The Deal Dilemma

Crew’s nose buries in my hair, skating along the base of my neck and drawing goose bumps to its surface. His mouth curves against its place at the tip of my spine, telling me he’s pleased, but still, I don’t budge, keeping my eyes closed, my body still.

He wasn’t lying when he said there would be more to follow, there was.

After the first time, my first time—good-freaking-bye, virginity!—we fell asleep, but the second I shifted in his arms, his hand left mine, and disappeared between my legs. He cupped me, pressing his fingers against my clit until it throbbed, pressing my ass into him. He rolled me onto my back then, and settled between my thighs, taking me slower than before.

It was a sweet suffering I’d welcome any day.

I had slept most of the night, so I had lain awake in his arms for a while before he woke to use the restroom, and when he came back, he was hard. I met him at the foot of the bed, and he effectively put me back to sleep.

Time has evaded me, the curtains drawn closed to keep even a guess from settling in, but for the last five minutes, Crew has been teasing, coaxing me to wake when I secretly have been for the last hour.

His lips press to my bare shoulder, down my arm, and then the bed dips, the heat of his body radiating onto me, telling me he’s half hovering above. It’s confirmed when his lips find my jaw, his hair tickling my temple.

“I know you’re awake, Sweets,” he whispers. “Open those eyes and let me fulfill a fantasy of mine.”

My lips spread into a full smile instantly, and his chuckle warms my cheek.

“What fantasy?” I ask, keeping my eyes firmly closed.

“Mm, tell me one of yours, and I’ll tell you the one I’m talking about…”

“In a spa. One with jets.”

He moans, kissing my neck briefly. “That’s a good one.”

“Tell me yours.”

He rolls me over, and I grin as I work hard to keep my lids locked shut, my legs falling open for him, but he doesn’t climb between them.

The heat of his hand falls to my bare hip, his thumb drawing slow circles beneath the weight of the blanket before sliding up my ribs. He squeezes there, and then cool air prickles my skin, the blanket pulled back until it lies bunched below my navel. He’s perched on his elbow above me and holds himself still.

My nipples pebble, and I know he’s grinning without looking. I’m about to give in, tension and nervousness tangling within me, but then he speaks, his words far from what I expect.

“I was the last thing you saw before you went to sleep, baby. Let me be the first you see when you wake.”

My eyelids flick open instantly, and the smile on Crew’s face has my heart jumping in my chest.

“Morning, Sweets.”

My cheeks flame, and he laughs, low and lingering.

Slow and steady, the curves of his lips settle into a soft line, his focus shifting from one part of me to the next. His gaze, uncannily intense, is like a warm caress across my skin, melting my muscles into mush against the mattress. It’s as if he’s massaging me with his eyes, loving on me with his mind.

Desperate for his kiss, I reach up, gliding my fingers along the growing stubble on his chin, and this man, this beastly, beautiful man, leans into my touch, his eyes closing, if only for a second.

The same need fluttering through us both, we seem to arch at the same second, the same pace, until our lips meet in the middle. The kiss is tender, promising, and my lungs demand a full inhale.

Crew pulls back first, pressing his forehead to mine. “Up, Sweets. Get dressed. We got somewhere to be.”

Curiosity sharp, I grin. “Where?”

“Somewhere.”

“Oh.” I crawl off the bed as he does. “I like this.”

A large arm wraps around my naked body, the other coming down for a fistful of ass. “I like this.”

“I’ve arrived at that conclusion already.”

Crew chuckles, tapping my ass with a swift little slap. “Clothes, my nerd. Now.”

As if he might regret his playful demand, he swiftly spins, disappearing into his bedroom.

I pull a yellow sundress out, one with thin straps and a flowy waist, the kind that will blow up and blind me with the wind, so I tug on a pair of spandex shorts beneath it to be safe. Last thing I want is Crew going apeshit if it happens and a man is within, you know, ten miles or so. He’s hit enough people because of me this month.

In the bathroom, I part my hair down the middle, smoothing it flat to my head, and slicking it back into a low, crisp bun, adding a Runtz bobby pin to both sides, the banana popping against my dress.

Crew’s in the kitchen when I walk out, pulling sandwich stuff out and setting it on the counter. “Ham or turkey?”

“Salami.”

He laughs, glancing at me, and he does a double take, a heady sigh leaving him as he glares at the hem of my dress.

“What?”

“Why did I get you out of bed again?”

This time, it’s me who laughs, and I slide open the kitchen drawer, tearing into a new pack of candy necklaces. Drawing it over my head, I smirk at the man.

At my man.

My girly inner self screams and squeals and stomps her feet in delight.

“Because you want to take me to this ominous place called ‘somewhere.’”

He pouts. “Right.”

Amused, I move to the counter, putting away ingredients after he uses them to move us along faster. He passes me mine, and I take a large bite, leaning my hip on the counter. “So,” I speak around my mouthful, swallowing. “Any chance we can take a small detour on the way?”

He steps in, peeling the crust off his bread with his lips, and I laugh as he pulls it into his mouth with his tongue. “What kind of detour?”

“Mm.” I tip my head back and forth as I consider his question. “The exciting kind?”

“A candy store?”

My laugh flies from me, and I shake my head. “No, but I like the way you think.”

“I was doing my best ‘think like Davis’ for that one.” He grins, devouring the rest of his lunch with a single bite. “How long will this little detour take?”

“Five minutes tops.”

Crew digs into his pocket, holding his keys out for me. “Lead the way, Sweets.”

Giddy, I squeal, and then we’re off.

Mere minutes down the road, and we’re there.

Crew side-eyes me as I switch into the suicide lane, the only place to go, an old mechanic’s shop my dad found me last summer. Turning into the parking lot, I’m sure to keep us on the south side of the building, where the inquiring customers pull in.

Killing the engine, I throw my seat belt off, swiftly turning to Crew when he does the same.

“Wait here?”

His frown is instant, but with another glance at the place and a quick read of my gaze, he agrees. “Two minutes.”

“Fair enough.” I smile, dashing out of the car and into the building.

The man with the mullet—who only now looks hip, when I’m sure he’s had his since the first time they were in style—smiles, his coveralls covered in grease and hard labor.

“Last one, huh?” He steps up to the counter, glancing at the two-hundred-and-fifteen-dollar check on the counter.

“Last one.” I beam, bouncing on my heels as he does his part, crossing t’s and dotting i’s, and with a giant thank you, I’m out the door, opposite the one I came in through.

As I come around the building, Crew’s head snaps up from where he stands perched at the back of his hood, phone in hand.

At first, he appreciates, and then recognition clicks.

His frown is instant, deep, and then in slow motion, he kicks off, sliding his phone in his pocket.

I come to a stop right behind his car, and his heated eyes flick along the frame, eating up every inch of the fresh polish and settling on the whitewall tires, an unplanned addition I love, the white hood popping because of it.

“Davis.” His voice is low and gravelly, on the edge of flip-the-fuck-out mode.

Shoving my door open, I quickly hop out, hands raised. “Okay, I know what you’re thinking.”

“I will take a crowbar to this fucking thing before you can stop me if you don’t speak. Now. Might still if I don’t like what you have to say.”

Shit. Right.

Here we go…

Crew

My body is vibrating from the inside out, my blood hot and threatening to boil over, sending me into a fit of rage I might not be able to contain.

She said she was mine.

That the deal was off. Done.

Didn’t fucking matter.

So why the fuck did she bring me to this shop only hours after the terms of the bullshit deal were done?

Her cherry is good and fucking popped. Mine.

And the item she offered me in exchange for the job is shining behind her, mocking me. Mocking us.

“Um,” she starts, swallowing nervously. “I’m not—we’re not here so I can give it to you, though, I do think it should be yours.”

I reach behind me, popping my trunk, and her eyes widen.

“I just made the last payment!” she says quickly.

“Because that makes a fucking difference.” I pull at my restraint, connecting with the crowbar lying ready in my peripheral.

She continues. “I’ve had it here for a year now. My dad found this place, towed it down, and made the first payment to get things going, but I’ve been making the rest since. It’s been ready and waiting for almost three months now, but it took me a bit longer to pay it off since I had the seats redone to match the originals and got new tires. New seat belts and a glove box, too, so no more tape.”

My memory flashes to the white cleat tape me and Memphis dug out of our baseball bags to hold the thing up, sometimes using it as a place to hide a joint or something stupid from his parents.

“Why today, Davis?” Even I can hear the weight of rejection in my tone.

Call me pathetic, but this shit stings. I waited to touch her, to have her. I fucking left her for Christ’s sake, twice, tearing myself in damn two to protect what I hoped we could one day be.

To protect her from the bullshit I was caught up in until shit was normal again.

Legit.

Safe.

Davis smiles, and it’s as tender as they come, as is the touch of her hands when they weave around my waist, her chin lifting to press into my chest.

On instinct, my arms do the same, locking and holding her to me, the need to be near her, to be touching her, deep on a subconscious level.

“Monday was payday for me, but life has been the best kind of busy, so I hadn’t made it down yet, that’s all,” she murmurs. “But this wasn’t a random thought trip. I’ve been waiting for this, I—” She blushes. “I wanted you to be the first person to see it. You and Memphis worked so hard on the truck, I wanted you here for its first time back on the road. It’s what I thought about the day I dropped it off and the first thing I thought of every time I came to make a payment.”

The warmth of her words, the shy, reluctant way she spoke them, thaws the ice in my veins a bit, and as if she senses it, a hopeful glint flits through her brown eyes.

She said I was the first she thought of, the first she wanted to see.

Me, not her brother.

Not her dad.

My forehead falls to hers.

“This past year, while we weren’t speaking, I would come up with conversations in my head on the way home from here,” she shares.

“What kind of conversations?”

“The kind that would convince you to go on a drive with me the day it was ready.”

She doesn’t have to say the in-between; we’re both thinking it.

I would have told her no and she wouldn’t have understood why.

Last year, and the one before, were ten times harder than this one’s been, and this one is no cakewalk, so that’s saying something, but she has no idea the shit I’ve struggled with. Because I didn’t allow her the chance to find out.

She did what I hoped she would and poured all her focus into school, herself and her future. I told myself she wasn’t missing me, that if I crossed her mind at all, it didn’t hurt her the way it did me to miss and think of her, to worry about her or secretly check up on her, like I had so many times.

It doesn’t take a genius to know I was wrong. She wasn’t the only one blind to things around her. Clearly, I was too.

She wanted, maybe even needed, me all along.

“Don’t be mad at me,” she whispers, her eyes closed. “Promise, I’m not giving it to you. It’s too pretty for that now.”

An unexpected chuckle leaves me, and Davis grins, her lids slowly opening.

“You saying I’m not pretty, Sweets?”

“You are so far from pretty, you’re like… Atomic Fireballs hot.”

My head falls back with a laugh, and then I’m pushing forward, her back against the sleek ride, in one swift move.

Davis’s eyes flash wide, desire quick to darken her pupils. “Okay, this is a whole new level of fantasies. I feel like if I knew what I was doing, I’d have dreamed of this when I was young, when I would stick around and wait for you to strip out of your shirt after an hour of being under the hood.”

“You watched me, Sweets?”

“Straight perved. It was all part of my routine.”

“What if I said there were times I watched you, too?”

“I’d say I’m going to need a list. Chronological order, please.”

I grin, and a groan quickly follows.

Fuck, this girl, she kills me.

Her big brown eyes implore mine, but she doesn’t wait, knows she doesn’t have to.

That I’m hers.

She takes what she wants, pressing her lips to mine for what I thought might be a sweet, soft, please forgive me kiss, but that’s not what I get at all.

Davis crashes her mouth to mine, fists my shirt to drag me closer and dives right inside my mouth, hungry for me. Starved to know I’m not angry with her, and, oddly enough, I realize I’m not. Her explanation was sincere, her words far more powerful than she realizes.

The girl has no fucking clue how long I’ve wanted to be the first thing on her mind.

It’s like I told her this morning, I wanted to be the lucky motherfucker who coaxed her eyes open in the morning after satisfying her all night.

In a way, these things mean more than being the first inside her body, though that was a gift I’ll forever feel a need to repay her for. Preferably in bed. Naked.

A horn sounds, and I tear away, glaring at the tow truck across the lot when the dude behind the wheel holds his hand out the window. “I tried to be patient, but let’s go,” he shouts.

My jaw clenches, and I take a step toward him before I realize it, and Davis grips my wrist.

My head snaps her way, and she grins.

“Down, boy.” She dangles the keys in front of me. “What do you say, Crewster?”

I wrap my hands around hers, bringing my lips flush with hers. “I have to say, I’m a little disappointed you’re wearing shorts under this thing.” I squeeze her waist. “I’d have loved to set you on my lap, where no one would know I was buried deep inside you.”

I yank the door open, and it doesn’t creak as it used to, bringing a grin to my lips. “Inside the truck, baby. We’ve got places to be.”

Davis smiles and climbs inside.

If there wasn’t a bald dude behind us, waiting to get out of the parking lot we’re blocking, I would do this slow, slide the key in and listen to the baby purr, glide my palms along the steering wheel and fist the stick good and tight. But there is a bald guy behind me, so the moment I turn the key, I kick the thing into gear and roll forward, out onto the main road.

I can’t help the laugh that leaves me as I hit the gas, the truck jerking a bit with the quick speed it gains.

“You like it,” she says softly.

“You know I do, it’s why you used it as bait.”

“I’d do it again if for no other reason than the bite that follows.”

My eyes snap her way, finding she’s fighting a laugh, the little tease.

“Baby, you like when I bite?”

Her eyes narrow playfully, and she throws my words right back at me. “You know I do.”

“You know I’m a man, right? And remember when I said men were dumb?”

She nods.

“Well, men need to hear all about the shit you like, even when we already know, and it’s exactly why we do it in the first place.”

At that, she does laugh. “Noted. I’ll compile a list.”

“Chronological order.”

Davis drops her head back with an airy giggle. “Anything for you, Crew Taylor.”

Grinning, I focus on the road, telling myself she means that literally, and is prepared to do whatever it takes to keep it that way.