of the spell. “Knew you had to be gettin’ something out of it, and that something is fine as hell.”
Fuck the Ford.
I started to go for him except Darius had me grinding on the brakes when he charged Salem’s direction, his footsteps enraged. He stopped halfway to her, right in the middle of us.
His hands were clenched into fists as his attention darted between me and the girl.
Swore, he had murder written in his expression.
Knew that look well.
He turned that venom on her. “Salem, the fuck are you doing here?”
Well shit.
She told me she didn’t have a man waiting on her, and I had a feeling that things had just gotten messy and fast.
Had the urge to yank him back, stand between them, especially considering she’d come walking down like she’d been properly fucked when, unfortunately, that wasn’t even close to the way things had gone down.
Except Salem rolled her eyes in annoyance as she hit the landing and strode our way. All fierce fire and stormy conviction. “I called you fifteen times and texted you more. My car broke down.”
Darius’ eyes swept back to take in her car.
Brock was standing beside it, dude grinning like the fuckin’ Joker, laughing under his breath as he took in the scene. No doubt, he was eating up the tension.
The way Darius looked back at me like he was envisioning peeling the flesh from my bones.
“Tried calling you this morning,” Darius grated, though he was still glaring at me when he said it.
“My phone died, and I was asleep and safe because some nice guy stopped to help me in the middle of a downpour. That was it.”
“I bet he helped her,” Brock needled.
I spun and pointed at him, the threat whipping from my tongue. “One more, Brock, and I end you.”