Hot & Sticky: Sunset Bay: Book 1 Page 2

  Her eyes sweep over me, and she snorts a laugh. “Well good luck with that!”

  Instantly, she recoils and cringes. Her face looks white, and then bright pink, and she looks like she wants to be anywhere but right here, talking to me. But fuck is that an adorable look, and the grin spreads over my face.

  “I’m from Farrow HVAC?”

  The realization suddenly dawns on her face, and she goes bright pink.

  “Oh,” she all but whispers. Her eyes lock on mine, and fuck me, my heart skips a beat or two. Or ten. I stare at this girl standing right in front of me, and I’m fucking lost.

  “Um, right, it’s… the thing, it’s back there.”

  I grin slowly. “The AC unit?”

  She blushes deeper. “Yeah, that.”

  “Thanks.”

  We’re frozen like this, standing and staring face to face in the doorway. She’s blocking my way in, but hell if I care. Hell, if I care about a single damn thing except being right here in this moment, staring at the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her tiny white tank top is also almost completely see-through from sweat, and that is not helping me keep my eyes someplace civil.

  “Miss! Hello?!”

  The screech comes from through the kitchen, from the take-out window that seems to have new customers lining up at it again. The girl frowns through her blush, and I watch her jaw tick as the woman’s voice screeches again.

  “Are you on fucking break or something! He-llloooo!”

  Sighs and then purses her lips and steps back. The frozen moment shatters, and I’m instantly furious at the screeching shithead who’s just ruined this for me.

  “I—I need to get back to the window.”

  “Sure thing,” I growl. Part of me wants to grab her and pin her to the wall. I want to keep her right here, with me, by force if I have to. The idea of her not being inches from me, within my grasp with the heat of her skin so close to mine pisses me off.

  But she’s got a job to do. And for that matter, so do I.

  “I’ll be at the thingy,” I grunt.

  She grins widely, her cheeks flushing and her eyes sparkling. She opens her mouth to say something, but then she seems to swallow it back. She turns, and she quickly darts back to the window to the tune of the incessant screeching.

  I take a deep breath, trying to still my pulse and trying to will my cock back down. I grab my tools and head into the kitchen towards the big AC control unit in the corner. Instantly, I groan. Fucking Christ, it’s hot as hell in here.

  I get to work, but in seconds, I’m glancing up again, looking for her. From where I’m kneeling, I can actually see her right through the open bakery kitchen door, standing there at the window taking orders.

  I growl, forgetting my work, and my eyes follow her as she twirls and moves. It’s like she’s in a ballet, the way she moves getting orders ready behind that counter, and it’s a dance I could watch all damn day. That thin tank top? Those shorts? I mean the outfit might be stripper-tacky, but that doesn’t mean it’s not making my cock harder by the damn second. I groan, feeling my balls swell with the need to just fucking have her, and my jaw grinds.

  I keep trying to work, but fuck, it’s almost impossible. I find myself growling, watching her and wanting her so fucking bad. It’s been a long damn time since I’ve been with anyone. But shit, this ain’t the place or time, and fuck me, how old is she? Or rather, how young is she?

  That thought has me frowning and quickly turning back to work. I throw myself into it, heedless of the sweat dripping down my face and into my eyes. My shirt is fucking soaked, my skin is drenched, but I stick with it. Trying to focus while that worrying thought of how damn old this girl really is pounds through my mind. I somehow manage to keep my fucking eyes on my work.

  “Water?”

  I blink, startled. I have no idea how long I’ve been fixated on the control panel, but I look down and realize I’m actually just about done fixing the shotty wiring. I glance up, and my heart jumps in my chest. My cock fucking twitches as my eyes slide up over the tight, sweat-slicked body of the gorgeous cinnamon bun girl.

  She smiles down at me bashfully. “Are you thirsty?”

  She’s holding a big bottle of water, glistening with beads of condensation. Christ, it might even be as sexy as her right now, given how dehydrated I am. I glance past her to see the window mercifully devoid of any customers.

  “Yeah, thanks, I appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” she smiles. “You look really hot.”

  I just grin when she visibly, physically cringes and squeezes her eyes shut. Fuck, she looks so fucking cute when she blushes like that.

  “I’m West, by the way,” I say with a smirk. “West Farrow.”

  “Taylor,” she mumbles through burning cheeks. “Conway.”

  “Well, Taylor, I’m almost done here.”

  She sighs mercifully, relaxing just a little bit. “Oh thank God. This place has a been a freaking sauna for days.”

  I chuckle and swig the water. “So how’d you get stuck working at this place?”

  She frowns and looks down with a shrug. “Oh, my uncle owns it.

  Fuck.

  I wrinkle my nose and make a face. “Shit, sorry.”

  “No!” She laughs and looks up. “No, it’s fine. I mean, trust me, I’d rather be working almost literally anywhere else. I mean, I like cinnamon buns and all, but—”

  “But who wants them in this heat, right?”

  “Exactly!” She giggles. “And I could do without the pissed off tourists,” she adds with an adorable fucking little scowl.

  “Heard that,” I grin.

  “It’s just a summer thing,” she shrugs. “I mean working here. It’s just until I go to school in the fall.”

  “College?”

  “Yeah.”

  Thank fucking God.

  “I’m not sure what for yet, though. All I know is, it’s time to do my own thing.”

  There’s a ding of a bell, and her face falls with her shoulders. I glance past her to see a scowling tourist dinging the “ring for service” bell on the counter.

  “Miss!”

  “My own thing or serve more fucking melting cinnamon buns to bitches like that,” she spits.

  Instantly, I chuckle, but her whole face goes red. Her eyes go wide and she covers her mouth with a hand like she’s just said the worst curse in the world.

  “Oh my God! That was—”

  “Miss!”

  “Accurate,” I grin.

  She smiles back, blushing. She turns, then glances at me once again. Then she whips her long blonde hair back from her face and marches back to the take-out window. I grunt and stoop down to finish up the AC, but there’s a few last bits to reconnect that I missed with my first pass.

  I groan, sweating my fucking balls off while I twist the wires and solder the last parts back in place. Sweat drips down my back and my chest, and drips into my damn eyes. I hiss as the soldering iron singes a fingertip, but with that last part, I’m done.

  I stand, panting and sweating my ass off. I don’t even think, and I don’t care anyways, when I reach down and peel my absolutely soaked shirt off. I stretch my sore muscles from kneeling over the control box, and I whirl to go for the water bottle I’ve set on the shelf behind me.

  …And I whirl right into Taylor as she comes waltzing back into the room.

  She gasps and tumbles into me, her palms flat against my chest and a sound of surprise on her lips. I grunt, and my arms circle her on instinct. But once they’re there, they don’t go anywhere. I freeze with this angel in my arms, blushing deeply and gasping as she looks up into my eyes.

  I’m shirtless—she might as well be with that thin, soaked tank-top like a second skin. I can feel the swell of her pert breasts against me, and I can feel the hard points of her nipples against my skin. The hollow of her neck throbs with her pulse, and I swear, I feel her hips sink against me.

  I should walk away, for a
million reasons. She’s too young. She’s the niece of the guy who owns this place and is paying us for this job. I’m too fucked up from war and killing for something so pure and innocent as her.

  I could keep going until the list is a mile long. But I know damn well it won’t make a lick of difference, and it won’t stop me for even a single millisecond from doing, well, this.

  I grab her tight, lean down, and as she breaths out a soft, moaning whimper, I crush my lips to hers, hard.

  Chapter Three

  Taylor

  Oh my God. Oh my God.

  I’m kissing him—I’m literally standing here kissing the crazy hot, fantasy man who’s been invading my every thought since the moment I laid eyes on him across the pier.

  Not in my head this time, really for real, in the flesh, actually kissing him.

  My toes curl, and my very skin tingles all over as his hands tighten on my waist. My lips sear to his, and I whimper as he crushes them tighter together. I feel surrounded by him with his size and his big arms wrapped so tight around me, and I moan into his lips.

  I’ve barely done a thing with a boy before. Actually, I’ve done precisely zero besides a few ill-thought-out kisses. But, none of those kisses was even close to this. None of those can even be called kisses compared to the feeling of his lips on mine and the possessive way he’s claiming them utterly.

  But then, this is no boy. This man kissing me like I belong to him isn’t anywhere close to the boys I kissed back in high school. It’s not like he’s old or anything—probably in his mid-twenties or something. But, he’s so rough, and growly, and masculine. His stubble teases my upper lip and sends shivers through my body His muscles coil like steel against me.

  He makes me want to let go. He makes me want him to have me, in any fucking way he wants.

  I whimper into his lips, gasping as he growls against me. He tastes like sweat, but it’s not in a yucky dirty way. It’s in a crazy hot, masculine way that has me trembling against him, aching for everything.

  He growls darkly and grabs me tighter. I whimper eagerly, kissing him deeply as his arms circle around my waist. He lifts me, and I squeal before he whirls and sets me roughly on the metal top of a kitchen prep table. The shop isn’t quite closed for the day, but we’re mostly out of sight from the take-out window anyways.

  His hands slide over my waist, and his fingers tease between the hem of my tank-top and my cutoffs. I whimper, feeling his hot, firm touch over the tiny strip of exposed skin. I kiss him deeper, and my hands slide up his back to thread into his hair.

  There are no words, just pure, raw, lust. I crave him, and I’m glad we’re not saying a thing, because if we were, I know it’d be a matter of time before I utterly outed myself as being the ridiculously inexperienced girl I am. I don’t know if this rough and gorgeous man thinks I do this all the time or whatever. But I’m pretty freaking sure he’d freak if I causally let slip that his hand on my bare hip is literally the farthest I’ve ever gone with a guy.

  I may not know much, but I know guys don’t want fumbling, bashful little virgins. Guys, and especially grown-up, hot guys like West, want experience. They want a girl who knows what she’s doing and how to rock his world, and I have no fucking clue how to rock jack shit.

  So I keep my mouth shut. Well, no, I keep it open with my tongue dancing with his. I moan into him, gasping as his fingers start to push my sweaty tank-top up over my bare tummy. His other hand slides down to slip under my ass, squeezing me until I moan.

  His fingers trace and tease my bare stomach, and I feel it cave eagerly under his touch. I kiss him deeper, clawing at him as if to draw him even closer to me, and my legs spread willingly as he moves between them.

  His hand slips from my ass to caress and tease back over my waist. He moves it deftly to my bare thigh, and I shiver. His fingers push down over my inner thigh, and I moan softly. His hand pushes higher and higher, fingers teasing up the inside of my leg until the tips brush the frayed hem of my cutoffs.

  This might be wrong. He might be so much older, and I’m at work. But I fucking want this. I want this like I’ve never wanted anything, and certainly unlike any guy I’ve ever wanted before.

  He pauses, like he’s waiting for me to say yes. He pulls back, but I stop him with my hands, yanking him back to my bruised and swollen lips.

  “More,” I gasp before he growls and crushes his lips to mine. His hand pushes higher, and his fingers squeeze between my thigh and my shorts. I whimper with need, my heart soaring and my gut clenching in pleasure as his fingertips brush against the edge of my panties.

  I’ve never been touched here by anyone. But I never want him to stop touching me there. His fingertips slide over the lacy edge, and my core tightens and quivers. My arousal soaks my panties, to the point where I’m almost embarrassed at how wet they get, instantly.

  His fingers push across my mound suddenly, and I whimper as he starts to touch my lips through my drenched panties.

  “Oh God…” I gasp into his lips.

  “I love how fucking wet you are,” he growls before he kisses me hard again.

  I whimper as his fingers start to rub me boldly right through my panties. He strokes my lips, rubbing my sticky arousal over my throbbing clit until I’m clawing at his shoulders and neck. I moan eagerly into his mouth, squealing in pleasure as he rubs my little clit harder.

  With a snarl, he suddenly slips two fingers under the edge of my panties and slips them to the side. His fingers slide over my bare, pouty, slick lips, and I cry out into his mouth. West growls possessively, kissing me like he’s making me his with that kiss.

  His fingers stroke my bare pussy, spreading my lips and centering on my opening. He rubs my clit back and forth with maddeningly slow strokes with his thumb as he centers a thick finger at my entrance. I shiver in ecstasy, and I suck in my breath, ready for him to push that finger into me and make me squeal for more.

  …And then suddenly, there’s a key jangling in the lock on the back door to the kitchen.

  I almost have a freaking heart attack, and West groans as he lunges away from me. I jump from the counter, yanking my shirt back down as the door swings wide, and my fucking uncle walks in.

  Uncle Matt frowns when he sees me, and I whirl, my face burning hot and red. I can feel my arousal throbbing hot and wet between my thighs, and my pulse is racing.

  “Uncle Matt,” I croak as I turn back with a deep breath. “I didn’t know you were—”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  West, looking completely at ease, though shirtless, turns to my uncle.

  “West Farrow, Farrow HVAC.”

  Uncle Matt frowns, and then the lightbulb seems to go off.

  “Oh! Yeah, shit, guess you finally showed, huh?”

  West frowns. “You called this morning, Mr. Con—”

  “Why the fuck aren’t you wearing a shirt?” he demands. “I ordered an AC repair guy, not a fucking stripper.”

  West smiles calmly. “It’s pretty damn hot back here, Mr. Conway.”

  “No, shit,” Matt snaps. “That’s why I called. So did you fix it or not?”

  West frowns, and a shadow crosses his face. His eyes slip past Matt to mine, and I bite my lip, blushing as they burn hotly into mine.

  “Just about. There’s actually one part I’m going to have to machine at the shop. But I could be back in a few hours.”

  Matt scowls. “We’re about to close, pal.”

  West shrugs. “I’m happy to come back anyways, Mr. Conway.”

  Matt snorts. “Right, and help yourself to the cash drawer when no one else is here?”

  West’s brow furrows darkly.

  “Yeah, I bet you’d like that,” Matt grunts. “Wait until I’m not here so you can stick your fingers where they don’t belong?”

  I cringe. West’s eyes slide past Matt again to me, and just the faintest grin teases his lips. I blush furiously, but I bite my lip to hold back the grin on my own face.

  M
att frowns and suddenly glances back at me. “And what the hell were you doing back here, Taylor? We do have customers to serve, you know. You can go to Chippendales on your own damn time.”

  I blush furiously. Matt chuckles, glances at West, and wags a finger at him. “Hey, hands off the merchandise, pal,” he chuckles. He leans close and elbows West.

  “Ya know, unless you’re payin’!” He starts to laugh his creepy, lecherous laugh. I physically cringe and wrinkle my nose. West looks like he’s holding back violence.

  “Well, I’ll clean up and come back tomorrow then with the part,” West says thinly.

  “Just get and come back when it’s ready. I know you’re milking me by the hour here, pal.” West rolls his eyes as Matt turns to look at me. “And you? Trying to pull some overtime or something?”

  “No, I’m just about done, Uncle Matt.”

  The shop closes in about ten minutes, and I’ve gotten really good at closing duties, so I know even with how busy today was, I can wrap it up in probably twenty-five minutes.

  “Good,” Matt snaps. “Get this place looking clean and clock out.” He glances at West and frowns. “Didn’t I tell you to get the hell out? And don’t even think about billing me hourly for whatever part you forgot to bring.”

  I frown and mouth “sorry” to West. But he just shrugs coolly at Matt.

  “See you tomorrow then, Mr. Conway.”

  Matt grunts and stomps back into the front of the shop to roll the window cover down. I swallow and look up into West’s eyes, standing a few feet apart from me. My skin tingles from his touch, and just looking at him like this has my pulse throbbing in my veins. My arousal soaks my panties, and every single part of me wants to go right back to where we were a minute ago.

  …Where we were, and maybe even more.

  “Taylor,” he growls.

  “Hey! Pal! Turn off the fucking meter and get the fuck out!” He laughs. “Unless you want a date with my hot niece here. But I’m getting a cut if you do!”

  I cringe, and West snarls under his breath. His eyes narrow at Matt’s back, then they swivel back to me.

  “You should probably go,” I whisper, hating each word.