Jacked Up (Hard n' Dirty) Read online

  “Excuse me?” he asks, in a low growl that makes my belly clench.

  “I said fine,” I repeat, but less terse this time. I’m irritated that he’s making me waste my breath like this. “Let’s do it.”

  He gives me another look, then shakes his head and points to the phones. He picks it up and shows me how to hold and transfer calls.

  “Perfect,” I mutter, wondering how I’m going to disinfect the phone every time I need to use it. I may need gloves or something. I stand in front of the phone like a soldier prepared for battle. I came, I saw, I will conquer. To my surprise, he’s behind me now, trying to show me what to do on the phone, but he’s effectively caging me in against the desk. I shiver.

  “Think you’ve got it?” he asks.

  I’m starving and grumpy and my feet hurt, so I snap. “Whatever. You can go back to the shop now.”

  His heat warms my back, and he’s way too damn close. His voice comes up to my ear, rough and raspy and stern as fuck. “Not a fan of your tone of voice right now, little girl,” he says in my ear.

  For some reason, that makes my body do strange, terrible things.

  No one’s ever called me little girl before. I’m suddenly vulnerable, and I don’t like it.

  “I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about,” I snap. I turn to him but blink in surprise when I realize how close he is, so close his breath makes the tendrils of hair on my forehead skitter across my skin.

  “Yeah, you do,” he says, in a knowing rumble. “So you watch that tone of voice.”

  I try to frown at him, but my glare is like a little matchstick trying to stand up to a roaring fire. When he scowls, and I take an involuntary step back.

  “I told you yesterday my employees have rules,” he grits out. “The first I have for you is no backtalk.” He reaches over, and to my shock, tugs a strand of my hair.

  “Ow!”

  “The second rule, you do nothing stupid and dangerous.”

  “What?”

  He shakes his head and I swallow.

  “Third,” he plows on, “and this is important, so pay attention.” His voice lowers and deepens. “Only mechanics enter the shop.”

  I nod dumbly.

  “Catching on?”

  “Yep.”

  “You’re a smart girl.”

  I nod and huff out a breath. “Yeah. Okay. Yes, sir.” I try to make it sound mocking, but it doesn’t quite work.

  What does he do if I break those rules? Fire me? Something tells me it’s worse than that.

  He points to the desk and for one crazy minute I expect him to tell me to bend over it, like he wants to spank me or fuck me or maybe both and hell if the idea doesn’t make my hands shake.

  “Pick up the phone, Tanya,” he whispers in my ear.

  I do what he says, my hands shaking.

  “Good girl.” He reaches around me, his heat surrounding me like a circle of fire. I look at his tats. Even his fingers are tattooed, all up and down the front and sides.

  “God, did it hurt?” I ask.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Those hand tats.”

  He huffs out a breath, almost like a laugh but not quite. “Yeah, babe. Tattoos hurt.” Then he shrugs and his voice drops. “But sometimes, even things that hurt feel good.”

  What the hell is he talking about? Damn it, I wanna know. I want him to hurt me good.

  Wait, what? Who the hell am I?

  He shows me a whole bunch of things and even though it makes sense, I’m not sure I’m not gonna fuck this up when it’s time.

  “When I’m in the shop you take a message. Unless it’s a life or death emergency, I’ll return the calls on lunch.”

  “Got it, boss,” I say, wiping a hand across my brow. I give him a salute as he prepares to head back in the shop.

  As soon as the door clangs shut behind him, the phone rings. I turn and look at it as if it’s the command center for NASA. What was I supposed to do again?

  Biting my lip, I pick up the receiving. “Hello, Jacked Up Mechanics. How can I help you?”

  I hear a dial tone. Shit. I did something wrong. I push another button, and another, and now the display’s lit up like a Christmas tree. I feel stupid. Tears blur my vision. I swallow and read the numbers on the dial, hang up the phone, and stare. Finally, with a deep breath, I lift the receiver again and hit the blinking button that says “1.” I figure it’s a good start.

  Someone starts talking to me and I huff out a sigh of relief. I take down the information, and promise Levi will call them back, then hang that one up and go to the second call. This one, however, is more insistent.

  “Put Levi on the phone,” a deep voice grits out.

  “I’m sorry, he’s in the shop right now, but I will take a—"

  “I don’t give a shit what he’s doing, I said put him on the goddamned phone.”

  “That isn’t possible, sir,” I say through gritted teeth. The next thing I know the man is screaming so loudly at me I have to hold the receiver away from my ear. He says horrible, nasty things and makes me feel like I’m about two.

  Will telling him off get me fired? I have no idea how to handle this so I put the call on hold and turn to the shop. I push the door open, and almost collide into Spade. “You’re not supposed to be in here,” he mutters. “Levi catches you in here, your ass is grass.”

  His eyes predictably travel to my ass. I glare at him and push past, looking for Levi.

  There are people all around me working, under the hoods of cars, one man spray-painting something in the back, another working with wires. All eyes come to me and work momentarily freezes. Shit. This was not a good move. I swallow, ignoring the unwanted attention.

  “Where’s Levi?” I ask in my bravest voice.

  A hush goes over the shop when I hear Levi’s voice right in my ear.

  “What the hell did I tell you about coming into this shop?”

  His hand’s on my elbow. To my chagrin, he’s marching me back into the office like a child being escorted to the principal’s office. When we get to the entrance the noise in the shop resumes but Levi yells over his shoulder, “Lunch break. Go!”

  Tools clang and voices shout at one another.

  He pushes open the door to the office, drags me in, and slams the door behind him. “I gave you three—" he begins but I interrupt him.

  “Phone call,” I say, yanking my arm out of his grip. “And I’ll have you know that man on the line screamed at me and berated me and called me all sorts of names because I told him you couldn’t talk to him right away.”

  He quirks a brow. “That right? So you decided the response was to cave and give him what he wanted?” he asks. His voice is practically a growl, so laced with heated anger I feel my cheeks warm.

  I nod and shrug at the same time. I’m embarrassed I did this, so I try to cover my embarrassment with indignation. Maybe it’ll distract him.

  “Maybe I did,” I huff out.

  “Not sure it was the smartest move,” he says, jaw clenched. “Someone acts the part of an asshole, the last thing I do is give them what they fuckin’ want.”

  Noted. Damn it.

  “Well maybe I didn’t ask you,” I snap. I look away. I’m embarrassed and I don’t want him to know.

  He lifts the receiver and points a finger at me, ordering me to stay put.

  Fuck. He isn’t done with me yet. What’ll he do?

  I look wildly around the shop for some sort of escape, but all I see is that coffee’s finally made, and the men have all taken off for lunch. The shop is empty.

  I walk over to pour myself a cup of coffee when Levi answers the phone.

  “Levi DeRocco.” A few seconds later, he barks out a stern, “Enough.”

  He pauses. I’m trying to dump little packets of half and half in my coffee but the tone of his voice catches my attention. I drop the little half and half and it splatters on the counter.

  “You do not call my office and speak to
my staff the way you did,” he grits into the phone. “Raise your voice one more time, and you can come pick up your half-finished car and pay the remainder of the invoice owed. You can tow that car to another shop that’ll put up with your shit because this ain’t one of ‘em.”

  He listens, his eyes still fixed on me. “You’ll apologize to my desk help when you come here on Friday, and you’ll watch your tongue,” he continues. I blink in surprise. He really doesn’t take shit from anyone. “Now are you gonna speak like an adult, or do we need to end this conversation?”

  He pauses, listening. “Yes, sounds good. I was clear as hell when I’d have this work done for you, and it ain’t my fault your showman’s decided to take you touring early. Now I’ll see what I can do to accommodate you, but I want to be sure we’re clear that bullying my staff isn’t how we’ll handle things like this going forward.”

  He says a few more things, but I’m intent on sipping the coffee. It’s surprisingly good and takes away a little of my hunger. Maybe I’ve had too much coffee, though, because when he drops the receiver, I jump.

  “Now,” Levi says in a low, controlled voice. “I deal with you. Tanya.”

  I look up at him sheepishly. He’s standing against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest. “Three little rules,” he says, shaking his head. He lifts one tattooed, enormous hand, and crooks a finger at me. “C’mere.”

  “I think I’m okay, actually,” I stammer. “I haven’t eaten all day, and I’m starving. I was thinking maybe I’d go and take my lunch break—"

  “Come. Here.”

  So apparently I have no choice. I walk over to him so that we’re a few feet apart and stare at him. I screwed up with the rules, and I’m about to find out what that means in Levi’s shop.

  Chapter Four

  Levi

  I’m about to fuck up the rules of office etiquette so goddamned bad there will be no going back. But damn it, I mean what I say and every motherfucker who walks through the doors to this shop knows that. Even the damn customers.

  Apparently, it’s time Tanya learned that.

  And if I’m honest? I didn’t hire the girl for her secretarial skills.

  I was maybe hoping she’d fuck up and give me a reason to punish her.

  She stands in front of me now, a good head shorter than I am even with those death-defying fuck-me heels on. Her top’s tucked neatly into her skirt, and she stands erect, but there’s a smudge on her white top and a smear across the top of her nose. We’ll have a talk about appropriate office attire later. But first, we’ll talk about rules.

  “Three rules,” I say, fixing her with a stern glare. “No backtalk. Nothing stupid and dangerous. And you do not enter the shop. Did you break any of my rules?”

  She bites her lip and nods. “Well…yeah,” she says, looking away. I reach for her chin and bring her gaze to mine. Her lips part and her eyes are half lidded. She’s supposed to be chastened, but instead she looks like she’s ready for me to yank that skirt up and fuck her up against the desk.

  I need to touch her. It breaks every rule there is about office protocol and shit, but who am I kidding? I didn’t hire her because I’m a fucking professional.

  I want to touch her long, gorgeous, chestnut-colored hair. Instead of weaving my fingers through it and giving her the good, hard pull she needs, I tuck one stray lock behind her ear, barely touching her. We’re so close I can hear the steady tempo of her heartbeat. Her eyes widen when I tuck the hair, her lips parting. My dick tightens against my pants because I know exactly what needs to happen next.

  “You fucked up, Princess,” I whisper in her ear. “Turn around, and bend over that desk.”

  I expect a little tirade. Outrage. Huffing and puffing and indignation. But she closes her eyes briefly, as if to steel herself, and to my surprise, she doesn’t protest. When she opens her eyes they’re fixed on me and heated. She licks her lips.

  She wants this as much as I do.

  With torturously slow movements, she circles around and puts her back to me, then leans over so deliberately it’s slow motion, her belly hitting the desktop, fingers spread wide to hold herself in place. Her ass is on full display, voluptuous and full and in such fucking desperate need of a spanking.

  I lean over, letting my flank press up against her back. “Your daddy ever spank you, Tanya?”

  She shakes her head from side to side, her breath a husky whisper.

  I place my hand on her lower back. The guys won’t be long on break, and this needs to happen.

  “One thing you’ll learn, princess,” I say, resting my hand on the swell of her ass, which breaks every rule in the office handbook but I don’t give a shit, “is that this daddy won’t hesitate.”

  She releases a strangled cry, and I haven’t even spanked her yet. She’s wet for me. I can tell by the way she trembles and breathes heavily she’s turned on. If I lifted her skirt and pulled away that little strip of fabric over her pussy, she’d coat my hand with her arousal. Tanya likes being dominated.

  Fucking.

  Noted.

  Without another word, I raise my hand and slam it against the underside of her ass. She raises up on her toes and lets out a little yelp. Her knuckles whiten on the desk, but she stays there belly-down. Maybe she knows she can’t get away.

  Maybe she wants more.

  I lift my hand and slap my palm against her ass a second time, a third, and a fourth, each stinging swat landing in a different place. My palm tingles from where it connects with her ass, and my dick lengthens. “You stay the fuck out of that shop,” I growl, spanking her again, and again, “or the next time you do, I’ll bare your ass before I spank it.”

  And I fucking will. The thought of spanking her bare ass makes my dick painfully hard, but I’m not fucking around here. Yeah, I want to fuck the princess heiress, but I’m not screwing around when it come to safety.

  “You’ll watch your tone of voice,” I say with another sharp spank. “And stay the fuck out of that shop. It’s dangerous in there.” I spank her three more times in rapid succession. “And the truth is, I’ll fucking kill someone if they so much as look at you.” She whimpers. I can feel the heat on her ass straight through that little skirt of hers. She’s had enough for now.

  I mean every word I say but I think my point’s been made. I want to heave up this skirt and rake my hand up along her inner thighs, then finger her until she soars into her climax. I bet she’s damp with need and her skin feels like silk. I’d bet a goddamn mint she tastes sweet, too. I make it my aim to find out.

  But not now. Not yet.

  I right her skirt, and pull her to standing, then spin her around to look at me. Taking her by the chin, I bring her eyes to mine. “You hear me?”

  Her wide, bright eyes blink up at me. Then she lashes flutter again, as if waking from a trance. She swallows. “Did you just spank me?” she whispers.

  I huff out a laugh. “No, babe. I just gave you a motivational massage.” She blinks and stares, as if she doesn’t know what to do with herself. I hear the guys entering the shop behind me, tools being lifted and voices in the background. I gotta go.

  “You just spanked me,” she repeats. It’s like she’s still trying to process what just happened.

  I raise a brow to her. “Your point?”

  “You shouldn’t do that,” she whispers.

  I lean in and whisper in her ear. “You mean to tell me you didn’t like it?’

  She swallows. “No, Levi,” she whispers back, her fingers gently grasping my shoulder. “Problem is, I liked it way too fucking much.”

  Footsteps sound right outside the door and we pull away just in time, but I’m sure we look like teens caught making out in a school parking lot, because Spade freezes when he comes into the shop.

  “Boss, need some help with the finish,” he says. He pulls a cigar butt out of his mouth. Son of a bitch knows there’s no smoking in the shop. If this guy wasn’t so fucking good at what he did, I’d fire hi
s ass, but he does better detail work than anyone on the East Coast.

  “You smoking in the shop?” I ask him.

  “Nah,” he says. He gives Tanya a lewd grin. “Leftover butt from lunch. Was just chewing on it.”

  She wrinkles up her nose in disgust. I don’t like how he looked at her.

  “Show me what you need,” I say, pushing open the door to the shop.

  When the door shuts, he looks over his shoulder at me. “You banging the office help, boss?” he asks. “Getting a little protective there.”

  I could slug him. Hell, my hand tingles just thinking about it. Instead, I force myself to exhale slowly so I don’t snap. “Mind your own fucking business,” I tell him. Who the hell does he think he is? “Did you somehow forget that you’re working for me here?”

  He grins. “Nah, boss. Believe me,” he says, tapping his temple. “I remember everything.”

  Fucking certifiable. I ignore his idiotic rumblings and look at what he needs to show me. Nicked exterior. I finger the edge of the damage and give him my best advice. “Then finish it right to make sure it gleams. Get this done by five?”

  He nods, wipes his hand on a rag, and picks up a tool.

  “Sure thing.” He winks, the butt still dangling from his lips. “Gonna get her done by five?”

  Without thinking I grab him by the scruff of the neck and haul his ass up so we’re eyeball to eyeball. “Don’t care that you’re the best fucking detail man money can buy. You say one more word about Tanya and me, and your ass is on the street. Got it?” His eyes widen, then shutter. He holds his hands up in surrender.

  “Okay, okay,” he says, garnering the attention of several in the shop. “Just let me down!”

  I drop him back and he stumbles into the car, then turn to face whoever else is watching, but they all slink away to their respective jobs. I never lay a hand on my employees. Today, I did it twice.

  God, I need a drink.

  I throw myself into my work and try not to think about the way her ass felt beneath my hand. Her half-lidded eyes, and what she said before I returned to the shop.