Say It's Forever Page 2

  “This is it,” I rumbled low.

  Warily, she eased back to inspect the shop.

  Iron Ride was ten-thousand-square-feet of pure bliss.

  A sanctuary.

  Where I found my joy. Where I found new purpose. Where I created beauty when my past life had created devastation.

  It was all thick, brick walls, gleaming black floors, and massive steel bay doors.

  Bikes in varying states of renovation were in different bays and workspaces. A few classic cars were situated about, too.

  You knew when you brought your baby into Iron Ride that you were getting first class. The equipment was state-of-the-art, place ultra-clean and ultra-modern.

  Still, it remained authentic.

  “Wow.” She breathed it.

  Slowly, I shifted, taking her hand to help her off.

  She stumbled back onto her heels to the side of my bike.

  My damned breath hitched in my throat.

  Bright lights glowed from where they were hung from the rafters, and for the first time, I got a good look at her.

  The girl was devastation wrapped in a black, seductive bow.

  Ebony hair and eyes the color of a toiling sea. The darkest, deepest blue. An abyss where it’d be so easy to get lost. That soaked white tee stuck to the contours of her curvy, pin-up body.

  She wasn’t exactly tall, but with those heels, she looked like a force.

  A motherfuckin’ knockout.

  A fantasy.

  A dream.

  My dick twitched, and my mouth went dry.

  Her eyes were doing the same thing to me. Taking me in. Something flaring in the depths and radiating out.

  It was the same feeling that had erupted when she’d touched me before.

  Yanking her attention from me, she looked around. She huffed out a sarcastic sound as she flung out both arms. “Awesome.”

  My eyebrow quirked. “Yeah?”

  Because it didn’t sound like she was impressed.

  Once again, her arms were crossed over her chest, and I was doing my damned best not to notice the way it pushed up her perfect tits.

  “Do you think I can afford this? I mean, what is this place?” Her accusation jerked my focus back to her eyes.

  “Told you…it’s my shop.”

  “Um, yeah, and it looks like you should be on one of those TV shows where you have wars to see which shop can make the showiest bike, and I’m pretty sure I can’t afford that.”

  “We can talk about that tomorrow.”

  Her head shook. “No, we can’t. When I say I can’t afford it, I mean it.”

  She dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. She dialed a number and pressed it to her ear before she began to frantically pace in a five-foot radius. “Come on, come on, come on.”

  She curdled a frustrated scream in her throat and held her phone out in front of her, eyeing it like it was single-handedly responsible for her predicament. “Why the hell isn’t it going through?” she grumbled.

  I climbed from my bike. “Storms always throw the service.”

  “Shit,” she hissed, glaring at her phone like it’d grown horns. She swung her attention back to me. “I need to get home.”

  I tossed a glance at the open garage door where the skies continued to dump. “Don’t think that’s going to happen right now, darlin’.”

  Her mouth pinched in worry, and something that looked like dread twisted through her being.

  My head angled as I took her in, trying to keep from spitting the words. “You have a man waitin’ on you?”

  She choked a pained sound. “No.”

  She looked like she wanted to kick herself for admitting it, while relief flooded through me, as deep as the rain.

  Idiot.

  Couldn’t stop it, though.

  “You’re safe here. Promise you.”

  She stilled, and our gazes tangled.

  Thunderbolt eyes sparked in the light.

  Deep and dark.

  Ghosts welled from their depths.

  Felt them tugging at my heart.

  Compelling me to look closer.

  Drawn.

  Like I should recognize something in this girl that just wasn’t there.

  Magic.

  I blinked to break me out of the stupor.

  “We’re just going to have to wait it out,” I added.

  In exasperation, she glanced down at her soaked clothes.

  “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll find you something dry to change into.”

  Her brows shot for the ceiling. “Excuse me?”

  A rough chuckle tumbled from my chest, and I took two steps her direction. “I live upstairs.”

  Disbelieving laughter rolled from her throat. “You’re serious?”

  “Yup.”

  “And you want me just to follow you up there?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  She waved an erratic hand. “For my car to actually work. That would be a great idea.”

  A smile tweaked at the corner of my mouth. “That’s called a dream, baby, not an idea.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  A tease of a laugh left my lips before everything softened when I saw a shiver race across her body. “Come on, let’s get you dried off. You’re freezing, and the only thing I want right now is a shower and a beer, and I’m guessing you’re feeling about the same.”

  “This is insane.”

  “Insane is standing here freezing our asses off when we could be getting warm.”

  I didn’t think it prudent to mention all the ways I could conjure warming her up.

  Maybe she saw them play out in my mind, anyway, because she glowered at me as she gave. “Touch me and I stab you.”

  Could feel the grin split my face. “You’ve made that much clear, darlin’.” Unable to stop myself, I edged closer, voice soft when I murmured close to her ear, “And who said I wanted to touch you?”

  Oh, I did, but I kinda wanted to mess with the little wildcat, too.

  Trembles rocked her.

  Energy lashed.

  Attraction so fierce I was itching on my feet.

  “Just so we’re clear,” she gritted.

  My grin turned into a full-fledged smirk. “Crystal.”

  Her spine straightened in all that rigid defiance, her hair smelling like toasted coconut, sex radiating from her skin.

  Intoxicating.

  “Good.” The word was hard as she hissed it between her lips.

  “Good,” I rumbled back, hitting the button to close the garage door and striding for the metal stairway that ran the far back wall and led to my loft above.

  I could hear her heels clacking along behind me.

  Her presence was potent.

  Overpowering as I bounded upstairs.

  Girl followed me step for step.

  At the landing at the top, I punched in the code at the door and swiveled around to face her. The breath hitched in my lungs all over again at the look on her face.

  The dread and the relief.

  My heart fisted while my head spun.

  Enchantress.

  “What’s your name, darlin’?”

  She hesitated a beat before she whispered, “Salem.”

  A disbelieving chuckle got loose without my permission.

  Yeah.

  Black-fuckin’-magic.

  TWO

  SALEM

  “Come on in, darlin’. Don’t be shy. Make yourself at home.” The man’s voice was basically sandpaper, rough and raw, though it somehow carried an undertone of casualness.

  My heart thudded. A wild stampede that beat out ahead of me as I inched toward the door Jud Lawson left open.

  I had to have lost my mind.

  Following this stranger into his apartment.

  Giving him my name like it didn’t matter.

  Hell, getting on his bike in the first place.

  Like he could command any truth out of me, and I had no power to control it, eve
n when I knew better than giving him anything.

  But I’d called my brother about fifteen times while I’d been stranded out in the rain in the middle of nowhere. Each call had gone without an answer.

  My spirit had sunk deeper into hopelessness with each attempt.

  It’s funny how I’d prayed for help, then I’d wanted to turn around and refuse it when the single headlight had come spearing through the storm.

  As if he were some kind of wicked savior, the man had emerged through the hazy darkness.

  Bearded and muscled and covered in tattoos.

  An imposing force.

  A liberator or a conqueror, I couldn’t be sure.

  The only thing I’d known was my knees had knocked and my stomach had flipped and every ounce of self-preservation I possessed had flared in warning at my recklessness.

  But when you were desperate? You were left with few options, and the ones you were given you had little choice but to take.

  Which was precisely the reason why I warily stepped through the door at the top of the stairwell and into his loft.

  My eyes raced to take it in. It was just as massive and over-the-top as his shop downstairs. Everything was matte black, burnt metal, and expensive leather.

  Rugged and rough and jaw-dropping.

  Just like the man.

  Jud Lawson moved ahead of me. Each step of his boots across the black bamboo floors sent a shockwave of heat blistering through the cool air.

  I fought for conviction. To remain unaffected and aloof.

  Not to be the fool that melted on the floor in a puddle of need at his feet.

  Accomplishing it would be a feat of nature because the man was outrageously gorgeous.

  Forbiddingly so.

  So ridiculously tall and wide he had to double me in size.

  Intimidating and raw.

  Nothing but a beast of a man with this sexy, devilish smile.

  And somehow, he seemed soft at the same time, rippling with this charm that tweaked the edges of his plush, sexy mouth and sent a skitter fumbling through my chest.

  The hardest part was the way he kept looking at me with these obsidian eyes that were darker than the night. That gaze left no question that if I gave him the chance, he would devour me.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I stepped into the loft on shaky legs. I was soaked through, dripping, unsure of what to do.

  I wrung my fingers.

  The man felt my pause, and he shifted to look back at me with mischief playing across his handsome face.

  My stomach twisted in a show of want.

  Crap.

  I knew better, I knew better.

  But attraction was something you couldn’t control.

  It was instant.

  Unstoppable.

  Awakened in a beat before you even knew what was happening.

  So, I’d deal with it. Not act on it.

  Lifting my chin, I gestured at myself.

  I shouldn’t have.

  Because those eyes swept over me, head to toe.

  Energy lashed.

  A crackle in the air.

  A whip of lust.

  “I’m wet.” I said it like a challenge.

  His tongue darted out like he was suddenly thirsty.

  Shit.

  I took a slippery step back, realizing what I’d said. Where his mind had gone. My thighs pressed together because with the way he kept looking at me, it was the truth.

  But seriously, he just wanted me to go parading into this ridiculous luxury that he called a house? It looked like a friggin’ showroom for pretentious masculinity.

  Except the man—the man didn’t look so uptight.

  A rough chuckle scraped from his throat, and I was wishing it didn’t sound so nice.

  “As am I, darlin’.”

  He gestured at the giant wet footprints he’d left in his wake.

  My throat tremored and my tongue swept my dried lips.

  Double crap.

  He chuckled more, the deep sound mixing with the pour of the rain on the roof. It was a low whirr that whispered and cast a hazy tone over the space. Lightning flashed at the windows and thunder rumbled through the heavens.

  “Wait right there.”

  He turned and hulked away, across the living area that took up the right side of the open-concept loft, through the kitchen, and toward the set of double doors at the far back wall.

  The man was nothing but bristling, thick muscle, arms and legs bound in overbearing strength.

  The exposed skin on his arms was covered in a labyrinth of ink.

  His stride was long and purposed, easy, but still, there was a hint of harshness in his stance. I knew in that confidence the man was no stranger to hazard and jeopardy. He would strike in the face of danger, and his opponent was unlikely to make it out unscathed on the other side.

  He disappeared through the double doors.

  My pulse thudded and beat while I stood there waiting like a fool. I glanced at my phone again, cringing when I saw I still hadn’t received a word.

  They’d be worried.

  Hell, I was worried.

  But if my calls weren’t going through, neither would theirs.

  A minute later, Jud came striding back out, though he’d ditched his boots, and his feet were bare. He carried a stack of clothes and a towel.

  “Not much, but at least you can grab a shower and get into something dry until the storm blows over. We’ll get your clothes into the dryer.”

  A soft smile hitched his mouth as he moved my way.

  My spirit flailed.

  Sweet and intense and intimidating.

  That combo promised he might be the most dangerous man I’d ever met.

  This flirty charm that radiated from his being, sure to wrap every unsuspecting female around his fingers. Salivating for a taste of what he had to offer.

  That shock of pitch-black hair on his head was wet, longer on top, sticking to the stony angles of his face.

  His thick beard was the same color as his hair. A beard I had to fight the sudden urge to run my fingers through when he offered me the pile of fresh clothes.

  The man was nothing but a tease and a trap.

  “There you go.” He tipped his head toward the row of three doors on the opposite side of the room. “Guest room is third door on the left. Get yourself a shower.”

  Our fingers touched when he passed me the stack. Shivers raced, a flashfire across my flesh.

  He angled in, his voice so low and rough, “You need to get warmed up, darlin’. You’re cold.”

  A fingertip trailed my wrist where a rash of chills lifted.

  He eased back, those obsidian eyes sparking with mirth.

  Jerk.

  He knew exactly what he was doing to me. Still, I mumbled, “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, gorgeous. Like I said, make yourself at home. I’m going to grab a shower, too.”

  I leaned down and twisted the stupid heels off my feet so I didn’t leave a trail of pockmarks on his floors. I dangled them from my fingers and clutched the pile of clothes in the other hand. I padded as quickly as I could across the floor in the direction of the door he had pointed to, feeling the warmth of his gaze on me the whole time.

  This was insane, but truth be told, I was freezing, the trembling starting from deep within.

  It didn’t help when the AC came on and started to pump cold air into the space.

  At the doorway, I paused to peer back. The man remained across the room.

  His stare intent. His being profound.

  There was something about him that was so big and overwhelming, and it didn’t have a thing to do with his size.

  No doubt, I should fear it, so I figured it was a big, big problem that I suddenly felt comfort under his watch. Safety in his refuge. Damned stupid.

  I knew better than to trust anyone, and here I was in this stranger’s house, and not a soul knew where I was.

  I tore myself from the hook of who he
was and rushed the rest of the way into the bedroom. It was dark inside, and I shut the door, quick to lock it. I turned and rested against the door, struggling for a breath. To get myself under control. To shake myself out of whatever fantasy I felt like I might be falling into.

  But there was something about tonight that made it feel like none of this was real.

  Outside reality.

  Because I didn’t do things like this. Was never so reckless. The last four years had been lived in complete caution. One foot moving and one eye over my shoulder. No room for mistakes or missteps.

  But my brother had convinced me it was safe to come to this small town where he’d brought our grandmother to live three months ago.

  Years had passed.

  Years of running.

  Years of barely existing.

  He’d insisted it was time, and we couldn’t keep on the way we had.

  My chest clutched, and I rocked my head back against the wood of the door.

  God, I had to believe him. Had to cling to the hope of that truth.

  Laughing off the confusion of it, I pushed from the door and moved to the en suite bathroom.

  I flipped on the light.

  It was every bit as ostentatious as the rest of the loft.

  Exposed white brick walls with reclaimed wood floating counters that had been stained black. The fixtures were roughened gold, and the floors and the entire back wall behind the shower were a matrix of white and black. The shower was clear glass, open on one side with a rain shower hanging from the ceiling.

  Well then.

  I set the clean clothes on the counter and rushed to turn the faucet all the way to hot. I peeled off my drenched clothes and left them in a wet heap on the floor as steam began to fill the bathroom.

  I stepped into the heated spray, and a moan whimpered free at the feel of the water hitting my skin.

  At the chills that raced from the contrast of hot and cold.

  I blew out a relieved sigh.

  Suddenly…thankful.

  So extremely thankful.

  I always expected the worst in people, and in the luxury of this shower, I couldn’t help the thought that this guy might actually be nice.

  Genuine and good.

  I steeled myself against it.

  Trusting only made you vulnerable. Put you in a position where you could be hurt.