- Fast cars. Strong women. Hot dudes. Mustang Sassy is a one wild ride!
- Sass Hogan is a passionate and straight-shooting auto body specialist who is as fiery as the flame licks tattooed on her backside. So, it’s no surprise that after catching her boyfriend slow-dancing and doing the tongue-tango with Tori Double-D-Cup Hunter, Sass pays him back the only way she knows how—by taking a tire iron to his beloved ’67 Mustang Fastback. There’s only one problem. She’s destroyed the wrong car and the real owner, Jordan Michaels, expects Hogan’s Restorations to fix it. However, things aren’t what they seem, as Jordan Michaels is really Jordan Carlyle of Carlyle’s Classics, Hogan’s biggest competitor. Yet, the moment Sass meets Jordan, the handsome blond giant who is totally wrong for her, she can’t keep her impertinent opinions nor her hands—and other essential body parts—to herself. The depth of the attraction and the growing deceit between Sass and Jordan have them poised to either fall deeply in love or to be involved in the worst wreck of their lives.
Insistent tapping on her driver side window took her by surprise. She jerked, and in the process accidentally laid on the horn. Lights came on in adjacent rooms and someone poked their head out, shouting a string of obscenities.
Jordan called out an apology, knocked again, and made a turning motion with his hand. She rolled down the window and he leaned into the opening. “You okay?”
He cocked his head to one side. “Did you…want to come in for a minute?”
She rubbed her lips together, considering his offer. If she went in, it was to tell him the truth. That was all. “Um. Okay.”
She rolled the window up and climbed out of the car. Her palms were sweating and her breath was coming hard and fast. He opened the door and she followed him in. The rooms at the Greenwood were all the same. White walls, brown carpet, two queen-size beds with peach comforters and pictures of woodland scenes hanging above. A small, round table and bar-sized fridge and three lamps with yellow shades.
God. The room brought back so many memories. Some good. Most bad.
“Was there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Did you want to sit down?” He motioned to the bed.
Sass shook her head.
The two of them stared at each other, neither moving. Was he breathing hard, too? Was that why his chest was rising and falling like that? Then she noticed his eye again. It wasn’t completely swollen shut, but it was pretty bad. She pointed. “You should put some ice on it.”
He touched his face. “Yeah. I will.” Then he took a step toward her.
Why was it so hard to breathe? It was like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. She tugged on the neck of her T-shirt.
His eyes followed. They lingered. Then, he swept his gaze back up to her face. “You sure you’re okay?” He took another step forward.
He was too close. She could smell his aftershave. She could hear the sound of his breath and she’d been right. He was breathing heavy. Panting. Like her.
She licked her lips and Jordan’s gaze dropped to her mouth. He took one more step toward her, and they were almost touching. With each chaotic breath, the material of her shirt grazed his. His skin was warm. Sass could tell because the sliver of air between them was sweltering.
He was so close now, she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. Even his good eyelid was at half-mast.
There was no stopping her. Sass was on him like Velcro. She mashed herself against him, pulling his head down to hers and kissed him like her life depended on it. She slipped her tongue inside his mouth and slid her hands down to his wonderfully firm backside. His groan spurred her on.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he said when he came up for air.
“No, we shouldn’t.”
She thought he might stop then, particularly when he captured her hands in the midst of her undoing his belt buckle. But he didn’t stop her. Oh no. He backed her up against the door, raised her arms above her head, and brought his mouth down on hers…like he meant it. Like he wanted her as desperately and illogically as she wanted him. God, he felt so good, his big, hard body, his soft lips. It was exactly what she needed. For the first time in days, Sass’s anxious energy began to ease.
He released her wrists and slid his hands up underneath her shirt, massaging her breasts, and squeezing her nipples. Oh, yes. Sass gave herself over to the sensual haze of his hands on her flesh, a little rough, igniting sparks inside her chest and tummy. Her breath rasped in and out of her lungs and her hands tingled as she slid them from the wall to Jordan’s shoulders
When he whispered, “Do you know how sexy it is that you don’t wear a bra?” She could only murmur an incoherent response because what he was doing to her felt so damned good and…oh! He managed to pull her shirt off and leaned down to nibble her, first one nipple and then the other, sending flames through her chest, and tremors down her belly and lower. No one had paid her breasts much attention before. Sass was convinced that if he just kept doing what he was doing, she’d feel more relief than she had in a very long time.
Except that he stopped. She opened her eyes and he was watching her with a pained expression. “We can’t do this,” he said, out of breath.
“I know.” She threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his head and guided him back down to her chest.
Oh yes! That was better. His tongue was so talented. Oh! And, his teeth? Good God. She arched her back to give him better access and then got to work on the buttons of his shirt. To feel his big, solid warmth against her? That would be heaven. Absolute heaven.
There. Ah. Better than she thought. His chest was hard as steel but also warm and delicious. She ran her hands up and down his sides and over his broad shoulders. So strong. So wonderfully strong. She arched into him and he groaned.
“Sass. We should stop.”
“Yeah, we should.” she said, panting.
He took her hands again and spread her arms, pinning her while he nuzzled her neck. “Why do you have to be the sexiest goddamned woman I’ve ever met,” he murmured.
It was a lie. It had to be, but damn if it didn’t do the trick. A few words, a little white lie, and she vibrated with eagerness. His hips ground into her—hard— just the way she liked it, and she hoped she’d never come down from the exquisite tingling sensation that encompassed her whole body.
He moaned as he circled against her. “Tell me to stop.”
“Later.” She moved up on tiptoe, trying to coordinate the deliciousness behind his fly with the heat at the apex of her jeans.
“No.” He pressed her shoulders into the door. “It’s now or never.”
“I choose never.”