Crash Ride (3 page)

She shrugged it off and it didn’t take a genius to realize she was holding shit back. “Nothing I can talk about, just a rough case load. I can handle it though, just need a night out.”

“You girls want a ride in? Dan and I are thinking of hitting the town as well. That is, if I can convince cry-baby to stop bitching into his beer and get out the door.” Extra time with Megs would be a bonus. Hopefully I could get a bead on what was clouding those beautiful eyes. Yeah, it made no sense for me to be protective of her, but it was a lost cause pushing down the urge. I’d learnt not to fight it.

“We were going to get a cab. You guys are going out too?” Ash asked, as she turned to look at Dan who was still weighing my offer. Like it or not, he was riding shotgun. I wasn’t going to be sitting here all night with his miserable ass. Lord knows, I’d paid him that courtesy more than just a few times.

“Yeah, guess so.” Dan got on the same page, not like I’d given him much choice. “Give me five and I’ll change.” He pulled off his T-shirt as he walked toward the bedroom.

I grabbed my cell and started dialing. “We’ll get TJ to drive us in. He can take you ladies wherever you wanna go, and then we’ll come get you when you’re done.”

“Well if we’re all going out, why don’t we just go out together?” Megs volunteered, and I’ll be damned if her face didn’t light up at the suggestion.

Ash played devil’s advocate; her concern was an easy read. “Megs, are you sure? I thought you wanted it to be just us.” She’d made a point of not being one of those girls who was constantly under thumb. Just as well too, ’cause that’s sure as shit not what a
real
man wants. All that yes-sir-shit was great in the bedroom, but outside of that, they needed to be able to think for themselves.

Megs’s lips curved into a smile. “Ash, I know you. You’re going to be thinking about Dan the whole time anyway and he is probably going to be texting you every five minutes. It’s fine. We can go out as a group. That is, if Troy Harris is okay with it?” She turned to me, nailing me with a single look.

Wow, did the temperature of the room just raise a few degrees since she’d walked in? There wasn’t a lot she could ask me for and I’d say no. Her suggestion—us hanging out tonight— had zero chance of me not being on board. “Oh, I’m more than okay with it. I’m immediately a fan of anything that means I won’t have to deal with Dan being a whiny bitch the whole night.”

“So it’s settled.” Megs flicked her hair from her shoulders, her spectacular tits getting my attention as she breathed in and out with excitement. “I get to pick the venue though. If Dan has his way, we’re going to end up at Hooter’s.”

“Hooter’s? What are you guys talking about?” Dan was back, freshly changed into a clean pair of jeans and Misfits T-shirt. “Megs, you know I like you and all, but talking shit about that fine establishment is blasphemy in this house.”

“Dan, no one was talking shit about your tits-n-wings haven. Relax.” Ash shot him down pretty quickly. That right there was one of the biggest reasons I liked her. She picked up my slack, so to speak, where Dan was concerned. “Megs has decided we should turn girls’ night into a foursome.”

“Wait. What? Is this some kind of test?” Dan looked confused, the color draining from his face.

I threw back my head and laughed, putting him out of his misery. “Not that kind of a foursome, you moron. Fuck, man, seriously. We’re tagging along on Megs’s magical mystery tour.”

“Well, hells yeah!” Dan grabbed Ash around the waist, looking at her like she was dinner. “That mean I get to be down and dirty on the dance floor with my baby?”

“I’m already regretting this decision.” Megs sidled up close to me, rolling her eyes.

“Oh no, Megs. You’ve already committed. No take-backs.” I slung my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. Hmmm. I liked the way she felt against me. Very fucking nice.

“Well, if everyone’s agreed what’s say we get out the door and see if we can’t get Megs to forget her shitty day,” Ash offered, putting a stop to Dan’s wandering hands. “Dan, shouldn’t you change? I’m not sure they are going to let you into a club wearing a T-shirt.”

“Oh Ash, I love you, babe.” Dan’s mouth curled into a grin. “But green supersedes dress code every time, sweetheart. Besides, name a club and I know most of the dudes at door. I could walk in wearing a chicken suit and they’d still let me in.”

Ash gave him a friendly shove. “You are so conceited, you know that?”

“I know, babe. It’s part of my charm.” His fucking grin getting wider.

The man was an idiot, but he wasn’t wrong. Call it unfair or social unjust, but along with the fame we attracted, we got one hell of a free pass. People just gave us shit and treated us differently, even if we didn’t want it. Fuck, I couldn’t even remember the last time someone told me I couldn’t do something. As for establishments, short of taking a piss on the bar, we could pretty much wear, do or say anything we wanted if it meant that it got people through their door.

I moved my arm lower, feeling Megs’s soft skin under my calloused fingers and my cock stirred, all kinds of interested in what my hands were doing. Yeah, not going to happen buddy. We needed to eject ASAP or it was going to be really fucking obvious what my thoughts were about. “As much as I’d like to see Dan in a chicken suit tearing around Manhattan, I think we should make tracks. You good?”

“Ready.” Dan tucked his arm around his girl’s waist, the shit-eating grin on his face a dead giveaway he was ecstatic with the development of the evening. Great.

Megs smiled, her face happier than a kid in a candy store. “Okay, so I’m feeling sentimental. Let’s go back to where it all started. Let’s head to
Panic
.”

If anything was going
to make me forget my crap-tastic day at work, it was Troy Harris. Ah, sigh. He was like the Holy Grail of good times wrapped up in one badass package. Not that I knew, it was all assumptions and measured guesses, but surely a man built like that wouldn’t disappoint. And disappointment is one thing I didn’t need tonight.

It wasn’t like I didn’t have an amazing life. My quota of
great
was straining against the maximum. A loving, supportive family, a beautiful apartment, wonderful friends and a fulfilling job, how did I get so lucky? Sure, Prince Charming hadn’t shown up yet, but I hadn’t had to give up one of my shoes either, so it wasn’t all bad.

Not a lot of people understood my career choice, but working with troubled kids was something you could never attach a dollar value to. While angels didn’t cluster around me like a renaissance painting—I’m still partially bummed about that— what I did, mattered. There was no greater reward than seeing one of my
kids
weather the storm. Nothing even came close.

My latest
kid
was Brad Hemsworth. A sixteen-year-old who, despite coming from a middle class, well-adjusted family, was dealing with adolescent depression. He was struggling to find his place, not fitting in with the jocks or smart kids at the school and generally spending most of his time alone. He had tried to commit suicide once before and he was admitted into the ER yesterday after another failed attempt. This time with pills. His reasoning, it was neater than slitting his wrist like he had done the time previously. I tried not to take it personally, but a part of me felt I’d failed him. Tonight, I needed a night to just forget. Selfish, I know, and I hoped that feeling this way wasn’t going to guarantee me a place burning in Hell, but I needed distance. Distance from the sadness and distance from the guilt.

Panic
was the club Ash and I had fatefully found ourselves in so many months ago when we were trying to cheer up Ash. It wasn’t a coincidence that I chose this place, hoping it would rework its magic. Troy Harris, along for the ride, well that was the cherry on top.

True to Dan’s word, dress code hadn’t been an issue with the bouncers falling over themselves to raise the rope for both he and Troy. Not even a look was thrown in our direction as we breezed right in. They didn’t even check ID. I could have been a sixteen-year-old runaway with a purse full of blow and I would have received the same nod and smile. Lucky for them I
was
of age and
not
packing narcotics—they had dodged that bullet.

“You going to get drunk and fall over?” Troy playfully bumped my shoulder as we entered the club, the light sweeping through the room in an erratic wave. The noise wasn’t any less obnoxious since our last visit, but strangely, that excited me. My senses exploded with the familiarity of the room; the darkness and the light were at war with each other as a soundtrack of destruction played in the background. Panic was an appropriate name for the place, the thumping of my pulse matched the bass booming from the speakers.

I playfully nudged him back as we waded through the crowd. My hands probably lingered a little longer than was necessary, but it was crowded and dark, so the touching was totally acceptable. That was my story and I was sticking to it. All that was needed was a suitable justification for my hand wandering to his ass and my night would be complete. Just putting it out there and if the universe wanted to reward me, then what could I say? I would be grabbing that opportunity with both hands—pun totally intended.

“If I fall, will you promise you’ll nurse me back to health, Troy Harris?” Seeing as sleeping with me was out, a little TLC from those strong capable hands would be worth another tumble.

Dan and Ash were a few feet in front of us, Dan’s arms wrapped protectively around Ash’s waist. No one would have missed his territorial vibe, and short of actually marking her, he was doing a fine job so that no man would think twice about approaching her. It was kind of adorable.

“I’ve got an icepack waiting in the car, just in case.” His lips teased into a smile.

I liked that. His smile. It was so contagious and it did amazing things to those hazel eyes. It also managed to do other amazing things,
tingly
things to parts of my body. He didn’t even have to touch me. Look Mom, no hands —just that smile and those eyes. It was his superpower. I wasn’t entirely convinced he was human.

The stress of my day had already started to evaporate. This was definitely one of my smartest decisions. Troy had a kindness in his face that contradicted the roughness of his body. All those hard lines converged into big walls of flesh. He was solid and I wanted nothing more than to rub myself up against his mass.

Wearing a fitted, black button-down he left undone at collar and at the sleeves, he was looking particularly good tonight. He’d teamed it up with a pair of black jeans and black heavy boots, the pop of color coming from his intricate and artful tattoos that poked out from the fabric. His tats were beautiful, covering both arms, most of his chest and back. Not that I’d actually seen all of them up close, but I’d stalked enough pictures to know. Have we discussed my Google habit? Yeah, it wasn’t a coincidence that when you typed “TR” into my search bar,
Troy Harris
was the first thing to pop up. If he ever checked out my computer’s history, I would be totally screwed. Mental note— clear my cache when I get home.

My want for him, that hadn’t diminished despite him telling me it wasn’t happening. Masochism was the only explanation for it. Because despite our flirting back and forth, I knew he didn’t feel for me what I felt for him. Did I stop? Nope.

The lust I had ran deep; it was an itch I just couldn’t quite reach no matter how hard I scratched. No one else seemed to satisfy it either. Not like I hadn’t tried and not like I bet he could. And I needed that more than I cared to admit, especially tonight. To help me forget the thoughts that were unrelenting in my mind, and to help me remember the pleasure that my body had long been denied.

A couple rushed past, almost knocking me over. They didn’t even notice I’d almost fallen on my ass as they pushed through the crowd. Too busy laughing and wrapped up in their own excitement to worry about the fact they had shoved me. My body swayed as I tried to regain my balance.

Troy instinctively pulled me to his side. “You okay?” His hand moved around my body, forming a protective barrier around me as he tried to right me back onto my feet. His concern for me dissipated my anger at the couple for being rude assholes. I actually might thank them —Troy’s hands on me as a result of their handy work; that was a serious positive.

“I’m fine, thanks.” My hand brushed up against his arm, hoping he would hold me a little longer. Sadly, I needed to get my thrills when they came and Troy touching me definitely fell into that category. If only I could convince him to touch me a little lower, and possibly while we were both naked. Too much?

“Maybe I should hold on to you, just to be sure. We wouldn’t want for you to end up injured so soon. You can’t even blame the booze this time around.” He lowered his hand so that it circled my waist and I had to remember to breathe. My body pressed against his side as he guided me through the crowd. Instinctively, I reciprocated and wrapped my arm around his waist. After all, I wouldn’t want to seem rude or ungrateful; manners were a big part of my upbringing. I sure wasn’t going to argue. He could keep his hands on me for as long as he wanted. Not that I would vocalize that encouragement, I still had my pride.

“I can assure you, I’m going to do everything I can not to end up on my ass.” I leaned against him, his scent intoxicating me. I had to stop myself from actually pressing my nose against his chest and sniffing him. It would not be something that would have been easily explained even though the pleasure would have been worth the embarrassment. He smelled good too. All that masculine-sexy- whatever it was spliced with cologne. Yum. I actually had to stop myself from licking my lips. I seriously needed to get laid, and preferably by someone who knew what he was doing.

It’s not like I had spent the last six months pining after a guy I couldn’t have. No, I had brushed myself off and went full steam ahead in trying to find a distraction. Any distraction. Not that I started bedding strange men and having one-night stands, but I was certainly more open to a
casua
l relationship. I was actively dating and I’d always had a healthy sex life, but the last couple of months… well I was a little bored with what the life buffet had offered me. Maybe it’s the bad-boy hang up or the allure of the forbidden, but the reasons why Troy and I shouldn’t sleep together were making less and less sense. After all, we were adults. Rational ones even. Well, for the most part. Feelings wouldn’t even have to come into it. Who says it has to be a relationship? It could just be just sex. Maybe once we’d
had
sex, the whole forbidden fruit issue would be gone, thus remedying the situation. Maybe, it would be like a vaccination, sort of like when they give you the live virus of something to prevent a full-blown outbreak. It would definitely cure the sexual frustration I had going on.

“Um, Megs? Where did you go?” Troy’s raised eyebrow hinted at the fact I’d zoned out again. It seemed to be a real hazard when I was around him. I hadn’t even noticed we reached the stairs that lead to the VIP area.

“I was just thinking…” I swallowed. My heartbeat raced as I contemplated what I was about to say. Best not to over thinking it, I didn’t want to lose my nerve. I was also stone cold sober, as Troy had helpfully pointed out, so there was no way I could blame my future actions on inebriation. Still, there was a sure fire way to stop the loop of crap rolling around in my head and
that
way was standing in front of me. Sue me if I sounded desperate, I really didn’t care about public opinion, what I needed was to lose myself for an hour or two. And the person I wanted to do that with was Troy. Here goes nothing. I was about to test my theory once and for all to prove that honesty is in fact the best policy.

“We should have sex.”

“Whoa. Um. Megs. Maybe we should get a drink first. Maybe sit down?” Troy smiled but didn’t act shocked. After all, the flirting was nothing new so he probably assumed
this
was just an extension of
that
. Turning it up a notch, if you will. I could tell he didn’t think it was a legitimate proposition. I would fix that.

“No seriously. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced we should do it.”

He lowered his face inches from mine. “Megs, didn’t we already agree dating would be a bad idea?”

“Who said anything about dating? No, I’m talking about fucking. Just sex. Purely physical,” I clarified in case there was any confusion. I figured if I was going to sell this baby, I had to do it justice and leaving wiggle room in the interpretation would not do.

His eyes narrowed, realizing I was serious. “Were you drinking
before
you got to Ash and Dan’s?”

Laughing would be inappropriate, and would not help my cause, so I tried not to. It wasn’t easy. Sure what I was asking was slightly out of character—scratch that, extremely out of character—but I had suggested it in the past. Granted I’d been drunk, and my lets-have-sex had been off-the-cuff, but a proposal had been made. What did I have to lose? “No. I’m completely sober. Actually, this is the clearest my mind has been in a long time.”

“So we’re just supposed to
fuck
and then stay friends?” His eyes were a mix of contradiction and confusion. Strangely, it just made him even more alluring. “I really don’t think that works out that way for anyone.”

While I admired his integrity on the issue—really, give the man a round of applause—it was his other attributes I was interested in tonight. It wasn’t going to turn into some long and romantic love story. I was okay with that. I was surprised I hadn’t come to this conclusion sooner. Sex was definitely the answer. “No, not if they go in with other expectations. Of course, we know better. No emotional attachment, just fulfilling a primal need.”

His mouth curved into a grin and despite my indecent proposal, he didn’t seem pissed. “Megs, think about what you are saying. Once you go there, you can’t un-go there. We both know it’s not that simple.”

“Are you two coming up or what? I thought we were going to party tonight, not have a PTA meeting on the stairs,” Dan called from the top of the stairs, his arm around Ash. I guess they had finally noticed our absence, or potentially heard the whistle of the crazy train threatening to take me away.