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Authors: Erika Masten
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face. Close-clipped brown hair,
even darker than mine, and blue-green eyes. Perpetual five o’clock
shadow around a set of smooth lips that are always wearing a crooked,
mischievous smirk. Firm, lean body and a set of arms to die
for.
I’ve been back in town
for eighteen months—working in the diner where he eats lunch everyday for six of those, since Dad passed away—and Austin
just got around to asking me out. Jim’s Place, on the edge of
town, tomorrow night, for ribs and cheap beer. He doesn’t make a lot as
a mechanic in this one-horse town, but the dancing is worth more to me than a
gourmet meal at one of the fancy restaurants up the coast. I’ll wear Mom’s red
pumps.
The thought of Austin’s
boyish smile and the glimmer in his eyes, of him drawing me near on the dance
floor, brings a gentle shiver to the back of my neck and a flush to my cheeks
and my chest. I fantasized about him all last night and all this morning. About that handsome, rough face scratching against my skin as he
kisses my neck. About him holding my hands pressed to
my bed above my head and sinking his cock deep into my aching pussy. About him whispering hot, dirty things to me and making me talk dirty for him.
His reputation precedes him. A little bit rough, commanding, possessive without
being abusive or belittling.
With some
embarrassment, I realize my nipples have peaked, pressing through the black
lace bra and blue shirt. I shake my head. They don’t make men like the Sully
boys anymore. Nothing ever quite compares.
I try to push aside the
next thought, though it follows naturally. Shane Sully. Austin’s brother. I’ve
had a few years of practice not thinking about Shane. I hear he’s back in town,
but I haven’t seen him around, and I’m glad of it. It’s enough of a risk getting
tangled up with Austin. The town doesn’t look kindly on the Sullys or the women who associate with them. The difference in the way people see
Austin and Shane is just a matter of degree.
The corner of my eye
catches a reflection in the window, someone coming up behind me. Maybe I
recognize the gait, or maybe I’m just paranoid, because I immediately tense. With good reason.
“Trina, what are you
doing out here?”
Inwardly, I cringe, and
I close my eyes for a second, as if I could wish Bud Orrin out of existence.
But that’s not going to happen. I turn to face Officer Orrin, with his blond
buzz-cut and his mirrored shades and his tight uniform. I’m pretty sure he
intentionally wears it a size too small to show off the beefy arms and broad
chest, to impress or intimidate as he sees need. He’s the police chief’s son
and will almost certainly be police chief when his dad retires, god help us
all.
“Just
taking a break, Bud.”
He frowns. “You should
stay out of the heat.”
I nod idly, wondering
how long I should wait before I hurry back across the street into the diner, so
it won’t look like I’m specifically trying to get away from him. After a couple
of seconds, I take a step past him.
Bud steps sideways to
cut me off. “What’s this I hear about you going out with Austin Sully?”
“Where’d you hear
that?” I ask defensively. I want to know who squealed, so I can hit them with a
brick, or at least drop a hot cup of coffee in their lap.
“Never mind who told
me. Is it true?” I pause a little too long, trying to decide whether to lie or
downplay the details. “Damn it, Trina, you just don’t learn. Those Sully boys
are trouble. If you’re not getting mixed up with one, it’s the other.”
I’m not going to bother
to argue. I’m not going to point out that Austin and Shane have had a bad
reputation for no good reason since they were just seven and eight when their dad died in a car accident, leaving an
overworked mom to wrangle two upset, confused kids while working twelve hours a
day to feed them. I’m not going to point out that neither of them had an arrest
record until Bud’s dad decided to make himself
even darker than mine, and blue-green eyes. Perpetual five o’clock
shadow around a set of smooth lips that are always wearing a crooked,
mischievous smirk. Firm, lean body and a set of arms to die
for.
I’ve been back in town
for eighteen months—working in the diner where he eats lunch everyday for six of those, since Dad passed away—and Austin
just got around to asking me out. Jim’s Place, on the edge of
town, tomorrow night, for ribs and cheap beer. He doesn’t make a lot as
a mechanic in this one-horse town, but the dancing is worth more to me than a
gourmet meal at one of the fancy restaurants up the coast. I’ll wear Mom’s red
pumps.
The thought of Austin’s
boyish smile and the glimmer in his eyes, of him drawing me near on the dance
floor, brings a gentle shiver to the back of my neck and a flush to my cheeks
and my chest. I fantasized about him all last night and all this morning. About that handsome, rough face scratching against my skin as he
kisses my neck. About him holding my hands pressed to
my bed above my head and sinking his cock deep into my aching pussy. About him whispering hot, dirty things to me and making me talk dirty for him.
His reputation precedes him. A little bit rough, commanding, possessive without
being abusive or belittling.
With some
embarrassment, I realize my nipples have peaked, pressing through the black
lace bra and blue shirt. I shake my head. They don’t make men like the Sully
boys anymore. Nothing ever quite compares.
I try to push aside the
next thought, though it follows naturally. Shane Sully. Austin’s brother. I’ve
had a few years of practice not thinking about Shane. I hear he’s back in town,
but I haven’t seen him around, and I’m glad of it. It’s enough of a risk getting
tangled up with Austin. The town doesn’t look kindly on the Sullys or the women who associate with them. The difference in the way people see
Austin and Shane is just a matter of degree.
The corner of my eye
catches a reflection in the window, someone coming up behind me. Maybe I
recognize the gait, or maybe I’m just paranoid, because I immediately tense. With good reason.
“Trina, what are you
doing out here?”
Inwardly, I cringe, and
I close my eyes for a second, as if I could wish Bud Orrin out of existence.
But that’s not going to happen. I turn to face Officer Orrin, with his blond
buzz-cut and his mirrored shades and his tight uniform. I’m pretty sure he
intentionally wears it a size too small to show off the beefy arms and broad
chest, to impress or intimidate as he sees need. He’s the police chief’s son
and will almost certainly be police chief when his dad retires, god help us
all.
“Just
taking a break, Bud.”
He frowns. “You should
stay out of the heat.”
I nod idly, wondering
how long I should wait before I hurry back across the street into the diner, so
it won’t look like I’m specifically trying to get away from him. After a couple
of seconds, I take a step past him.
Bud steps sideways to
cut me off. “What’s this I hear about you going out with Austin Sully?”
“Where’d you hear
that?” I ask defensively. I want to know who squealed, so I can hit them with a
brick, or at least drop a hot cup of coffee in their lap.
“Never mind who told
me. Is it true?” I pause a little too long, trying to decide whether to lie or
downplay the details. “Damn it, Trina, you just don’t learn. Those Sully boys
are trouble. If you’re not getting mixed up with one, it’s the other.”
I’m not going to bother
to argue. I’m not going to point out that Austin and Shane have had a bad
reputation for no good reason since they were just seven and eight when their dad died in a car accident, leaving an
overworked mom to wrangle two upset, confused kids while working twelve hours a
day to feed them. I’m not going to point out that neither of them had an arrest
record until Bud’s dad decided to make himself
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