Overdrive (Santa Lena Sizzles series Book 3) Read online

  She had to hold on to the door for support.

  1

  Three Months Later

  Vivienne

  “Seriously, woman. When was the last time you got yourself L-A-I-D?” Audrey spelled out right there in the middle of our office. Holy Hannah, the woman had no filter. Not to mention her twins, Nick and Levi, who were currently playing tag, were nearly of age to figure out her code.

  Audrey was the wife of our manager, Murray. She told it like it was and took no prisoners, which was hilarious when aimed at her husband. Perhaps less so when directed at you.

  I raised an eyebrow. “I do all right for myself, thank you very much.” Which was a total freaking lie. It had been months since I did the nasty with someone. Three months to be more precise. Dry spells happened, but this last one was self-imposed. I swore to myself that I wasn’t going to get involved with any more senseless, meaningless, going nowhere relationships. Then I had a one-night stand with my ride-share app driver.

  It was a slip, a bleep, a minor infraction. I tried not to even count it. Except when I thought about him. Which was every day and every night. Especially the nights. That man was extremely talented in the bedroom department. He’d more than left a lasting impression, believe me.

  When I asked him to leave the next day, I actually felt bad. The look on his face still gutted me. I think he genuinely assumed we’d be more than a one-night stand. He was young. Like ten years or more younger than me. At thirty-seven, I was running out of time.

  Women of a certain age eventually had to stop fooling around and start looking for a serious relationship if they wanted a family. Every night when I looked in the mirror, it depressed me to think I’d wasted another day and was that much closer to Doomsday, the day when my remaining eggs just shriveled up and died.

  That was why I kicked the bright-eyed, mischievous boy out of my bed, even though there was nothing more in this world that I would rather have done than fool around with him for a while. I had my diminishing eggs to think about. See? Depressing.

  Nobody knew that I wanted a family—it wasn’t something I ever spoke about. Well, except for Dean, my boss at Brentford Organics, a food/produce supply company that I’d worked at for years. I was their salesperson and I did quite well if I said so myself. Even though Dean was my boss, he’d also evolved into my friend and confidant.

  “We should have a girls’ night out to find Vivienne a man.” Harper practically bounced on her chair. “It’s been ages since we’ve all been out together.” Harper was our administrative assistant. She was great, even though she’d recently found her Mr. Right. His name was Jack. Jack was a successful restaurateur, tall, dark, and handsome, and the man could cook. I mean, of course, he could. He was a chef. Truth be told, I was a little jealous of their relationship.

  Never would I begrudge them their happiness. It was hard fought. Harper’s ex-husband nearly beat Jack to death one night a couple of months ago. It all turned out okay in the end, but it was one of the most frightening things I’d ever heard. The fact that it all happened to people I knew made it even scarier.

  “It’s been ages because someone just wants to stay home with her shit-hot boyfriend instead of going out with her girls anymore,” Audrey said in an accusatory tone, waving her deep, golden brown finger at Harper.

  “Who could blame her?” I added because it was true. She’d found her happily ever after and was enjoying the heck out of him.

  “Not me, that’s for damn sure. That man gives me an all over body flush every time I see him,” Audrey chimed back.

  Harper frowned. “You guys need to stop talking about my boyfriend. Enough already. Sheesh. Audrey, what if Murray hears you calling my boyfriend hot?”

  A deep exhale was heard from Murray’s door. “Too late. Audrey talks at length to me about Jack’s hotness,” he said, rolling his eyes. “My wife has no shame.”

  “Why should I?” Audrey answered back. “You need to take cooking lessons from that man. Just think of all the things you could make me.”

  “Mom’s got girlses’ night again, Dad. Auntie Vivienne’s gotta trap a husband before she gets scrambled eggs,” Nick said, always ready to inform his father, or anyone else for that matter.

  “No, stupid, before her eggs get dried up.” Levi rebutted, smacking his brother on the head.

  “Owww, Mom,” Nick cried at top volume to his mother who was currently all of four feet away.

  “Boys, stop, or no electronics for the rest of the day,” Murray said in his best dad voice while manhandling his five year old spawn away from each other.

  “Good Lord, don’t threaten that. Are you crazy? How am I supposed to get a moment’s peace if they ain’t got video games? Leave it to a man who’s gone all day to say such helpful things,” Audrey said in her best don’t-mess-with-my-electronic-babysitter voice.

  Luckily, Murray chose his battles well. He quickly turned around, then marched back to his office without a word.

  “Men.” Audrey shook her head, throwing her hands up in the air.

  “There’s a new steakhouse that just opened up. How about we start there? Maybe see how the evening unfolds?” Harper said as she gathered important papers on her desk that the twins were trying to make into paper airplanes.

  “I’m fine, really. You guys don’t need to,” I began, but Audrey cut me off.

  “Girl, we know it’s your birthday coming up. We were tryin’ to make it a surprise. The surprise will be on us if you don’t show up to your own party. Thirty-seven is a big milestone for a woman. You’ve got no man, no kids, and that big ol’ house all by your lonesome. Only a hot man can help you fill it up, so we’re gonna help you out with that,” Audrey lectured, shaking her finger at me like I was one of her errant children.

  Shit, I didn’t realize they knew my birthday was around the corner. I guess Harper could have easily found out my age. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t embarrassed about how old I was. But I still blushed a bit at Audrey’s words. Apparently, I hadn’t fooled anyone by not sharing my desire for a family.

  “I love my house. Plus, I got a great deal on it. The architecture drew me in, not a need for a family,” I said, trying my best to deflect the attention from my formerly secret intentions.

  “Mmhmm, I don’t think so. No smart, sexy businesswoman buys a fixer-upper like that except to stuff it full of kids,” Audrey said, eyebrows raised. “Smart, sexy, single businesswomen who don’t want kids buy brand new digs in our area of town.” Murray and Audrey bought and built in the newest development in Santa Lena, California. It was a beautiful home, but it lacked soul.

  Harper cleared her throat in an attempt to change the subject. “Saturday work for everyone? I can be the designated driver.”

  Audrey shooed her suggestion away with one hand. “Let’s meet at the birthday girl’s house and call a car from there. No reason for anyone to miss out on the fun. Invite Riley, too. She’s always good to have around in case we end up in trouble of some kind.” The woman spoke the truth. Riley, Harper’s neighbor and friend, had a sixth sense with ninja skills to boot. How she’d learned those skills working at a law office, we had no idea.

  “Sounds good to me,” I lied, wishing instead for a quiet night in front of the television, drowning the sorrow of one more year with no husband or children in a pint or two of ice cream.

  Jason

  Not the ideal way to spend a Saturday evening, but every so often, it was fun to connect with other drivers. No one else could commiserate with you quite as much as someone who knew the biz.

  “…and the fucking sand those slobs left behind in my car was unbelievable,” Leon said, shaking his head. “My car smelled like seaweed for a week.”

  “I hate beach calls. The money is great, but the cleanup isn’t worth it,” I said, agreeing with him.

  “Change of subject, before I get even hotter under the collar,” Leon said, adding a fifth creamer to his coffee. It was more like a dessert than coffee now. “Te
ll me about your latest female escapade. I gotta live vicariously through you.” He looked up, giving me a half-grin, ready for whatever I had to give him.

  Surprisingly, I had nothing to offer him, other than tales of me and my right hand in the shower. I figured he likely knew those stories all too well. “I’ve got nothing for you, buddy,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

  An odd scowl replaced his former grin. “You holding out on me? Come on, a young stud like you must have some good stories since the last time I saw ya.”

  That was the thing. Normally, I had a story or two to share. “Nah, dry spell, I guess,” I lied, grabbing my soda. Truth be told, there was a certain curvy blonde that had taken up residence in my brain. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t evict her.

  “Seriously? What the fuck?”

  “I’ve been busy. No time for my usual antics,” I said, sipping my drink. What I didn’t tell Leon was that I’d come close to having some very good stories to tell, but my fucking mind wouldn’t let me. Whenever I got past the flirting stage, something in me just lost interest. That something was Mr. Woody. Lately, I’d begun calling him Mr. Limpy.

  “I’m disappointed in you, man. Get your shit together and get back out there.”

  Right at that moment, Leon’s phone went off, telling him of an available fare. “Ah, shit. It’s in West Gate. That area’s a crapshoot. Could be good, could be bad.”

  My ears perked up when he said West Gate. Actually, so did Mr. Woody. Damn, he was temperamental. Couldn’t blame him, though. Once you’ve had filet, it was hard to go back to flank. Near fucking impossible.

  Out of curiosity, and hoping against hope, I slid Leon’s phone around and peeked at the address. My heart stopped beating. I needed to get this fare. “You know, I’ll take this one if you don’t want it. I like that area.”

  Leon laughed. “Yeah, right. Money’s money. I can’t afford to turn stuff down.”

  Shit. I was going to have to up the ante.

  2

  Jason

  Sweaty palms? Check. Racing heart? Check. Devil-may-care grin? Check.

  I was down half a night’s wage after bribing Leon to let me take this call. Something deep inside of me knew it was the right thing to do and would pay off in a big way for me later. My three-month dry spell was almost up, I could feel it.

  Seconds after I parked, four giggly women tripped out the front door. Only three continued their journey to my car. Harper opened the passenger side door and screamed, “Vivienne, it’s your driver.” I smiled, nodding my head at her. Less than a week after my one-night stand with Vivienne, I’d picked up Harper from a classy downtown apartment building. She came out wearing the most hilarious T-shirt she’d obviously stolen from her own rendezvous.

  Vivienne had passed my name to her, which I thought was a hell of a nice thing to do despite the fact the woman broke my heart. And Mr. Woody. A hot, leggy blonde got in first and offered a “Hello”. Then a tall, loud woman slid in beside her complaining about not enough leg room.

  Harper left the passenger door open and got in the back with her friends.

  “Jason, this is Riley and Audrey,” Harper introduced us. My attention was focused on the sexy woman I’d slept with all those months ago. Fuck, she looked edible. My mouth watered as my brain remembered the taste of her on my lips. My jeans strained at the sight of her in that tight red dress, tits practically spilling out the top. Jesus. Even from here she was a sight to behold.

  “What the hell is taking that woman so long? Open that door,” Audrey said and reached over Harper to open the door herself. “Get your ass in here, birthday girl.” Birthday girl? Hmm, did I have a present waiting for her.

  Vivienne turned around and locked the door before slowly creeping down her steps in the most tantalizing, teasing way. All the best parts of her jiggled as she made her way around to my window.

  “Hi,” she said and threw her blonde curls behind her.

  “How’s it going?” I asked, not giving one shit that my eyes leisurely raked her from head to toe and back again.

  “Can I talk to you?” she requested and motioned her head away from the car.

  “Shoot,” I said and couldn’t help the smile that overtook my face.

  “Not here.” She frowned, like I didn’t know what she meant. I knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted me to fuck the hell off but not make a scene in front of her friends.

  Well, tough shit. My cock was standing at attention now that she was so close I could smell her, and there was no sign of him retreating anytime soon. No way was I standing up with him on the prowl. And how was I supposed to charm my way into her red lace panties? I’d bet my right nut she was wearing underwear to match the bra strap that slipped slightly down her shoulder.

  “I’m good here. Talk away,” I said sarcastically. Her heels scuffed on the road as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  “Not here.” She enunciated slowly and clearly.

  “Cut the bullshit and get in the car,” I replied, equally as annoyed now. She wasn’t going to order me around. Again. Been there, done that.

  “Ohhh, did you hear that? This is gettin’ good,” Audrey unsuccessfully attempted to whisper. That was like asking a freight train to be quiet.

  “One minute of your time,” she pleaded, and I almost caved. Almost.

  “I’m not getting out of my car. Now stop holding me up. I’ve got other fares.”

  She huffed, stomped to the open passenger door, and slammed it with all her might after she slipped in beside me. Her floral perfume washed over me, and I swear I felt light-headed. “Happy birthday,” I said, smirking at her.

  Her eyes cut to me and she responded with a dry, “Thanks.”

  “So then, we jumped out of that fucking pool so fast, all naked of course, then climbed the wire fence and ran back to my car like there was no tomorrow.” They all laughed right on cue. Even Vivienne chuckled despite herself. She’d relaxed a bit once she realized I wasn’t going to bite. Yet.

  “What the hell did you do for clothes?” Vivienne asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

  “Well, I always carry an extra set in the back of the car—occupational hazard. Then I drove around to a few late night stores and picked up a bunch of I LOVE SANTA LENA T-shirts. It was enough to cover up and not be too embarrassed when I dropped them off. Their neighbors just thought they really loved our city.” More laughs.

  We arrived at the new steakhouse. The occupants of the back seat thanked me as they vacated quickly.

  “I’ll wait for you guys,” I told Vivienne once we were alone.

  “That’s not a good idea. Thanks for the ride,” she said, attempting to exit.

  I grabbed her elbow before she got too far, my body rejoicing at finally touching her. “You look fucking hot tonight, Fancy Girl,” I practically groaned as my thumb stroked her soft skin. Desire gripped me at the contact.

  Her resistance wavered as her eyes bore into mine, just like they had on our first night and only night. Instinctively, my body leaned into hers. Fuck, I missed her. Those candy-pink lips parted as she slowly licked them. Fuck. Me.

  Watching her tongue move, I imagined her doing the same thing to my cock. Jesus, she was hot. My dick rose to the occasion, causing an even larger ache than before. Honest to God, I couldn’t help glancing down at her delicious cleavage. My heart sped up to an impossible beat thinking about caressing those creamy rich mounds. Her nipples hardened immediately, changing my ache to a full-on throb.

  That mouth. The pure need to taste her—to sweep my greedy tongue into that inviting mouth overtook every thought. I lifted my hand, but at the last possible moment, she turned her head.

  So close, but yet so far away.

  “Bye. Have a good evening,” she muttered. Her head faced the opposite direction as she fumbled with the door handle, leaving me in the dust.

  Or so she thought.

  3

  Vivienne

  Wha
t the actual hell was I doing? And why? All because I didn’t want to look like a wuss in front of our hot driver. Why Jason waited for us at the restaurant—for three hours—didn’t know. The only thing I knew for sure right then was that my girl parts were dancing around as he held my hand in his big hot one. He smirked down at me while the top of my dress skimmed my nipple. Sheesh, just the look on his face alone made my panties almost explode.

  His stare fell lower to my breasts, causing them to swell. I cursed my already taut nipples for betraying my thoughts. My thighs clenched together, remembering how thoroughly he worshiped my breasts all those months ago.

  I had to stop thinking about sex.

  “Son of a biscuit,” I cried but didn’t move. No sense in going through all that pain if you moved and screwed everything up. At least the stinging torture relieved the agony of the sexual tension for the moment.

  “You’re doing phenomenal. So brave. Just a bit longer, then you’ll be all done,” he said as he used a cool towel to carefully mop the beads of sweat on my forehead.

  He was being so nice. “Easy for you to say since yours is already done.”

  I flinched at the sound of the tattoo gun starting back up. “Can you give us a few minutes?” Jason asked the artist, who immediately obliged, then sauntered off to a back room. “Look at me,” Mr. Hot and Heavy said in a husky, low voice. I stared up at his handsome movie star face and melted. It just wasn’t fair to be that pretty. He leaned in closer, his warm breath on the bare skin of my neck and chest driving me mad. The slightly leathery smell of his jacket mixed with the earthy cologne he wore made me yearn to drag his hot body onto mine. “He’s almost done, Fancy Girl. It looks gorgeous. Just like you,” he said, then touched his lips to my hand. A blush traveled down my body. My breathing sped up, as did my heart. The traitors.