Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
JACE
He continued to be surprised by her wit, her radiant power, her hot, wicked mouth. Her pink tongue flashed as she produced the stem from her mouth, revealing a tight knot. Smirking, she dropped the stem onto the table.
“Your turn.”
He flushed, his boxers the only thing he had left to take off. He hated losing. She wasn’t only tying cherry stems into knots; she was tying his alibi into a knot as well.
“I don’t have any truths to tell,” he rasped.
Her smile was simpering as she leaned closer. The swells of her breasts pressed against him, her eyes raking down
his body before purring into his ear.
“Drop ’em.”
American Tail by Lady Jane
Narrated by Brittney Houston
D eck shorts were a bad choice for a valet uniform. Someone must’ve complained about being too hot because three weeks ago when I showed up for my usual Sunday shift at the Green Valley Country Club, I was handed a pair of shorts and asked to change. But when your job requires you to sit on the black leather interior of a car that’s been baking in the Tennessee summer sun, it’s surface-of-the-sun hot.
Torture hot.
Peel-off-a-layer-of-skin hot.
Still, not hot enough for me to change jobs. I liked parking cars, much to my momma’s disappointment. Being relatively attractive and polite, I made good tips, and some patrons even asked for me by name. And considering that my sixteen-year-old coworkers looked barely old enough to ride a ten-speed much less drive a stick shift, I was usually asked to drive the more expensive rides.
Today I was working the morning shift, the shift I preferred, when the first golfers arrived. Spotting those first morning golf parties now rounding hole fifteen, I checked my watch, impressed. They were making good time.
“Hey, Tim,” I called out to my twenty-year-old valet manager, who was standing at the valet podium under the stone portico. “You mind staying out here while I take my break? The next brunch rush should be coming in half an hour.”
Tim spent most of his time inside the air-conditioned clubhouse and looked scared whenever anyone talked to him, despite being, in all actuality, our boss.
He jumped when I said his name, then looked down at his phone, nervously. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, Jace. Shoot, you should’ve been allowed to go an hour ago.”
“No worries, Cal needed a break more than me. I let him go cool off after leaving a layer of his skin on a leather seat earlier this morning.”
Tim grimaced. “I guess shorts weren’t my best idea.”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “Not for leather seats.” I lowered my voice. “Not all our ideas can be winners. My advice? Let people choose between shorts and pants. Denice won’t mind.” I saw Tim swallow at the mention of the Country Club’s manager. Denice was known for being a ballbuster. “But if she gives you grief, I’d bring up worker’s comp and heatstroke.”
Tim nodded in response as I clapped him on the shoulder. I’d just started to turn toward the employee entrance when I heard Tim squeak, “Uh, Jace?”
I quirked an eyebrow.
“Actually, you mind staying out here for a few more minutes? I gotta take a leak.”
Dipping my chin, I walked back to the podium as he hurried away. Poor kid. He tried hard. Denice had offered me Tim’s job at least once every three months, but I was happy where I was. It was midmorning in early June and the weather was perfect: clear sky, cool breeze, and eighty degrees. I took a deep cleansing breath, the smell of the freshly mowed grass filling my lungs. I loved being outside at this time of day. It beat being cooped up in an office somewhere.
A buzz of my watch alerted me that my buddy Sam had texted me, so I dug my phone out of my pocket.
Sam: Have you ever trapped an armadillo?
Laughing at my best friend’s ridiculous question, I typed out my response.
Jace : Not a hobby of mine
Sam : We had a request
Jace : It sounds illegal
Sam : They signed the waiver
Jace : I hear they carry leprosy
Sam : What’s leprosy?
Shortly after Sam had finished college, he started a company called Jack of All Trades, with the slogan “We do the DIY jobs you hate.” People asked for the typical stuff, cleaning gutters, emptying out a garage, laying mulch. But sometimes, he’d get strange requests. And being his best friend and most frequently used independent contractor, I was privy to the really weird shit. Like wrangling an armadillo.
Sam and I were the same age at twenty-four. Growing up, we both disliked school, but for different reasons. For Sam, it was because of issues with focus and organization; for me, it was because I wasn’t a fan of doing things that seemed pointless. But unlike me, Sam actually finished his degree at a local community college. I dropped out after a year of higher education because I never found a career I could picture myself doing for the rest of my life. Why would I waste money on a four-year degree studying something I hated? I would much rather have a handful of small jobs I liked than be miserable in a career that looked good on paper. And yet, I was made to feel, mostly by my momma, and ok, yes, my older brother, and a few folks in town too, that I was going nowhere in life.
But at least I wouldn’t be going through a painful, disfiguring disease process.
Jace : Don’t find out. Say no
Seeing a black Tesla approach, I pocketed my phone and walked to the other side of the portico. My mind was still preoccupied on saving my friend from himself as I made out the outline of a woman in the driver’s seat. Once the car parked, the driver’s door opened and I grabbed it by rote, starting my typical spiel.
“Hi, I’m from the valet service. . .”
My words trailed off as a sexy red high heel touched the pavement. My eyes trailed up the bona fide blonde knockout in front of me as she smoothly rose from the driver’s seat. She stood tall in heels, only a few inches shorter than my six-two frame. Her clear skin shone in the morning sun, sunglasses hiding her eyes. My hand twitched with a strange urge to remove them, curious to discover the eye color hidden beneath. Suddenly, a ghost of a sound left her lips, and she whipped back around, bending over to lean into the driver’s seat.
A sleek black dress covered her from neck to knees. For all intents and purposes, it would be considered conservative. It even had pearl buttons down the back.
But that’s not what got my attention.
I was singularly focused on one very prominent asset in front of me. Her dress was tight and stretched with her, highlighting every dip and curve of her truly delectable body as she bent forward into her car.
Remembering I was at my place of employment and staring inappropriately at a patron, I averted my eyes. But they darted back to her quickly as I heard a soft feminine exhale. She’d leaned further into the car, causing her backside to turn up all the more. I tried again not to notice. I mean, I really tried. But then her left heel lifted out of her shoe as she stretched, causing me to reflexively shift closer to her, as if I was going to what? Wrap my hands around her waist and steady her?
Chastising myself, I shuffled two steps away just as she rocked back into her heel and stood. For a moment, it seemed like one of those slow-motion movie montages was playing out in front of me. As she turned, she gave a flick of her head to the left, deftly removing her sunglasses in one go. Her blonde hair waved like a shining curtain in front of her as she quickly snapped her head back to center. Bright green eyes fixed to mine as her silky hair tumbled past her shoulders.
Have mercy.
I had no choice but to stare at the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was older than me. I had no idea how much older, and at that moment, I didn’t care. Tall and graceful, full pink lips, I noted a few strands of hair were stuck on her kissable lips. I once again had the reflexive urge to reach for her, to take that lock of hair between my fingers, wondering if it felt as soft as it looked. Her gaze held mine as she gave me a slight smile, making me feel as if I’d been punched in the gut.
I’d always been an unrufflable, easygoing type of guy. But this woman, with her stunning eyes and pretty mouth, was my undoing. Despite clearing my throat, my voice still came out rough.
“I’m Jace, your valet. Would you like to use me?”
Holy shit, man. Get it together.
“I mean us. Use our service, the valet service.” I fumbled my words, like a complete fool.
Eyeing me curiously, her small smile grew infinitesimally bigger. I was so focused on her face, I didn’t notice she’d been discreetly holding out her keys to me until her gaze dropped to her hand.
“Let me take those for you.” I grinned sheepishly, my hand brushing hers as I took the keys. Digging deep and finding some sort of smile to plaster on my face, I held out her valet ticket.
“Thank you.” Her reply was deeper than I expected, with a little rasp. I swear to God, I felt that rasp all the way down to my dick.
“Ma’am,” I drawled. Good manners had been drilled into me from little on.
Her face dimmed at my words. I frowned when she took my ticket hurriedly and handed me a folded bill. I didn’t even have time to say thank you before she abruptly turned to walk toward the club’s entrance.
I couldn’t move. My eyes were too busy following her as she made her way to the front doors.
She was magnificent. Lithe body. Perfect posture.
I looked down at the tip in my hand.
And loaded. Her tip was twenty bucks. And that was only for dropping off her car.
I glanced back to the front doors, but she was gone.
I wondered what her name was.
It doesn’t matter. She’s older than you, gorgeous, probably married to the owner or some shit.
I bet her name was just as perfect and polished as she seemed.
You’re never going to find out. Quit being a tool.
I got into her car and briefly adjusted the seat back. Then, after turning the car back on, I shifted into drive. I’d just begun driving forward when a deep voice came over the speaker.
“He lapped at her hot, wet pussy, making her moan and thrash, her clit shaking wildly on his tongue. He grabbed her ass, bringing her pussy closer to him still, feasting on her, loving the feel of her.”
Words escaped me as I slammed on the brakes. I immediately reached for the volume, turning it all the way down. The console read American Tail by Lady Jane.
Huh. Was this some sort of porn podcast? Did they even make those?
I looked in the rearview mirror, then back to the front doors of the club.
Empty.
Hesitantly, curiosity burning in my veins, I slowly turned the volume up again, keeping it quieter this time.
“You like that, baby?” His voice was gravely and deep as she hummed and thrashed, just as into this as he was. “I bet you do, you dirty girl, come for me, princess. Fucking come for me.”
Gobsmacked, I leaned back in the seat as I listened to a guy moan in ecstasy through the speakers.
This was low key the dirtiest podcast I’d ever come across.
Laughing in disbelief, I eased off the brake. I drove a few car lengths toward the parking lot when the audio stopped. I looked down to troubleshoot when realization hit me. Whatever she was listening to must’ve been on her phone, and as I drove away, her Bluetooth cut out.
After parking, I immediately searched on my phone for American Tail and Lady Jane. I wanted to know what this siren of a woman, whose perfect composure and elegant grace were completely at odds with her fuck-me heels, was listening to.
Instantly I got hits.
And I’ll be damned, it wasn’t a podcast. It was a book. An audiobook, to be exact. Lady Jane was a romance novelist, American Tail amongst her top-selling books. As a teenager, my sister used to hide books like this under her bed; “Books for the devil” my momma had called ’em.
Curiousity burned in my veins, wondering what else this seemingly proper woman listened to. Was the whole book full of stuff like that?
Before I could think twice, I pulled up the author’s page and scrolled to find American Tail. The devil on my shoulder grinned as I hit BUY NOW .