T

EST

D

RIVE

…At the end of the aisle, three brand-new sports cars were parked

at a different angle, so they’d stand out to passersby. The cars had just
come in this afternoon. One red, one silver, one yellow, all
convertibles. The tops were up now—Dad always had us put the tops
up in the evening just in case it rained—but the cars were sexy as hell
anyway.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”
The general manager’s voice startled me, and I turned around,

pretending my heart hadn’t just jumped into my throat.

I wasn’t worried about him catching me slacking off and then

getting me fired. He and Dad both knew I worked my tail off in this
place. Everyone slacked a little at this time of night. There simply
wasn’t much to do except wait out the clock and get out of here.

No, the reason Jackson Shaw screwed up my blood pressure was

that I’d had a thing for him since long before I’d started working here.
Back before time had grayed the dark hair at his temples and added a
little salt to the rest of it. He’d been working for my dad since I was a
sophomore in high school, back when he was just a good-looking
salesman who didn’t know much about anything, but could sell
sunlight to vampires, as my mother had often said. Now he was the
general manager, and time had tempered his looks—and mellowed his
personality—to the point he was absolutely irresistible.

Now here he was, strolling between glittering cars with his jacket

unbuttoned and his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and there was
nowhere to run. No taking off under the guise of unfinished work or a
customer showing up. I was in his sights and he was coming right for
me…

A

LSO

B

Y

L.

A.

W

ITT

By A Thread

Changing Plans

Ex Equals

For The Living

Getting Off The Ground

Infinity Pools

The Mayfield Speakeasy

Nothing Of A Son

On The List

Static

Where Nerves End

TEST DRIVE

BY

L. A. WITT

A

MBER

Q

UILL

P

RESS

,

LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

T

EST

D

RIVE

A

N

A

MBER

Q

UILL

P

RESS

B

OOK

This book is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the

author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,

or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or

reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in

writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief

excerpts used for the purposes of review.

Copyright © 2013 by L. A. Witt

ISBN 978-1-61124-402-1

Cover Art © 2013 Trace Edward Zaber

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

TEST DRIVE

1

CHAPTER 1

Thanks to all the bright overhead lights, Dad’s dealership was

probably visible from space. It was quarter after ten at night, but
may as well have been daylight under the banners and flags that
fluttered in the late summer breeze. Meticulously detailed finishes
sparkled, and windshields and headlamps glittered alongside
polished chrome.

This time of night, especially in the middle of the week, I

wasn’t too worried about customers showing up. We were
technically closed at nine, but every once in a while, some
stragglers came strolling in right when the managers and I were
getting ready to leave. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any tonight.
The minute that clock hit ten thirty, I was out of here. There was a
cold beer and a TiVo full of mindless sitcoms waiting for me at my

TEST DRIVE

2

apartment. Every time a car went by on the four-lane highway in
front of the lot, I silently begged it not to slow down and make the
turn.

Please, please, don’t let me be here until midnight again.
And please, please, don’t let me still be here when I’m forty.
I wandered between the rows of new cars, depressing the hell

out of myself by looking at the prices in the windshields. Two
years ago, I wouldn’t have batted an eye at buying a twenty-
thousand dollar car. This year, I’d be lucky to make twenty
thousand dollars.

After three months, it was still weird to be working here. The

family had owned the place since before I was born, but I’d vowed
not to be the one to inherit it when Dad retired. I’d worked here off
and on as a teenager, even sold cars for a while after high school,
but no way in hell was I doing this in the long term.

So, I’d gone to college, gotten a degree, and gotten a job. My

student loans were paid off, and I’d been ten years into a promising
job at a solid corporation.

At least until the economy went tits up and I got laid off a year

ago. The job hunt hadn’t gone well. Even an MBA couldn’t get me
anywhere near a job in this town. After nine months, I gave up,
came crawling down to the dealership, and now here I was,
working for Mom and Dad to pay rent on my one-bedroom
apartment in its less than ideal part of town. And still single at
thirty-four, too. Definitely great for the ego.

Shaking my head, I kept walking. At the end of the aisle, three

brand-new sports cars were parked at a different angle, so they’d
stand out to passersby. The cars had just come in this afternoon.
One red, one silver, one yellow, all convertibles. The tops were up
now—Dad always had us put the tops up in the evening just in

TEST DRIVE

3

case it rained—but the cars were sexy as hell anyway.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”
The general manager’s voice startled me, and I turned around,

pretending my heart hadn’t just jumped into my throat.

I wasn’t worried about him catching me slacking off and then

getting me fired. He and Dad both knew I worked my tail off in
this place. Everyone slacked a little at this time of night. There
simply wasn’t much to do except wait out the clock and get out of
here.

No, the reason Jackson Shaw screwed up my blood pressure

was that I’d had a thing for him since long before I’d started
working here. Back before time had grayed the dark hair at his
temples and added a little salt to the rest of it. He’d been working
for my dad since I was a sophomore in high school, back when he
was just a good-looking salesman who didn’t know much about
anything, but could sell sunlight to vampires, as my mother had
often said. Now he was the general manager, and time had
tempered his looks—and mellowed his personality—to the point
he was absolutely irresistible.

Now here he was, strolling between glittering cars with his

jacket unbuttoned and his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and
there was nowhere to run. No taking off under the guise of
unfinished work or a customer showing up. I was in his sights and
he was coming right for me.

He freed one hand and gestured at the red sports car beside me.

“You ever driven something like this?”

I shook my head. “Always wanted to, but…”
“You should take it out for a spin,” he said.
I blinked. “But it’s only got a few miles on it.”
Jackson shrugged. “An extra ten won’t hurt the value. Besides,

TEST DRIVE

4

if you’re going to sell it, you ought to drive it.” The grin he flashed
me spun my head around. “Should I get the keys?”

“The…” I swallowed. “You’re serious.”
“Hell yeah. I don’t have anywhere to be for a while, and your

dad’s the one who told me we should drive what we’re selling. If
you’re game, I’ll go sign it out.”

“Uh, sure. Okay.”
He flashed me a grin that was nothing like the smiles he

displayed when customers were near. Then he headed for the
showroom, and I just stood there like a fool and watched him go.
That beer and TiVo full of sitcoms could wait.

Jackson returned a couple of minutes later. He tossed me the

keys and then went around to the passenger side of the gleaming
sports car.

I hesitated, less because I was taking out one of Dad’s high-end

cars and more because of who I was taking it out with, but finally
opened the door and got in.

The interior was top of the line. Buttery leather. Chrome edging

around the gauges. Seats you could sink into comfortably for
hundreds of miles on end.

“You planning to sit here and look at the dashboard all night?”

Jackson asked playfully. “Or see what she can do on the road?”

“Just…appreciating a well-made car.” I turned the key, and the

engine rumbled to life. Jackson and I looked at each other, both
grinning.

“Doesn’t she sound amazing?” he asked.
“She does.” I put it in gear, released the parking brake, and

eased the car into motion. The rumble became a low roar. God,
with that many horses under the hood, this thing was an erection
on wheels.

TEST DRIVE

5

“Why don’t you hang a right out of the parking lot?” he

suggested. “We’ll go up by Pine Boulevard. See how she handles
on some of the turns.”

“I like the sound of that.” I pulled out onto the highway and

headed toward Pine Boulevard. The dealership was near the edge
of town, and Pine took us out into the rural areas. Lots of hills and
turns. Perfect for putting a high performance vehicle through her
paces.

“Your dad ever let you drive the good ones when you were a

teenager?” Jackson asked.

I laughed. “Are you kidding? I’m lucky he lets me near them

now.”

“Really?”
I threw him a look. “Please. You know my dad.”
Nodding, Jackson chuckled. “Fair point, fair point.”
I eased the car around a hairpin at a few miles over the

suggested speed, and she held the road beautifully. As the road
evened out, I said, “You know I learned to drive in a trade-in?”

“Did you?”
I nodded. “Some guy was upgrading from this old piece of shit

Honda. Dad took the trade-in and brought it home for me.”

“He get you something better after that?” Jackson asked. “Once

you had experience?”

“Fuck, no. And let me tell you, high school’s a bitch anyway

without explaining why you’re driving a twelve-year-old beater
when your dad owns a dealership.” I chuckled. “First world
problems, am I right?”

“No kidding,” he said. “My first car? Chevy S10 that barely

ran. And I do mean it barely ran. I think I jumped it more times
than I actually started it.”

TEST DRIVE

6

“Ouch. How long did you drive that thing?”
“Only a few months. Some jackass ran into me and totaled the

thing, so I ended up upgrading to… Well, to what you were
driving. A piece of shit Honda. But at least it ran.”

“There is that.”
Neither of us spoke for a little while. I tried to focus as hard as

I could on the way the car handled, but that was easier said than
done with Jackson in the car.

Especially when he cleared his throat and not-so-casually

scratched the back of his neck. “So, I might not have been entirely
honest. About, um, why I suggested going for a drive.”

“Oh. Uh…” I gripped the wheel a little tighter and was thankful

he’d waited until a straightaway. I wasn’t so sure I could navigate
those curves right then. “Okay…”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said. “And I figured it

would be better to do it away from the dealership. Where no one
could eavesdrop.”

My heart stopped. Somehow, I managed to say, “Such as?”
“Well…” He was quiet for a moment. Then he took a breath.

“Listen, ever since you started working for your dad, you’ve
seemed a bit…nervous around me.” He looked right at me. “Do I
make you nervous, Sean?”

I swallowed. “A little bit. I guess.”
“Why?” he asked. “I’m not out to get you or anything.”
“No, no, it’s…it’s not that.”
“Then…?”
I stared out the windshield. My nerves weren’t job-related at

all. Sure, I was afraid of losing my paycheck, and Dad wouldn’t
hesitate to fire one of his own kids—my brother and sister could
both attest to that—but I worked damn hard and didn’t fuck up. No

TEST DRIVE

7

more than anyone else, anyway. And Jackson had never given me
any reason to believe he was out to get me. He wasn’t the type to
feel threatened because the boss’s kid might one day inherit his
job. Dad would have fired himself before he let Jackson go, and we
all knew that.

I cleared my throat. “I don’t even know, to be honest.” Ooh,

yes I did. I resisted the urge to make things worse by stealing a
glance at him. Blue eyes and five o’clock shadow, dark hair and
sharp lines. I had it all memorized anyway. No need to risk
wrecking my dad’s car in exchange for a quick look.

Jackson gestured up ahead. “Pull in there. On the right.”
“The park?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s a—” He hesitated. “It’s a good spot to, um, turn

around.”

“Okay.” Heart racing, I turned like he’d indicated. The park’s

entrance was fairly narrow, with no room for even the most agile
sports car to turn around without running the risk of a scratch or
dent, so I continued until we were in the small, deserted parking
lot.

“Pull into a spot.” It wasn’t a suggestion. More like a

command.

I pulled into a spot. The engine idled, adding a low rumble to

the background but not filling the silence between us. I nervously
cleared my throat. “You want to drive back?”

“Not yet.”
I glanced at him. The only light was the reflection of the

headlamps from the bushes in front of us, and that faint glow just
barely illuminated one side of his face.

I quickly shifted my attention to the gauges, all of which were

at rest except the tachometer. The needle hovered, wobbling a little

TEST DRIVE

8

as the engine idled.

That is, until Jackson reached over and turned the key. The car

shuddered before falling silent.

“Look at me, Sean.”
I took a deep breath, and then turned toward him.
“If it’s any consolation,” he said, barely whispering, “I get

nervous around you, too.”

“You…you do?”
Jackson nodded slowly.
I couldn’t breathe. “Why?”
He held my gaze for a long moment. A long, unnerving

moment.

“I think,” he whispered, “we make each other nervous for the

same reason.”

“And what reason is that?”
Jackson didn’t answer. He unbuckled his seat belt, and I

thought my heart was going to explode as he reached across the
console.

“What are…” I swallowed hard as he pressed the button on my

own seat belt, and the shoulder strap snapped back against my arm.
Never taking my eyes off him, I shrugged the strap off me. “What
are we doing?”

Jackson leaned closer, sliding his hand around the side of my

neck. “Just something I’ve wanted to do for a long, long time.”
And then he pressed his lips to mine.

I froze for a moment, paralyzed by utter shock and disbelief.

Was this really happening?

His thumb ran along the edge of my jaw, and his lips nudged

mine apart, and yes, this was really happening, and I wrapped my
arms around him and let it happen.

TEST DRIVE

9

His faint cologne—or maybe aftershave?—made me dizzy. His

five o’clock shadow grazed mine, adding a soft hiss-hiss to the
faint squeak of leather yielding to shifting weight as we leaned into
each other.

My heart went wild. A first kiss was always exciting and hot,

especially when it was unexpected, but this went beyond the new
and novel experience of kissing someone for the first time because
this was Jackson.

He broke the kiss and pulled back a little. “I can’t even tell you

how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

“I hope you’re not planning on waiting to do it again.”
“Absolutely not.”

TEST DRIVE

10

CHAPTER 2

I’d been fantasizing about this kiss for years. Almost as long as

I’d known Jackson, which was almost as long as I’d known I was
gay.

And this? The reality? The flesh and blood manifestation of

countless fantasies?

So far beyond what I’d imagined. So much better. Oh my God.

He was very much in control of everything, deciding how deep we
kissed and how long it went on, but didn’t neglect my need to
breathe. His fingers were firm on the back of my neck, but still
gentle enough to let me tilt my head when his lips and tongue
encouraged my mouth open.

His other hand slid over the top of my thigh, my only warning

before it moved up and cupped my erection through my pants. I

TEST DRIVE

11

gripped his shoulder tighter, wondering when I’d put my hand on it
in the first place, and pressed against his palm.

A gasp—whose, I couldn’t say—separated us. Breathing hard

in the stillness, we looked at each other, the reflection from the
headlamps gleaming in his eyes.

I swept my tongue across my lips. “This wasn’t what I was

expecting.”

Jackson shook his head. “I wasn’t expecting it either, but…”

He shrugged and leaned in, but I tensed, causing him to hesitate.
“What’s wrong?”

I struggled to find my breath. “We can’t…we work together.”
“I know.” He dipped his head, and I shivered as his lips skated

along the side of my neck. Again when he added, “But I want you
so bad, Sean.”

Screwing my eyes shut, I whimpered and gripped his shirt

tighter. Not to push him away, but to pull him closer. Keep him
against me.

Panting, he broke away. “Except we shouldn’t…” He kissed

me again, briefly this time. “We shouldn’t… in the car.”

“No, probably not.” Disappointment tugged at my gut.
“Maybe we should go someplace else.” Jackson drew back and

grinned. “I don’t live far from the dealership.”

I blinked.
“Come back to my place. Well, after we take the car back.” He

returned to his side of the car, brushing some phantom dust off the
console before he straightened his shirt and tie. “We should get
back. So we can…”

Our eyes met.
I started the engine. We both put on our seat belts, and I got us

the hell out of that parking lot.

TEST DRIVE

12

The drive back to the dealership took forever. I was going well

above the speed limit, slowing down only for the most difficult
turns, and once I was on a straightaway, I really put it to the floor,
but it still seemed like an eon or two before I finally made the turn
into the familiar brightly lit lot.

I parked the car in front of the detailer’s booth. They’d have it

back on the lot and shining in all its glory before the dealership
opened in the morning, so I wasn’t worried.

As we walked back toward the showroom so Jackson could

turn in the plates and keys, a couple of the other sales guys were
heading out to their cars.

“Hey, Jackson,” Greg called out. “We’re clocking out and

heading home.”

Jackson waved. “See you guys tomorrow.”
They continued out into the parking lot, and we walked through

the deserted showroom. Everyone was gone for the evening. The
place was eerily quiet, as it often was when there was no one left
but me and Dad or Jackson, but my pounding heart added an odd
backbeat to the otherwise silent atmosphere. As if the emptiness
itself was both tempting and taunting me. You can’t do a thing
here, but if you did, there’s no one around to catch you.

And just my luck, that would be the day someone forgot his

wallet or Dad couldn’t sleep and came in to do some paperwork.

While Jackson signed the car back in and put the key and

license plates back where they belonged, I went down the hall to
clock out. We weren’t paid hourly, but Dad insisted on a time
clock just so he could keep track of who was here when. There was
a reason most of the guys joked he was the king of
micromanaging. I was surprised he didn’t require us to wear
uniforms and submit to military-style inspections before our shifts.

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13

I punched my time card, slipped it back into its slot on the wall

beside the clock, and went to Jackson’s office. He was behind his
desk, one hand next to the keyboard and the other on the mouse,
brow furrowed as he looked at something on the screen.

I smirked. “You’re not planning on putting in any overtime, are

you?”

His eyes flicked up, and he laughed. “Hell, no.” With a wink,

he added, “Not tonight, I’m not.”

I shivered.
Jackson clicked something, then turned off his monitor and

picked up his keys off the desk.

“Ready?” I asked as he came around the desk.
Jackson grinned. “Almost.”
Before I could ask what that meant, his hand snaked around my

waist and reeled me into a kiss. One of those kisses that quickly
went from light and playful to something far more breathless.

Jackson’s keys landed on the floor. I stumbled back a step. He

followed.

“Forget going back to my place,” he murmured. “Not

until…after…” He kissed me again. I wrapped my arms around
him. I wasn’t off guard or taken aback this time, and I didn’t
surrender. I gave as good as I got, pulling him against me and
kissing him hard.

With a low growl, Jackson backed me up against the door. He

broke the kiss and descended on my neck, and I released a soft “oh
God…” as his stubbled chin scraped against my throat.

“I don’t do this,” he breathed. “I never…always in control, but

you…”

“Fuck control,” I whispered, the words startling both of us. I

didn’t usually do this either. Not even close. But as long as

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14

Jackson’s body was against mine and his lips were on my skin, I
didn’t care. This wasn’t a normal evening, so to hell with it.

“I love the way you think,” he said.
A witty response reached the tip of my tongue, but disappeared

as Jackson tugged at the zipper on my slacks. Before I could make
sense of that, his hand was around my cock, and I leaned heavily
against the door just to keep from sinking to my knees.

Uncertainty surfaced in the back of my mind, and I grabbed his

wrist. “Should we do this here?”

“Absolutely not.” Jackson kissed me lightly. “But there’s no

one else here.”

“No, there isn’t.” I licked my lips and let him gently pry my

fingers off his arm. “Fuck…”

“Oh, we’ll do that,” he said with a grin. “But first…” He went

to his knees, and I sucked in a breath as his lips closed around my
cock. Holy hell. If I thought he knew how to kiss, I wasn’t even a
little bit prepared for the way he sucked cock. He used his lips, his
tongue, his hand. The man didn’t hold anything back. This wasn’t
a tease. It was a one-way ticket to a fast, intense orgasm, and I had
no choice but to hang on for the ride.

I gripped the doorknob in one hand, braced against the frame

with the other. I thrust against him, fucking his fist and his face,
and he groaned, so I did it harder. In turn, Jackson stroked me
faster, and his mouth was more than I could handle, and a shudder
pushed me off the door, nearly toppling me to the floor in front of
him, and I didn’t even know whose moans were whose as I came
in his mouth.

As the last shudders rippled through me, I closed my eyes and

leaned hard against the door, panting and just trying to
comprehend that, yes, this had actually happened.

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15

“Fuck, that was hot,” Jackson said. I opened my eyes as he

stood, and then he pinned me against the door by my wrists and
kissed me hard, making sure I tasted myself on him. I was shaking
badly, out of breath and dizzy as hell, and still couldn’t believe I
was kissing Jackson Shaw with the salt of my own semen on his
tongue.

And I definitely couldn’t believe it when he broke the kiss,

touched my face with a trembling hand, and whispered, “We really
need to get back to my place.”

I didn’t argue.

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16

CHAPTER 3

I followed Jackson to his house.
I was on edge. Nervous. Even the radio grated on my nerves, so

I turned it off and drove in silence behind his car.

This was a bad idea. A hot fantasy come to life in sweaty,

hungry fashion, but a bad idea nonetheless. We worked together.
Technically I worked for him. He was my supervisor, after all.
Even if my dad wasn’t our boss, we could still get fired for this.
Me faster than Jackson, but both of our jobs would definitely be on
the line. And even if we kept it on the down low, who was to say
things wouldn’t get awkward—conspicuously awkward—at work?

This was not a good idea.
Which did absolutely nothing to stop me from pulling into

Jackson’s driveway and parking beside his car. Or following him

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17

up the walk to his front door. Or kissing the side of his neck while
he tried to unlock the deadbolt.

He shivered, tilting his head to expose more of his neck. “Keep

that up, we’ll end up fucking out here on the porch.”

My turn to shiver. Jesus, but he was direct. “Maybe I should

keep doing it, then.”

Jackson laughed. “Maybe you should.”
Right then, the deadbolt clicked, and Jackson pushed open the

door. Pulse pounding, I followed him inside.

He tossed his keys on the table beside the door, and grabbed

the front of my shirt. He pulled me into another deep kiss, which
did nothing to help me regain my balance, and I stumbled back
into the door.

“Holy fuck, I’ve been dying for this,” he whispered, leaning

down to kiss my neck.

“Me, too.” I pulled his hips against mine. “You always…

always this aggressive?”

“When I see something I want, you’d better believe it.”
Oh, Jesus…
“I’ve been wanting you since you came back from college,”

Jackson said, almost moaning as he ground against me. “First time
you came by the dealership after graduation? Fuck…”

“I’ve been wanting you longer than that,” I whispered.
“Have you, now?”
“I have.” I swallowed hard and gently pushed him back. “So

maybe we should take this into another room?”

Christ. That devilish gleam in his eyes. If he’d been touching

my cock just then, I would have come again, and I never came
quickly the second time.

He took me by the hand and led me down the hall. As soon as

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18

we were in his bedroom, I pushed him down onto his bed, and he
dragged me down with him. Twenty years of combined longing
didn’t leave much room for caring about things like seams and
buttons, and as clothes came off and came apart, we were both
reduced to shaking, panting desperation.

“Fuck me,” he whispered. “Please, fuck me, Sean.”
“I thought you’d be a top.”
Jackson grinned into my kiss. “I can be. But I want”—he

kissed me again—“I want you on top.”

I didn’t argue. He found a condom and some lube, and once

those were on, he got on his hands and knees. I knelt behind him.

As I put some lube on him, he shivered, his head falling

forward as he whispered something like “oh God, fuck…”

It wasn’t like I hadn’t been laid in recent memory, but it had

been a long, long time since I’d wanted someone this bad. A
fantasy come to life, and that fantasy was happening right now,
right in front of me, as the head of my cock slid into Jackson’s
tight ass.

I started to withdraw, but Jackson leaned back, so I pushed in

deeper, and he shivered.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “Oh my God, that’s perfect.”
I thrust as hard as I could, and he complemented me, slamming

back against me every time I buried myself to the hilt inside him.
The view…the view was amazing. Jackson’s naked body, my cock
sliding in and out of him, his fingers clawing at the sheets as he
swore and gasped and gave as good as he got. When I ran my
hands up and down his back, he arched against my touch, moaning
softly as goose bumps rose alongside his spine.

Being inside him wasn’t enough. I needed to touch him as

much as possible, press as much of my skin to his as I could. I

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19

leaned over him and wrapped my arm around him. With the other
hand, I gripped his hip, and I buried my face against his neck as I
fucked him. I had very little range of motion like this, withdrawing
only an inch or so before thrusting in again, but it was hot as hell.

Jackson put his hand over my arm. His fingers dug into my

forearm, and I didn’t know if he needed something to hold on to, if
he just wanted to touch me, or if he didn’t want me to let go of him
like this, but all three worked just fine for me. I turned my forearm
enough to grab onto his, and we were locked together, gripping
each other tight as I fucked him.

I nipped the back of his neck, and he groaned. “Like that?”
Another groan, so I did it again, and Jackson’s entire body

shuddered beneath mine. The salt of his skin and the light scent of
his cologne made me dizzy. Made this real. I wasn’t dreaming. I
was fucking Jackson Shaw, deep and hard and in his bed, and he
was as caught up in this as I was, moaning and trembling as we
moved together.

“I’m gonna come,” he breathed, quivering beneath me. “Fuck,

Sean, that’s perfect. That’s…fuck…” He whimpered softly and
forced himself back against me as much as this position allowed.
He tightened around my cock and gripped my arm tighter, and my
own vision went white as I tried to get deeper, just a little deeper.
When semen hit my arm, I was gone. I buried my face against his
neck. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything
except let my orgasm rush over and through me as I came inside
him.

Like a single body, we collapsed together. I pulled out, but

stayed over him, panting against the back of his neck.

I kissed the back of his shoulder. As I pushed myself up, I said,

“Hope you still have some left tonight.”

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“Likewise.” He turned onto his side. “You should be careful

what you wish for, though.”

“Back at you.” I stood, but my legs wobbled, so I put a hand on

the bed to steady myself.

Jackson chuckled. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “Just a little unsteady.”
He flashed me a deliciously filthy grin. “You’re welcome.”
I laughed. “I’ll be right back.”
I went into the bathroom and got rid of the condom. Then I

washed my hands, dried them, and returned to Jackson’s bed.

He was on his back now, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

For a while, we didn’t say anything or do anything. We just let the
dust settle while we lay together.

Of course, as the dust settled and the hunger cooled for the

moment, the nerves set in. We worked together. He was my
supervisor. We worked for my dad. Shit.

I blew out a breath. “You think this is going to make things

awkward at work?”

Jackson absently stroked my hair. “Doesn’t have to.”
“Doesn’t necessarily mean it won’t.”
“True.”
I pushed myself up so we could see each other. “So what do we

do?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought very far beyond this, to be

honest with you.” He laughed softly and touched my face. “This is
all I’ve been thinking about since you started working there.”

I held his gaze. While I knew damn well there were reasons we

couldn’t do this, and we both knew it could make things awkward,
it was impossible to tell myself, when I was looking at him like
this, that this was wrong. It just felt too right.

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So I pulled him to me and kissed him, and he didn’t resist.
Tonight, I’d live out my fantasy.
We’d deal with the consequences tomorrow.

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CHAPTER 4

I could barely move on my way into work the next morning. It

wasn’t easy, putting last night out of my mind when I couldn’t
even pour a cup of desperately needed coffee without feeling some
twinges in my exhausted muscles. After any other night, I’d have
been basking in that achy afterglow, letting even the slightest
discomfort take me back. Today? Not so much.

And as soon as I made eye contact with Jackson over the top of

my coffee cup, I knew last night was a huge mistake. Of course I’d
known that already. I’d known it in the heat of the moment. But
that reality was unavoidable now, under the cold fluorescent lights
and surrounded by our coworkers, and now I couldn’t listen to an
erection and pretend that fucking Jackson just a little harder would
negate the fact that fucking him in the first place was a bad idea.

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All of which was even more difficult to deal with as he made

his way across the mostly empty break room and came right
toward me.

“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
“Um, we should talk.” Jackson ran a hand through his hair and

blew out a breath. “Your dad will hit the roof if he finds out.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “So what do we do?”
He avoided my eyes. “I’m not sure there’s much we can do.

Not as long as we’re on the dealership’s payroll.”

“We probably shouldn’t…” I glanced around, just in case

anyone was listening in. “Shouldn’t continue. What we were
doing.”

“Probably not, no.” He sighed. “I’m so sorry. When I suggested

taking a ride last night, I just, I wanted to clear the air between us,
and I didn’t realize you felt the same way, and…” Shaking his
head, he waved a hand. “Shit, I don’t know. I just didn’t think
we’d end up in this situation.”

“Neither did I,” I said. “Look, maybe we should talk after

work. When we can be a little more…” I glanced around again.
“Candid.”

Jackson nodded. “I’m thinking we shouldn’t continue, though.”
My heart sank, even though I knew he was right.
He went on. “We can talk, but…”
“Or not,” I said. “We both know we can’t do this, and I suspect

if we’re alone together outside of work…”

Jackson grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t think we’d be doing much

talking.”

“Which would just make things more complicated.”
“Way more complicated.”

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“So we should probably just agree to walk away, then,” I said.

“It was fun, but…”

He nodded again. “It was. And we should.”
There wasn’t much to say beyond that.
So we walked away.
And somehow, we were supposed to work. In the same

building, or at least on the same lot. Surprise, surprise,
concentrating on my work proved to be a challenge and a half.
Somehow I was supposed to explain all the features of every
vehicle, all the details I’d long since memorized, and persuade
buyers to part with thousands and thousands of dollars, when all I
wanted to do was drag the general manager into a supply closet for
a few minutes.

I’d had a crush on Jackson forever, but he’d never made me

trip over my own feet quite like this. Of course he hadn’t. Before
last night, I didn’t know what it was like to be with him outside of
the way I’d imagined him in countless fantasies.

I forced myself to concentrate on my job. The day was slow—

middle of the day in the middle of the week, plus the economy had
taken a bite out of sales recently anyway—but there was a steady
trickle of potential buyers. I showed cars. Took a few people out
on test drives. Nearly sold a mid-size sedan to a gentleman before
he was turned down for every loan the finance department tried to
secure.

Late in the afternoon, a woman came in who seemed to be a

tire kicker. She looked, but wasn’t terribly interested in anything.
After some gentle prodding, she finally agreed to test drive a car.

Halfway back to the lot, she grinned. “I think I’m going to have

to take it.”

I chuckled and told her we’d talk numbers and loans when we

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got back to the dealership, but she just had to see how it handled
on one of the curvier roads. By the time she’d gone down that
road, there was no “I think” about it, and by six thirty, she was
heading out in her brand new compact.

Laughing to myself, I watched her go. Amazing how much a

simple test drive could persuade someone to buy instead of just
browsing. That was one of the things Dad hammered into all of us.
Get the customer behind the wheel, and he’ll have a harder time
walking away. Test driving a car changed the rules. It changed the
game. It made the car feel like less of a product on a store shelf or
a billboard. Changed a buyer to a driver, and a driver was more
likely to sign on the dotted line.

As I turned away from the window to go finish up some

paperwork, I caught a glimpse of Jackson talking to one of the
other salesmen. He glanced at me, and for a split second, our eyes
met.

And something tightened beneath my ribcage.
I looked out at the lot where my buyer and her car were no

longer in sight. I looked at Jackson again.

Yeah. Amazing what a test drive could do. No wonder I’d had

such a hard time convincing myself to stay away from him.
Walking away from Jackson would have been a hell of a lot easier
if I didn’t know how it felt to be with him.

But I did. I knew what his kiss tasted like. I knew how hot his

skin got when he was naked and out of breath. I knew exactly what
he felt like when he was shaking with the aftershocks of a powerful
orgasm.

Fuck. This wasn’t going to get any easier, was it?
Around eleven the next morning, I gave in and went looking

for Jackson. I found him in the showroom, and waited until he’d

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seen a couple of buyers off. Once he was alone, I approached.

“Hey.” I tried not to look or sound like an idiot school kid, but

realized a second too late I’d just slid my hands into my pockets
and completely fit that description. My cheeks heated up as I said,
“We really should talk.”

He glanced across the showroom, toward where my dad stood

with one of the other salesmen. Then, Jackson looked back at me.
“Yeah. We should.” He nodded past me. “My office?”

“Sure. Yeah.”
We walked in silence down the hall to Jackson’s office. Neither

of us said a word or even looked at each other as he closed the
door behind us, and once we were sealed inside that small room,
the awkwardness set in. There were things to say, and this was the
time and place to say them, but getting those words out was easier
said than done.

Especially when I finally made myself look at him.
And he looked right back at me.
Just like we’d looked at each other the other night.
He swallowed. “You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah. I…” Can’t breathe. “Look, I know there’s no way we

can—” I met his eyes. “I know we can’t…” Fuck, I couldn’t even
remember how to speak. “There’s…” Or what I wanted to say.
“Jackson, this is…”

He swept his tongue across his lips. “We can’t do it.”
“No, we can’t.” But I stepped closer to him. “Only problem is,

I don’t think—”

Jackson grabbed my lapels and kissed me. I didn’t even

hesitate. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him back.
Fuck it. I couldn’t think when I tried to talk to him, and I couldn’t
think when I tried not to want him, so…yeah. Fuck it. His kiss was

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pure temptation, and the longer I tasted that temptation, the less I
could convince myself we shouldn’t do this.

And his body wasn’t any better, pressed up against me like this

and reminding me of all the ways we’d touched and ground and
moved together the other night. I wanted him bad. I didn’t care
why we shouldn’t do this, and the longer he held me to him and
kissed me that way, the less I could convince myself there was any
reason I shouldn’t hang on. Or drop to my knees. Or drag him
down to the floor with me.

Abruptly, he broke away. “Fuck…”
“We’re… not doing such a great job of not doing this,” I said.
“I know.” He licked his lips. “We shouldn’t even be in here.”

Releasing his breath, he loosened his grasp on my jacket, but
didn’t back off. “We have to get back to work. Tonight, we’ll
talk.”

“I thought…I thought we weren’t going to talk. We’ll just—” I

looked down at our bodies pressed close together, hands on each
other’s clothes.

“There’s obviously something going on here, Sean,” he said.

“Between us, I mean. There’s no point in ignoring it.”

“Good point.”
“Come by my place and we’ll…” He smoothed the front of my

jacket and straightened the lapels he’d grabbed a moment ago.
“Obviously not talking about this isn’t working, and the only way
we’re going to talk is if we get this out of our system first.”

I shivered. Oh God. “So you want to fuck, and then talk about

why we shouldn’t fuck?”

Jackson swallowed. “I said we’ll talk. If I knew what

conclusion we’d come to, we wouldn’t have to put it off until
tonight.”

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That wasn’t promising.
He kissed me again, lightly this time. “Meet me there tonight.

We’ll figure something out.”

* * *

As I continued my work, I couldn’t relax. Guilt was starting to

get to me. Dad was a micromanager. He said he ran a tight ship.
Most of his employees agreed he was a slave driver who would
just as soon not let any of us go home at night and have things like
families and social lives. I vaguely remembered him hitting the
roof a few years ago when one of the salesmen started banging one
of the women in finance. Neither of those employees were here
anymore.

Jackson had devoted a lot of years to this job, and worked his

way up to general manager. I hadn’t been here long, but
desperately needed a paycheck. Neither of us was in a position to
take our employment situations lightly.

Taking a deep breath, I started up the stairs to the executive

offices. On the way down the hall, my skin crawled. Ever since I
was a kid, the sight of my dad’s office door had unnerved me, and
it still had the effect now. Even if I was just walking in to see what
time Mom wanted me over for dinner on Sunday. The Pavlovian
response was deep-seated and not going away any time soon.

But so was the knowledge that Dad was not a reasonable man

when he was angry. If anything upset the carefully arranged pieces
of the chessboard of his business, he would just as soon send the
entire board and its pieces flying than listen to reason. Eventually
he’d calm down—his business would have collapsed long ago if
his temper led him to actually make impulsive decisions out of

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anger—and address things, but woe be unto the one who pissed
him off. If I wanted to even think about dating Jackson and still
stay on Dad’s payroll, it was better to be open and honest with him
than have him find out after the fact. Whoever coined the phrase
“It’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission” had never met
my dad.

Step one? Test the water and see if he’d even consider not

losing his shit over the prospect of two employees dating.

I knocked on my dad’s door.
“It’s open,” came the muttered response.
I almost pushed the door open and peeked around it like the

timid kid who’d come by to ask for some gas money or permission
to attend something, but for God’s sake, I was an adult. Squaring
my shoulders, I took a breath, and then opened the door and strode
into his office.

“Oh, hello, Sean.” He sat behind his massive desk and folded

his hands on top of his knee. “What’s up?”

“Uh, well, I wanted to ask about something.” I shifted, leaning

over my elbow on the armrest. “I don’t want to step on any toes
while I’m working here. Being the boss’s son and all that.”

“I see.”
I took a breath. “Listen, the, um, employee handbook doesn’t

mention anything about…fraternizing.”

Dad’s eyebrows jumped. “Fraternizing?”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “You know, employees hanging

out. Outside of work.”

He shrugged. “I don’t really care what my employees do after

hours.” He laughed, sharply. “As long as they’re not dating,
anyhow.”

“And…if they are?”

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His humor vanished. He eyed me. Then he leaned forward,

putting his elbows on either side of his keyboard and steepling his
fingers. “You interested in someone on the payroll?”

I gulped. That was a tone I knew all too well, one that I’d

learned at a very young age meant “you’re this close to being in
deep shit, so tread carefully.” Even at thirty-four, that voice could
still make my heart stop. No, I couldn’t be disciplined like I’d been
as a child, but Dad had the power to yank this job out from under
me.

I put up my hands. “Just figuring out where the lines are, that’s

all.”

“Mm-hmm.” He raised an eyebrow. Then lowered both of

them. “Sean, you’re here to sell cars, and if you want to keep
selling cars here, I would suggest you focus on the job, not my
other employees. Am I clear?”

“Okay. Okay. I…” I stood. “Just wanted to check.”
“There someone you have your eye on?” he asked.
“At the moment, no.”
He glared at me, skepticism etched all over his face. Then he

shifted his gaze back to the paperwork in front of him and growled,
“I suggest you keep it that way, son.”

“Duly noted.”
I walked out of Dad’s office, and as soon as the door shut

behind me, I let out a breath.

More and more, I resented still being under his thumb. Dad had

always been the domineering kind, which was one of the reasons
I’d sworn I’d never work for him. But desperate times had led to
desperate measures, and I hated the fact that his reach now
extended beyond just controlling whether or not I had a paycheck.

I was fortunate he wasn’t homophobic. He’d accepted the fact

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that I was gay, and though he’d never been particularly thrilled
about it, he’d never turned me away or been unkind to any of my
boyfriends. But none of those boyfriends had ever worked for him,
and I’d never been as intrigued by and attracted to a man as I was
Jackson. And Dad’s insistence on ruling with an iron fist meant I
had to keep my distance from Jackson or get on the ball and find
another place to work.

During my afternoon break, I checked on the job websites I’d

been haunting for several months. There were some new listings,
but nothing terribly promising. Several were jobs I’d applied and
interviewed for before, but the listings had been renewed. Maybe
they were getting desperate?

Most of the other listings were just beyond my level of

qualification. Where I had three years’ experience, they wanted
five. Where I had five, they wanted seven. I was perfectly qualified
for one position except for that minor detail about applicants being
fluent in Spanish. All those German classes I took in college were
sure paying off.

I set my phone on the table and rubbed my forehead. The

market was abysmal. Worse, most of my former coworkers who’d
found jobs ended up being laid off again anyway. For the time
being, working for Dad was my most secure prospect.

Which meant I couldn’t jeopardize it.

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CHAPTER 5

I went home to get a shower before I headed over to Jackson’s.

I told myself it was just to clear my head and give myself a chance
to think, but there wasn’t much point. The only thing I thought
about in the shower, or while I dressed, or while I was driving
from my place to his, was how many ways I wanted to have
Jackson before the evening was over.

The minute he opened the door, I knew he was on the same

page. The look in his eyes, that was unmistakable, and as soon as
the door was closed, I wasn’t at all surprised when he damn near
tackled me for a deep, demanding kiss.

His hair was damp, his jaw smooth, and the vaguely minty

scent of his aftershave made my head spin.

“What are we doing out here?” I asked. “Your bedroom is—”

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“Point taken.” He grabbed my arm and led me, laughing, down

the hall.

As soon as we were in his bedroom, we didn’t waste any time.

We stripped out of our clothes, and the last article had barely hit
the floor before he took me by the hands and pulled me down into
his bed with him. We made out like teenagers, kissing until we
absolutely had to breathe, and even then only breaking away for a
few gulps of air before falling into each other again.

I pushed him onto his back. When I lifted myself up, he tried to

follow, but with a hand on his chest, I kept him where I wanted
him.

He stared up at me and licked his lips. “Sean, please…”
“Stay there.” I leaned down and kissed him lightly, then started

working my way down his neck. As I trailed kisses across his
collarbone, he stopped trying to get up. His fingers ran through my
hair, and his chest rose with rapid breaths as I continued
downward. Beneath my lips, his stomach muscles contracted, and
the fingers in my hair kneaded more earnestly, almost pushing my
head downward.

I closed my lips around the head of his cock. He arched his

back, and even I couldn’t help shivering. The taste of his skin, and
just the sheer anticipation, not to mention his responses—catching
his breath, trembling, writhing on the bed—drove me fucking
insane.

“Oh, fuck…” He kept an unsteady hand in my hair, and his

hips lifted a little as if to push his cock deeper into my mouth.

I put an arm across his hips to keep him steady. That didn’t

help much. Jackson was strong, and he was turned on, and with the
way his hips fought my arm, I couldn’t help thinking about how
he’d pushed back against me while I’d fucked him, trying to drive

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me deeper inside him, and how much I desperately wanted us to do
that again. Even more turned on now, I gave him everything I had,
stroking him and teasing him with my mouth as my own
anticipation drove me wild.

“Oh, shit.” His whole body tensed, and then he came, hot

semen spurting across my tongue.

I’d barely pushed myself up before he grabbed the back of my

neck and kissed me.

“God, you’re amazing,” he said, panting.
“Can I just say,” I murmured between kisses, “that I love how

fucking demanding you are.”

“Good,” Jackson said, digging his fingers into the back of my

neck. “Now fuck me. I want…I want you to—”

I kissed him, and he immediately returned it with breathless

fervor.

“Please, Sean,” he murmured.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “You just came, I don’t—”
“Fuck me.”
Didn’t have to twist my arm. As I put on the condom and lube,

though, I was a little worried. I didn’t want to overdo it and hurt
him. He’d be sensitive as hell now, in the wake of his orgasm, and
a badly judged thrust could turn this into something most
unpleasant for him. Better to leave him in control.

I lay back on the pillows. “Get on top.”
He did, straddling me. I held my cock by the base, and guided

him down onto me. As he lowered himself, taking me a little at a
time, he furrowed his brow and closed his eyes. “Holy fuck…”

“My sentiments exactly.” I lifted my hips as he came down,

and we both groaned softly as my cock slid deeper inside him.
Every time he came down, he took more, until he finally had every

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inch.

“Jesus,” he breathed. “Holy fuck, you feel amazing.”
I just moaned, because words were completely lost on me.

Even more so as he picked up speed, settling into the most
incredible rhythm—not slow by any means, but not so fast that this
was over too quickly. He pinned my arms beside my head. Kissed
me. Rode me. I was completely at his mercy, unable to do anything
except return his kiss and simply be pinned, be kissed, be ridden.
His body was amazing, a perfect fit for mine both inside and out.
No awkwardness, no clumsiness. We fucked like we were made
for this.

He raised himself up and rode me hard. Jesus, just watching

him, feeling him, being inside him like this, was more than I could
take, and I thrust upward, and in seconds, lost it, shuddering
beneath him as I came.

Jackson rose up enough to let me withdraw, and then rested on

top of me again.

Slowly, the dust settled, and as it did, reality crept in.
“You okay?” Jackson asked, lifting his head. “You tensed up.”
“Just thinking.” I smoothed his disheveled hair.
He kissed me lightly. “Pretty sure I know what it’s about.”
“Probably,” I said. “If Dad catches wind that you and I are

sleeping together, I’ll lose my job.”

He nodded, sighing. “I know.”
“I’m sorry, Jackson,” I whispered. “If there was any other

way…”

He avoided my eyes. “I know. You need the job. So do I.”
“True.”
“Much as it sucks,” he said, running his fingers through my

hair. “We can’t. No point in fighting it, or we’ll just drive each

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other crazy.”

More than we already are? I sighed. “Yeah. We will.”
Then he grinned. “But we’re here tonight. And no one has to

know.”

I smiled and pulled him closer. “Then we should take

advantage of the rest of the night, shouldn’t we?”

“I so love the way you think.”

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CHAPTER 6

Staying away from each other would have been easier if we’d

been anything other than a salesman and general manager. If I’d
been a detailer, or he’d been one of the finance guys, or I worked
in the repair shop, or he was in marketing, we’d cross paths only as
much as our coffee break habits coincided. And maybe work
together briefly from time to time when there was an issue with a
car, or a buyer’s credit, or something like that.

But as general manager, he worked closely with the salesmen.

He was the smoothest salesman within a fifty-mile radius, and if
one of us couldn’t close a deal, Jackson usually could. From a
salesman’s perspective, he was the best ally any of us could ask
for. He never elbowed his way in, never belittled us or assumed we
couldn’t handle deals on our own. He just had a sixth sense for

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when a potential buyer needed a little extra push, and he gave that
push with such finesse. All of that was a godsend for someone in
my position.

Except for that minor detail where it meant we worked together

a lot. Occasionally, for a few hours at a time, when it was one of
those lengthy deals with a buyer who haggled every single detail.
We couldn’t avoid each other.

A potential buyer pulled in one afternoon about two weeks

after Jackson and I had called it quits. I quickly sized up the car
he’d parked in front of the showroom. Fairly recent sports car, one
from three years ago if I was correct. Bright red, too. Either he was
here to replace a midlife crisis with something more practical, or
here to upgrade.

“Good afternoon,” I said, and when he turned around, I

extended my hand. “Sean Waters. Is there something I can help
you with today?”

“Afternoon, Sean.” He shook my hand. “Mr. Bates.”
Ah, one of those. Called me by my first name, expected me to

address him by his last. A subtle way of putting me in my place.
Buyers like that made me crazy, but they also tended to have
expensive taste and the money to back it up, so I could grin and
bear it.

“Is there a particular car you’re interested in?” I nodded toward

the car he’d driven onto the lot. “Something sporty?”

“I’d like something with some power,” he said. “More than the

one I’m driving. Good on curves, good-looking, and—ooh, my.
That looks like just the ticket.”

He gestured past me. I was already cringing before I turned

around because I knew which car had caught his eye.

God. Any car but this one.

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I cleared my throat. “Fantastic car. We just got these in a

couple of weeks ago”—has it been that long already?—“and they
are amazing.”

He gave the car a long, bumper-to-bumper look, the vehicular

equivalent of the down-up leer. “New or used?”

“Brand-new. Less than a hundred miles on her.” And weren’t

thirty of those some of the most mind-bending miles I’ve ever
driven? “Want to give her a try?”

He hesitated, eyeing the sticker on the window. “I’m not sure

I’m ready to pay quite that much.”

“Well, it looks like you’ve got a trade-in,” I said, indicating his

car again. “And we do offer excellent financing options to—”

“I don’t need to finance it,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“I’m just not too keen on the price.”

“We can certainly negotiate,” I said. “Why don’t you take her

out on the road and see if she’s worth negotiating over?”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “All right. Sure.”
After he’d provided proof of insurance and a driver’s license, I

checked out the keys and dealer plates, and then we were off. I
directed him toward Pine Boulevard, since there was no better
place to try out a car like this.

As Mr. Bates put the car through its paces, I could barely

concentrate enough to answer his questions. Not good. I was
supposed to be selling the car right then. Pointing out how well she
handled the curves and held the road, how she effortlessly went up
some of the steeper inclines and purred on the straightaways.

But all I could think about was the last time this car and I were

out here, and who’d been sitting in the seat where I was currently
squirming and losing my fucking mind. And all the things that had
transpired afterward. My God, as much as I needed this paycheck,

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I was starting to wonder if I needed Jackson more. It was simple
lust, just a crush and some serious chemistry, but I wanted to know
him, too. I wanted to feel how deep that chemistry could really run.

Finally, we made it back to the dealership. I had him park up

front by the showroom so that he could see “his” car while we
were inside negotiating. As we got out of the car, a hand clapped
my shoulder, and I turned, expecting to see my father intervening
as he often did.

But it wasn’t Dad.
“Has Sean here told you about the powertrain warranty on this

baby?” Jackson asked with a grin. He glanced at me, and
something flickered in his eyes so briefly I might have imagined it.
He recovered, though, and looked at the customer. “Best warranty
you’re going to get on a car like this.”

Mr. Bates nodded. “He did explain it, yes. I’m just not sure

about the price.”

“Well, how did she handle for you?” Jackson ran his fingers

along the fender, like he was caressing the car. “Try her out on
some curves?”

“Oh, yes.” Mr. Bates smiled. “Sean here had me take it out on

Pine Boulevard.”

Jackson’s smile faltered briefly, and his eyes darted toward me.

“Did he, now?” He grinned, but the remnants of that falter
remained in his eyes, though I doubted anyone noticed but me.
“How’d you like driving her out there?”

“Handled like a dream.” Mr. Bates ran his hand along the

fender, caressing it just like Jackson had. “This thing’s really built
for winding roads, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.” Jackson glanced at me again, then cleared his

throat. “You and this car seem like a great fit. Why don’t we go

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41

inside and see what we can work out as far as the price?”

Mr. Bates nodded. “Sure. Let’s talk.”
We led him into the showroom. It took a good hour and a half

of negotiating, but Jackson and I finally found a price that satisfied
Mr. Bates. After another hour or so, all the paperwork was
finished. I handed him the keys, we both shook hands with him,
and he drove his new red sports car off the lot.

Jackson and I stood at the showroom window and watched him

leave.

“Almost sad to see that one go,” Jackson said.
“Are you?”
He said nothing. He watched until the car turned the corner and

was out of sight, and then he walked away without a word.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. At least we wouldn’t

ever have to work together on a deal like that again, trying to sell
someone the car in which we’d made out like a couple of
teenagers. I would never have to ride shotgun in that thing again
while someone else hugged the same curves I’d driven while
Jackson and I had sped toward the inevitable.

But I did still have to work with him. There would be other

cars, even if those cars weren’t scenes of crimes I wished we could
commit over and over and over again. There would still be those
moments when we passed in the halls and the lots and the
showroom, and those glances we’d exchange while I wondered
what the hell he was thinking.

Sighing, I looked out at street, which was conspicuously devoid

of a certain candy apple red car. I definitely needed to get on the
ball and get another job. At this point, I didn’t care if I ended up
working as a checkout clerk at the grocery store.

I couldn’t work with Jackson anymore.

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CHAPTER 7

I was just coming off my lunch break—still no openings on the

job hunt websites, damn it—when Jackson intercepted me on my
way to clock back in.

“You busy?” he asked.
“No, I’m not. What’s up?”
“Mind coming by my office for a minute?”
I swallowed. There was no worse torture—or temptation—than

being behind closed doors with Jackson, but I still said, “Yeah. I’ll
be right there.”

I clocked back in, and then joined Jackson in his office. As I

took a seat in front of his desk, I quickly took him in like I did
potential buyers, watching his body language to try to predict
which way this might go.

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43

He was nervous. That was beyond weird, because Jackson

didn’t get nervous. But he tapped his fingers rapidly beside his
keyboard and chewed his lip as he avoided my eyes.

“So, um.” I cleared my throat. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes and released a long breath. Then he

folded his arms on the edge of his desk, which stopped his tapping
fingers, but a subtle thud-thud-thud suggested he was now using
his foot against his chair to release that nervous energy.

Finally, he met my eyes. “I wanted to talk to you first. So

you…so you knew what was going on.” Jackson lowered his gaze
for a moment, then looked at me again. “After we’re done talking
here, I’m going up to your dad’s office. And…I’m resigning.”

“Resigning?” I blinked. “Are you insane? You’ve been here

forever!”

Jackson nodded. “I have. And yeah, maybe I am, but…” He

shrugged. “I’ve already lined up something else. It involves a
pretty substantial pay cut, but I can live with it if I tighten up my
budget a bit.”

“Jackson, you… Why?”
“Because I can’t work like this,” he said softly. “I can’t focus.

Ever since that night we took the car out, I…”

“This is because of us?” I asked.
He nodded again. “I can’t decide if it was a mistake to get

started, or a mistake to call it off. All I know is, I can’t work like
this.”

“And you think I can?”
“I don’t know. Honestly? I don’t.” He watched his hand run

back and forth along the edge of his desk. “I just know this is
driving me insane.”

“But I can’t let you quit.”

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44

“What else can I do?” He stood and came around the desk. As

he neared my chair, I rose too, and we were eye to eye. “Sean, I
don’t want to see you fired over this. And I don’t want us both
stressing ourselves into the ground over not seeing each other, or
seeing each other and keeping it quiet.”

“And I don’t want to see you stressed or quitting,” I said.

“There’s…there’s got to be a way to make this work.” I paused,
releasing my breath. “I don’t understand why this is fucking with
my head so much. I thought it was just sex, but…”

“No.” Jackson shook his head slowly. “I don’t think this has

ever been just sex. Not even when we thought it was.”

“Then what…what is it?”
“I don’t even know what it is,” he said. “I just don’t want to

pretend this job is more important.” He touched my face. “I’m not
in love with you.” His thumb traced a slow, soft line along my jaw.
“Not yet.”

“What does that even mean?”
“It means it’s too soon to know where this could go,” he

whispered. “But too late to convince myself I can walk away
without regretting it.”

My knees shook, and I could barely breathe with his hand

caressing my cheek. “So what do we do? I can’t let you give up
everything you’ve worked for. Not for me.”

“Then give me an alternative,” he pleaded. “Because I can’t…

Fuck, I can’t sleep. I can’t work. I don’t know what else to do.”

“What if things don’t work out between us?” I asked. “And

even if they do, how long before you resent me for being the
reason you gave up a good solid job?”

“Jobs are replaceable.” He ran a gentle hand through my hair.

“You’re not.”

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45

“God, Jackson, you’re—” I pulled him close and pressed my

lips to his. He wrapped his arms around me. For all that was at
stake, and all we were gambling for something that was so young
and unpredictable, this felt right. It felt perfect. Like there was no
other alternative than being together, regardless of what we had to
do to make it happen. After two weeks of pretending I didn’t need
to touch him, I relaxed into his embrace and had never felt so
relieved. So much like I’d corrected a massive mistake before I had
a chance to really regret it.

Touching his forehead to mine, he sighed. “This was so much

easier before I knew what you felt like.”

“Back before we took each other for a test drive?”
Jackson laughed softly, and drew back enough to look me in

the eye. “Yeah. Something like that.”

I took a breath. “Let’s go talk to my dad. Maybe…maybe we

can reason with him.”

Jackson arched an eyebrow. “How much reasoning can be done

with a man who’d fire his own son over something like this
without a second thought?”

I held his gaze. We both knew my dad too well to suggest he

was flexible or open-minded about, well, anything. His general
manager dating an employee? Especially when that employee was
his son? Wasn’t going to fly.

I ran my fingers through Jackson’s hair. “I don’t know what

else to do.”

“Neither do I.” He leaned in and kissed me lightly. “I just want

whatever ends in us having a chance to be together.”

I swallowed. “Then let’s talk to him.”
Jackson nodded. “Let’s go.”

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46

* * *

At Dad’s door, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. That

Pavlovian response was kicking in hardcore now.

Jackson squeezed my shoulder. “It’ll work out. One way or

another.”

I glanced at him. “Says the man who’s already got a job lined

up. You think I’m working here because I want to be?”

He winced, but didn’t offer much more reassurance.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said.
Jackson nodded.
I tapped on the door.
“It’s open,” came the terse response.
I took another breath, and then opened the door.
“Sean,” Dad said with a curt nod. Then he looked past me.

“And Jackson. What can I do for you boys?”

I swallowed. “Do you have a minute?” I gestured at Jackson.

“There’s something we need to discuss with you.”

Dad’s eyes darted back and forth between us, and from the way

they narrowed slightly, I wondered if he’d already put two and two
together.

Yes, Dad, this is who I had in mind when we had that other

conversation.

Yes, we did it anyway.
“All right.” He sat straighter in his oversized leather chair.

“Have a seat.”

Jackson and I sat in the chairs in front of Dad’s desk. Dad eyed

the gap between the armrests, like he was searching for any
incriminating evidence, any subtle encroachment of the space
between our arms.

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47

“So.” He glanced back and forth from me to Jackson. “What’s

this about?”

“I…” I looked at Jackson.
Dad’s eyes narrowed again. Glaring at me, he asked, “Is this

about what we discussed recently?”

My heart beat faster. I pushed my shoulders back. “Yes.”
Dad’s gaze slid toward Jackson. “Is that right?”
“It is,” Jackson said.
“And how long has this been going on?”
Jackson glanced at me and took a deep breath. “It hasn’t,

honestly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means we stopped seeing each other,” I said. “For the sake

of abiding by the rules and both of us keeping our jobs.”

Dad’s forehead creased. “Then why are we having this

discussion?”

“Mr. Waters,” Jackson said. “We stopped seeing each other out

of respect for how you ask your employees to interact, and in the
interest of keeping our jobs.” He reached across the gap between
us, and when his hand came to rest on the back of mine, Dad and I
both straightened. “But we want to see each other, and not behind
anyone’s backs.”

Dad glared at each of us in turn. “And what happens if I say I

won’t allow this?”

I swallowed. “Then I’ll find a job somewhere else.”
“And so will I,” Jackson said.
Dad jumped. “You’ll both quit?”
“If I have to choose between this job and Jackson,” I said,

“then…yes.” This felt reckless and crazy, putting our livelihoods
on the line for a fledgling fling that didn’t even qualify as a

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48

relationship. Not yet, at least. It felt reckless, but somehow felt
right. Like the dice had been thrown and I knew in my gut they’d
roll a seven.

Dad stared at me. Then Jackson. Then me again.
“Dad,” I said. “I’m a grown man. So is he. We’re not asking

your permission.”

His posture stiffened, and Jackson’s hand tensed on the back of

mine.

I didn’t back down. “We all have to work together. That’s the

reason we’re having this conversation. Not to ask your permission
to see each other.”

Dad blinked. “You’re both gambling with careers and

paychecks. Are you complete idiots?”

“No,” I said. “But quite honestly, I was miserable at my last job

for other reasons. I bent over backward for them, and I’ve bent
over backward for you. There’s only so much”—I paused,
glancing at Jackson—“there’s only so much I’m willing to give up
in exchange for a paycheck.”

“And where does this little ultimatum leave me?” Dad thumbed

his chin as he eyed us across his desk. “Either I lose two
employees, or I have two employees with a relationship interfering
with them doing their jobs?”

“What’s interfering with my work,” Jackson said, speaking

slowly like he was choosing his words carefully, “is pretending I
don’t feel this way about him.”

My breath caught in my throat. I glanced at him, and he smiled

nervously. Then we both looked at my father again.

Dad exhaled and leaned against his desk. “Sean, you’re my

son. I want you to be happy. I do. And Jackson, you’re one of my
best employees. The last thing I want to do is chase you out of

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49

here.”

Jackson and I were both silent.
After a long moment, Dad said, “I don’t like this, but it sounds

like the two of you are bound and determined no matter what I
say.” He lowered his chin, eyeing us both. “But I don’t want to see
it during working hours. Am I clear?”

I nodded, heart racing as cool relief rushed through my veins.
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said.
Dad eyed both of us. “Are we done here?”
We both nodded, and Dad tersely dismissed us. As soon as I’d

closed the door behind us, we both released long breaths.

Jackson glanced up and down the empty hall, and then slipped

his hand into mine. “Well, that went better than I expected.”

“Yeah, me, too.” I squeezed his hand. “We still have our jobs.”
“I still have you.”
“That wasn’t up in the air,” I said.
He smiled. “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t worried about it.”
I touched his face, then leaned in and kissed him. “We should

get back to work. Before Dad has a real reason to fire us.”

Jackson laughed. “Good idea. But first…”
And he kissed me again.

TEST DRIVE

50

CHAPTER 8

It was by the grace of God we made it through the day without

one or both of us bursting into flames. The looks we exchanged
whenever we passed each other were loaded with all the want and
need that had to wait until tonight.

After I’d clocked out, I met up with him as he came out of his

office.

“My place?” he asked.
“I’ll meet you there.”
Twenty minutes never lasted so long. I swore every broken line

between the lanes stretched out for miles, and by the time I finally
pulled into Jackson’s driveway, I was ready to lose my mind.

Out of the cars. Into the house. We didn’t touch. Didn’t speak.

Every motion, every step, seemed to be in slow motion as we made

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51

our way down the hall to his bedroom. He closed the door, and we
faced each other, the dim light underscoring the desire crackling in
his blue eyes. There was no reason to stop tonight, but still we
weren’t in a hurry.

Jackson toed off his shoes. I did the same. As he came toward

me, eyes locked on mine, my knees shook, so I sat on the edge of
the bed.

“Hope you don’t have any plans for the evening.” Jackson

knelt over me, his legs warming mine through our clothes.

“If I did, they’re all canceled now.” I cupped his face in both

hands as I pulled him into a kiss.

He hooked his finger under the knot in my tie, and slid it free.

As he unbuttoned the top button of my shirt, I went for his tie, and
my fingers sliding along the smooth silk reminded me of running
my hands across his skin.

Shirts and ties fell softly onto the floor. Belts jingled. Slacks,

boxers, socks, and finally, there was nothing between us. Jackson
leaned into me, and I let his body weight lower us both onto the
bed. We kissed, held on, pressed together. This wasn’t a feverish
quest for orgasms, just a need to touch, taste, and lose ourselves
completely in each other.

This was completely different from the other times we’d been

to bed together. There wasn’t the fear of unavoidable
consequences. There wasn’t the thrill of something new and
unexplored. The fear and the thrill were still there, but they ran so
much deeper. This was flesh I’d touched before, a kiss I’d tasted
before, and the sum of all these overwhelming things was no
longer a forbidden indulgence, but a surrender to an unknown and
unpredictable future. The first step out onto the tight rope with no
net underneath.

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52

To hell with it. If I fell, I fell. I loved the way he touched me,

and I loved touching him. The way his mouth felt against mine, the
way his hand felt as he reached between us and stroked my hard
cock, the way his breath rushed across my cheek when I did the
same—it was all amazing.

I pushed him onto his back, and then held myself up on one

arm beside him. As I stroked him, he stroked me, and his other
hand gripped the back of my neck, refusing to let me break this
long, breathless kiss. As if I could have broken it even without his
firm grasp.

All at once, he let go of my neck, and our lips separated.
“I can’t wait,” he said. “We need a condom. Right now.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” I reached for the

nightstand drawer where he kept all the essentials.

We sat up, and I poured some lube in my hand as Jackson tore

the wrapper with his teeth.

“The first night,” he said, “you told me you thought I’d be a

top.”

I nodded. “I did.”
“And if I was.” He slipped the condom free from the wrapper.

“Would you have let—”

“In a fucking heartbeat.”
Jackson grinned. Then he rolled the condom onto his own

erection. All the breath left my lungs. I thought I was going to
come just watching him put on the condom, and once again when
he drew my hand toward him and we both lubed up his thick cock.

“I want you on your back,” he whispered, pausing to kiss me.

“So I can see you.”

“Like the sound of that.” I put a pillow under my hips and

spread my legs for him. He poured some lube onto his hand. His

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53

lubricated fingers teased me until I was more than ready for him,
and then—finally, oh God—he sat up, positioning himself over me.

He watched himself press into me, and then…then I didn’t

know, because my vision blurred over, and all I could concentrate
on was the intense and amazing sensation of his cock pushing into
me, and then pushing deeper.

He closed his eyes and released a breath through parted lips.

“Oh, God.”

“Come down…come down here,” I whispered.
He did, and I grabbed onto him. Kissed him. He whimpered

softly into my kiss, and thrust into me as hard as this position
allowed. The faster he moved, the harder we both breathed, and
finally we gave up on kissing. Our lips brushed. Every breath
crossed paths. I wanted to kiss him, but we both panted too hard,
moved too much.

Then Jackson pushed himself up, threw his head back and

thrust a few more times, hard and shallow, desperate and uneven,
until he shuddered and collapsed on top of me.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered.
I just groaned. My whole body was shaking, and even

breathing was a challenge.

He lifted himself up carefully, and then pulled out, making us

both shiver in the process. “Be right back,” he said. He got up, and
grabbed the edge of the bed for balance.

“You okay?” I asked.
He nodded, then grinned at me. “Just a little unsteady.”
“You’re welcome.”
He laughed. “I’ll be right back.”
A moment later, he returned, and climbed into bed beside me.

We pulled the sheet over us—entirely too hot for anything else—

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54

and settled in, facing each other.

Jackson lifted my chin with his fingers and met my eyes. It

seemed like one of those moments where one of us should have
said something. Maybe something profound, or emotional, or a
joke to break the tension. But instead, Jackson kissed me. We sank
against each other, into each other, and didn’t say a word. We just
kissed.

It was impossible to know where the future would take us.

When we got to know each other for real, when the butterflies got
tired and the novelty wore off, maybe we’d decide this wasn’t what
we wanted, and go our separate ways. Maybe it was just lust, and
falling in love with him was a fantasy.

But wrapped up in his arms and a lazy but passionate kiss, I

couldn’t bring myself to be afraid of that uncertain future. Of
where this might or might not go.

Because if where we were now was any indication, there’d be

no fading away or drifting apart. I wanted to fall in love with
Jackson. I wanted him to fall in love with me.

And lying with him like this, I knew we would.

L.

A.

W

ITT

L. A. Witt is an abnormal M/M romance writer who, after three
years in Okinawa, Japan, has recently relocated to Omaha,
Nebraska, with her husband, two cats, and a three-headed
clairvoyant parakeet named Fred. There is some speculation that
this move was not actually because of her husband’s military
orders, but to help L. A. close in on her arch nemesis, erotica
author Lauren Gallagher, who has also recently transferred to
Omaha. So, don’t anyone tell Lauren. She’s not getting away this
time…

To learn more about L. A. Witt, please visit her website at
http://www.loriawitt.com.

* * *

Don’t miss Getting Off The Ground

by L. A. Witt,

available at AmberAllure.com!

After being stood up at the altar, compulsive over-planner Elliott
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