Second row, twelfth car on the left. Keys with information desk.
He’d fixed my tire just as he’d said.
Hardin had texted, too.
It’s tomorrow and now we can touch you. See you soon.
We hadn’t made plans, but… wow. That text. I got hot all over thinking of them getting their hands on me. Their dicks in me. I’d finally give up my virginity. I wanted it to be them, knew they’d make it good. God, I was hot from just a text. I’d probably burst into flames if we had sex. Not if, but when.
Mac. The brooding, dark protector who was an expert at oral pleasure. Hardin, who was remarkably gentle for his size. A thinker. He was a toucher, a hugger. He soothed by contact. He’d make a great nurse.
But my mind kept getting snagged on Mac, on what Dr. Knowles had said. Was Mac being kind because he wanted to use me for my access to pain pills?
I wondered that all the way home, but the idea died when I entered my apartment. It was just as I’d left it this morning, perfectly neat. Except it wasn’t as I’d left it. I doubted anyone else would notice, but my TV remote wasn’t in the little basket on the coffee table. Going to the kitchen, I saw that the magnet clip that held the carryout menu from the nearby pizza place was now over a foot to the left.
My heart pounded, and the tips of my fingers tingled. I held my breath, listened. There was only the hum of the fridge, the air blowing from the heater vents. The front door had been locked. And yet someone had been here since this morning. I knew it. The little changes were something I couldn’t miss.
I ran to my bedroom. The decorative pillow on the made bed was upside down, the flowers pointing toward the mattress. Just looking at it bothered me. No way would I set it that way. In my bath, the hand towels on the rack weren’t aligned.
No.
Bolting for the front door, I grabbed my keys, fled. I hadn’t taken off my coat or sneakers. My bag was still slung over my shoulder. I skipped the elevator and took the steps two at a time to the ground floor, then back out into the cold. Once on the sidewalk, I paused to catch my breath. I felt as if I had tachycardia and my blood pressure must be at stroke point. What was I going to do? Where should I go? There was only one place that came to mind.
The auto shop.
There was one thing I could think of that would make me forget about the person getting into my apartment. Two things, actually.
Mac and Hardin.
Actually Mac’s and Hardin’s dicks.
I’d seen one, and I was eager to see the other—and in action. All the adrenaline of discovering someone had been in my apartment was now focused elsewhere. In a much better way.
As I drove across town, I realized this was the moment. Twenty-five years in the making. After all the duds that had come before, I was going to get two gorgeous men to get me off.
Before I lost my nerve, I went into the shop, cut through the empty reception area and into the service bay. A car was up on a lift. Another had the hood up. The area was clean considering all the refined motor oils.
“Hey there,” Hardin said, walking up from the back of the bay. He was drying his hands with a rag.
The smile on his face was indication he was pleased to see me.
“Hi,” I replied breathlessly.
“Mac!” Hardin shouted. “Sam’s here.”
Mac came out of a back room, walked our way with that casual swagger of his. I remembered Dr. Knowles’s words, that Mac had been in jail for selling drugs. I doubted he was lying; it was simple enough for me to check. I questioned Dr. Knowles’s motives because they seemed petty, as if he wanted to keep me from Mac instead of protecting me from him.
I didn’t know Mac very well, but on instinct I’d driven myself to the shop after the break-in because… why? Because I trusted them. He’d done nothing to make me think he was less than what he showed me. A gentleman, one who got on his knees in his own kitchen and ate me out. A nice guy and a bad boy in one. And Hardin? He and Mac were friends. A good guy, too. He wouldn’t run a business with Mac if he didn’t think him worthy.
This was the kind of thing my parents had warned me about—not the actual pussy licking but falling for strange men—when I’d put my foot down and moved to Cutthroat, since I was so naive and young and clueless. A few drinks, a few kisses and I’d lost all judgment. Had I?
But I didn’t feel afraid, worried, doubtful, cautious. I felt nothing but eagerness. I wanted Mac. I wanted Hardin. Was I making a stupid mistake? Possibly. My pussy was definitely doing the thinking for me. One Mac-induced orgasm had made me eager for another. And with Hardin here, too… I’d find out the truth, but later. After I found out what I was missing. After sex. It was a biological function I wanted to experience.
Now.
“Am I interrupting your work?”
“Yes,” they both said at the same time.