Hard Ride (12 page)

Chapter Thirty One

Houston kept his hands over her eyes, guiding her into the main garage. He’d been waiting to give her the gift.

The months after Mike’s arrest, and her subsequent “I love you”
led into a lot of interesting shared moments. He’d learned not to ask if she PMSing, even in jest. And he’d learned to duck. But overall, living with his Hellcat would never be boring.

“Come on, Houston, I know we’re in the shop.” She stopped, putting hands on hips and refusing to budge.

“Fine, stubborn wench. Ready?” he pressed his front to her back, and gave a little thrust with his hips.

“It’s the smell of gas and oil, isn’t it?” she giggled.

“Ever since that first time, I’ll never be able to work on an engine without a raging hard on.” He pulled his hands away, slipping his arms around her waist. “Open.”

Her body tensed, and he picked up the little jerk in her body as she saw the Judge. It was perfect. He’d had it completely restored.
It’d been covered when she’d come in that day, so she’d never realized he’d been working on it. Over time, she’d asked, he’d inferred it couldn’t be fixed.

They were preparing to testify against Michael Collins and Hastings Green. The Judge was just what she needed to get her mind off it.

“Houston,” she breathed, gently untangling herself, and walking to the shining orange muscle car. He watched as she reached out with a shaky hand, “He’s beautiful.” She turned, and he saw the rare tears filling her bright green eyes. “Thank you,” she turned, but he caught the little sniffle.

“I know you love that car, did you honestly believe I would let it get tossed into a salvage yard?” he’d moved to the front of the car, watching her.

Although none of the embezzled funds would be recovered, Katie was doing a good job of recovering. She’d had Bethany take over, and the woman was a godsend with accounting. Houston still peeked, just to be sure.

Reverently, she ran light fingertips over the edges, purring. The antennae was stroked three times, and Houston adjusted himself. Popping the hood, she leaned over the radiator, and Houston had to turn away from the sight of her ass in the air over an open engine. She touched, and stroked engine components, humming and smiling. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

Securing the hood, she made another circuit of the car, hands trailing on the new paint job. S
he opened the driver’s door and sat in the new wrap around racing seat. Adjusting it, and putting on the five point seat belt, she smiled and crooked a finger at him. “Wanna go for a ride, big boy?” and winked.

Houston laughed, jumped in through the window, much to her amusement, and put on his seatbelt.

“You do know I’m fixing to take you for one hell of a ride, right?” she smiled wide.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Hellcat, wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Note from Author:

First of all, thank you for picking up Hard Ride. I know, it shows my amateur attempt to write romance, but hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

Two, I hope it kindles an interest in cars.

Three, I hope you find your Houston, or your Katie, whichever you need.

Thanks!

Trixie Pierce

Dedication:

To my Dad – not the sex part, your perverts, but the cars, the raising me to be who I am, not what society told him to do. Encouraging me every step, even when he knew I was “writing one of those smut books.”

Acknowledgements:

Yeah, you’re going to find mistakes. *Shrug* I’m human. I’ve worked on cars my whole life, but that doesn’t mean I know it all. I’m still learning stuff. Many thanks to a few former Naval Intelligence cousins who told me what I could and couldn’t do, as well as telling me “Keep it short and sweet.” They won’t let me put their names.