High Speed Hunger (3 page)

The raucous atmosphere had quieted down since she'd taken Pop home. Only a few of the staff remained at the table. Jennifer and Ty were gone—maybe the ungrateful bitch decided him being Jamaican wasn't all that bad after all. The thought of him looking at Jennifer the way he'd looked at her made her feel even worse. Jennifer wasn't good enough for him.

Bobby was gone too, and she didn't really give a shit.

"Get me a drink, will ya Mak? I need to visit the ladies room."

Mak stared at her bandaged ear. "Sure thing, boss. What happened to you? Got tangled up with an ol' gater, did ya?"

She laughed. "Close enough."

"Corona?"

"No. Something stronger, please."

Mak smiled, yet he seemed to have a guilty expression as well. He looked away and hollered to the bartender.

As Eileen made her way to the washroom at the other end of the bar, she eyed a couple making out in a corner booth. A new dash of hopelessness weighed on her shoulders. Too long had passed since she felt needed. Even though she'd dated Bobby for a year, the passion had dwindled months ago.

A noise coming from the ladies washroom made her pause. Sure enough, some lucky girl was getting laid in there. Soft moans leaked through the door, instigating a heady ache between her legs. How long had it been since she made love? She couldn't even remember. But when the hushed words of a familiar male voice resounded from the room, a nauseating ball twisted in her stomach.

Quietly, she pushed open the door and stepped inside, careful not to make a sound. She rounded the corner where the stalls were and spotted Bobby's boots standing behind a pair of high-heeled shoes.

"Oh-oh-oh. Oh, fuck. Yes. Fuck me harder."

Tears pooled in her eyes as she recognized Jennifer's voice. She should've known by their actions earlier that this would happen.

Wet sounds of their bodies joining permeated the air. She choked back a sob, unable to stop herself from imagining how they looked behind the stall.
How could he do
this to me?

"Yes, you like that don't you, you dirty slut? God, your cunt is tight. I'm gonna fuck your ass just as hard too." Bobby's voice echoed hollow off the near empty restroom walls.

Something inside Eileen snapped. She wanted to scream and lash out, but it hurt too badly to deal with it now. She needed to be alone. Needed to cry in private.

She ran from the room, past the staff table, not bothering to look at them. They knew what was going down. She got in her car and sped off the lot.

Only one place in the world existed where she could find solace.

Chapter Four

Eileen entered through the back door of the shop, the clicking of her pumps echoing through the large, open space. Although her heart ached from what she'd just witnessed, she couldn't help but feel better in her familiar surroundings. She grew up here. Spent many hours after school, a wide-eyed girl watching the team prepare for a race. As she grew into a woman, soon her father had her doing odd jobs, and after a lot of hard work and perseverance, she became his business partner. She loved it here; this was her home.

One thing that never changed in the shop was Pop's favorite neon, pin-up girl signs. Together, they cast a multi-colored glow about the room, so she left the overhead lights off. The atmosphere washed over her, giving her a sense of relief—if any could be had on a night like tonight.

She wandered through the shop, taking in the environment she loved, allowing her childhood memories with her father to soothe her aching heart. She shouldn't be surprised by what she saw, but she didn't expect to catch her boyfriend fucking the secretary . . . especially when her staff was there in the damned bar.

Bobby acted as though she was his rock, and yet, he clearly had no issues slaking his needs elsewhere. How could a man do that to a woman he supposedly loved?

Maybe all this time he'd used her to keep him in good graces with her father. That thought
really
hurt. Even though she didn't love Bobby, she did care about him.

She'd worked her ass off to keep this place going, ensuring the books were on par and the staff happy, all the while, taking care of Pop who nearly gave up on life.

Bobby was a handful as well, constantly partying, and she had to keep on his ass to stay focused. How much more bullshit could she take?
No more. Never again.

Jennifer needed to get lost before she strangled the bitch with her bare hands, but what about Bobby? Pop loved him like a son, and he had a contract.

Flustered, she shook off her jacket and tossed it over a nearby toolbox. Needing to relax and forget her troubles, she pulled her blouse out of her skirt as well, letting it fall casually over her blue mini. Maybe she could sleep in one of the cars for tonight in case Bobby tried to go to her apartment. She didn't want to see him. Tomorrow she'd deal with both of them.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she took in this place she loved. Where did her life go wrong? Was she
that
focused on work that she'd forgotten about her own pleasure?

Pleasure.
A vivid image of Ty looming seductively over her in his attempt to kiss her made her neck and face heat. When Bobby kissed her, it was familiar. When Ty simply grazed his lips at the corner of her mouth, her body reacted as if awakened from a deep sleep.

Eileen kicked off her heels and strolled over to the boom box. She spun the dial to her favorite radio station and turned up the volume. Aretha Franklin's
Rescue Me
blared through the speakers.

A long time ago, when she was a little girl, she used to put on singing shows for Pop when he tinkered in the shop. Her singing and dancing always made him smile.

She grabbed a screwdriver from the counter and struck a pose on the shop floor.

Holding the handle of the screwdriver up like a microphone, she sang her heart out, knowing well what the words to the song represented. Shimmying her hips and raising her free hand above her head, she sang with heartache and desperation coiling in her soul. A sense of liberation guided her through the song as she pranced between the cars. She shouted into the handle as if she were in the spotlight on stage.

A sheen of sweat slicked her skin by the time the song ended. She hung her head, panting as loud clapping echoed through the room. She snapper her head up, and heat stung her cheeks when she saw Ty leaning against a hoist. He smiled, and her heart skipped into her throat.

The soft lilt of another sad love song settled between them.

Ty approached casually, his mouth crooked up in that sexy, wicked grin. "Do you need rescuing, Eileen?"

She blew out a shaky breath. "I can't believe you just saw that. How did you get in here?" How embarrassing to be caught singing and dancing like a twelve-year-old.

"Forgot where I live already?"

"Oh. Right." She looked away, her cheeks so hot the makeup was probably burning off her skin.

"What happened to your ear?" He raised his hand, but she stepped back. "Bobby didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, no. It was an accident in the car. Pop swung his hand out and his fingers hooked my earring. You can see the outcome."

His face took on a painful expression. "Ouch. Here, let me take a look."

"No, no. It's fi—"

He closed the distance and gently removed the bandage, while she breathed in the intoxicating scent of vanilla spice and pure man. She stayed still as a board, hoping he didn't notice her trembling from his nearness. Everything about him set her body afire. How embarrassing. The boss should be calm and in control, not wet between her legs and fumbling for words.

"No need to be shy, sweet Eileen. I'm not going to hurt you."

"That's not what I'm afraid of . . . ."
Shit.
She hadn't meant to say that.

"Oh?"

She cleared her throat and tried to dance around the subject. "So, are you excited about your test drive tomorrow?"

Ty chuckled, a deep, sensual sound that seemed to flow like silk from his delicious mouth. She closed her eyes and exhaled when his breath tickled her injured ear. The subtle heat eased the sting.

How could he be so calm and cool, when inside she was like an over-boiling pot?

Maybe that's what she needed: somebody with nerves of steel, who could take care of her.
Really
take care of her.
Stop thinking that, you fool.

"More nervous than anything."

"Why?" She felt the sudden tension in his body and wondered if she touched on a sore subject.

"I watched my father die in a car crash back in Jamaica."

She sucked in a sharp breath and opened her eyes. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry—"

"It's okay. You didn't know."

"Was he a racer?"

Ty smiled broad and proud. "One of the best . . . well, the bleeding has stopped."

"What?" She stared up at him and was shocked to find his face hovering so close to hers. His height and width crowded her, but she didn't feel fear, she felt . . . heat.

"Your ear. It stopped bleeding. You have a little tear but you'll be happy to know you won't be a one-earring woman."

"That's . . . good."
That's good? Ugh. I'm such an idiot.

He cupped her shoulder. Eileen looked at his hand, so dark against the paleness of her exposed skin. The contrast turned her on.
Jesus. I'm acting like a nervous teenager.
"I

. . . um . . . why did you come down here?"

His smile was simply delicious. "I heard the music; I had to investigate. I'm glad I did. You put on a great show."

"When did you leave the tavern?"

"Shortly after you. I'm not much of a partier."

She looked down at his Lugz boots, unable to look in his eyes. Knowing he wasn't a partier was important to somebody like her, who constantly looked after her father and Bobby. His hand appeared in her line of vision and she looked up.

"Dance with me."

An Old Fashioned Love Song
played in the background. "To this?" She giggled, thinking he was joking with her.

"Why not? Do you need an old-fashioned guy, Eileen?"

The way he said her name with that sexy as hell accent made her skin tingle.

"Okay." She placed her shaky hand in his and felt an instant connection. His big hand curled around hers and the other came around her waist, as if he had every right to hold her close. She drifted into his embrace; pressing her cheek against his chest felt so natural. Following his smooth guidance, she sighed and closed her eyes. He had a way about him she couldn't ignore. Mesmerizing. Suave. Calm and cool. Protective.

All negative thoughts of Bobby faded away and just the two of them were there, in the garage, holding each other. After a while, she looked up and smiled. "I can't remember when I danced last. Bobby never—"

"Shhh . . . leave him out of this."

Eileen swallowed nervously, lost in his dark, piercing stare. But this time, when he leaned in to kiss her, she didn't shy away. His full lips brushed hers, and an instant, needy ache pooled between her thighs. A moan tumbled from her lips, and she allowed herself to be enveloped in his undeniable passion. Never before did a man make her feel so hot from a single kiss.

Without a thought to her actions, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him hard against her. Maybe pain fueled her desires, or maybe she just needed to feel treasured. Either way, she clung to him like a lifeline.

Ty groaned and thrust his hips forward, giving her a taste of the erection straining in his pants.

She had never been a bold woman, never acted on impulse. But tonight was different. She'd been cheated on, embarrassed and hurt beyond compare, and right now, Tyrone Ellis made her feel desirable. Instinctively, she reached between them and grasped his hard cock.

They both panted in unison.

"Is this what you need, Eileen?"

Reality snapped back. She dropped her hand and stepped away. What had she done? He probably thought she was easy now. "I can't. I—do you feel sorry for me? Is that why you came down here?" She turned away, trying to sort through her confused feelings. When she turned back to face him, Ty looked shocked and maybe a little hurt.

The urge to throw herself at him called to her, but she held back. "Please don't tell me you're using this situation to take advantage of me—"

"I'd never do that to you, Eileen. I'm not that kind a guy." He lifted his hands in a gesture of defeat. "I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone."

He turned to leave, and a sick feeling consumed her, swirling in her stomach.

"Wait."

Ty halted his steps, and after a long moment, he turned back. Her heart tripped when she saw the expression on his face. Like he'd just lost everything he held most dear. "What is it that you want from me, Ty? Is it just sex?" She tried to hide her pain, but even to her own ears, her voice sounded weak.

"I want a lot more than that, Eileen. It's up to you what you choose to give."

A sob rose up in her throat, but she held it in check. Why didn't she meet this guy years ago, when everything was simpler? When she had time to fall in love? Life was such a bitch. "Bobby's out of the picture."

He looked relieved. "Good. He doesn't deserve you."

"I haven't had sex in a long time."

"Neither have I."

"It might be awkward."

His mouth tipped up at one corner. "I doubt it."

She fidgeted with the hem of her blouse. "I don't want to complicate things."

"Neither do I."

"Maybe it—"

He looked about to laugh. "If you don't feel comfortable, it's okay. I'd never think any less of you."

She should know better. Should politely excuse herself and walk away. But she couldn't. Instead, she lifted her hands to her blouse and started unfastening the buttons.

She needed this. Needed to free herself. What Bobby did was hurtful, but since the day she'd met Ty she'd wanted him. Now she could act on her desires without guilt

. . . and she wanted to feel cherished, if only for one fleeting moment.

Ty's gaze followed her actions. "Not here." Without another word, he closed the distance between them and scooped her up into his arms, swinging her up and over his shoulder. This was not what she imagined by way of seduction, but she clung to his strong shoulders for balance. She squealed with laughter as he dashed toward the stairwell to his apartment.

"Why not here?"

"Because you deserve much more than a quick bang in a dirty shop."

Despite hanging over his back and the scary ascend to his apartment, Eileen had a great view of his sexy ass. And soon she'd get a lot more.