“Wanna go a round with me?” With those six little words, Sadie stole the air from my lungs.

“What? Here?”


She pulled up her fists, rolling her eyes. “This kind of going a round, not the getting naked and fucking it out kind.”


“Oh.” Didn’t I feel stupid? And frustrated as hell. “Are you serious? I told you the first day we met I don’t hit girls. After you hit me.”


A faint smile curved her kissable lips. “I know. That’s what makes you so much fun.”


She unclasped the hooks of her overalls at her shoulders.


“Now what the hell are you doing?” I sprang toward her, stilling her hands. My cock sprang to attention, too.


Big surprise.


“Well I can’t fight ya in these. They’re too baggy.” Wresting free of my hold, she dropped the paint-stained denim to her feet. “I’m wearing boxers, see?”


“Of course you are.” They were light blue and almost modest. But she was wearing nothing else but a black ribbed tank top—nipples firmly pressed against the thin cloth—and no lines of a bra.


Her tits swung, soft and inviting, as she held out her arms. “What? Boxers are good enough for you, aren’t they?”


“Don’t wear boxers.” I defensively cupped my crotch.


Sadie touched my wrist, underneath which my dick already pulsed, pounded, needed her. “Oh. You’re a briefs man then.”


With a strangled cough-choke, I said nothing, looking anywhere but at her.


“Ohhh.” Her eyes wide and comprehending, she licked the bow of her upper lip. “So, you wanna strip off too?” She leered at me.


“In general, I go commando.” Hairs on my wrists bristled where she touched me. My face flushed. “I wear a jockstrap under my shorts when I workout.”


“Even better. Shuck off the shorts,” Sadie ordered.


Oh dear Lord, she was definitely flirting with me. It was better than fighting, but I wasn’t sure how long my willpower would last especially with her standing there, just two small articles of clothing away from being naked. It was crazy, but her in the tank top and boxer shorts was a damn sight sexier than any of the primped and preened girls I’d ever been with.


For the first time I truly noticed how long her legs were. How high and round her breasts were. The way tiny fine hairs glinted on the nape of her neck, showing on that delicate expanse of skin with her hair swinging in the usual ponytail.


There was a hot snap to the cool air in the shed as if a current of electricity raced between us.


“Not taking my shorts off,” I gritted out.


“Scaredy cat.” She snapped the waistband of my shorts, her blunt fingernails scratching lightly against my lower pelvis, dangerously close to the thump-throb of my erection.


In a flash, I had Sadie on the floor. She kicked at me with her heels. She flew at me with her fists. Her legs wound around me, and she managed to flip me to my back. Her hair started falling free of the ponytail, and sandy gold strands wisped around her face. Hopping to her feet, she crouched above me.


“Gotcha!” she shouted triumphantly.


With a lightning fast strike, I gripped her around the waist and pulled her back over me. She squealed and squirmed, but I tightened my bear-hug hold. All her wriggling had a massive effect on my cock, making it rise even harder inside the confines of my jockstrap.


Sadie felt it at once. Her movements changed from frantically trying to get away to slowing down and writhing on top of me.


My head beat back to the floor with a thunk as I swallowed a groan inside. Gathering those last shreds of willpower, I flipped her off me. Then I straddled her. During our tussle, her top had rucked up, and my hands rested on the taut skin of her belly.


“What do we have here?” I changed the scorching sexual mood in a flash, tickling her bare skin.


She giggled and tried to bat my hands away, but I was relentless. I tickled her until her cheeks were bright with a pink flush, her blue eyes dancing, and she huffed between laughter and shouts.


I stopped abruptly, staring as she panted beneath me. She was perfect. I’d seen her face a thousand times, but I’d never really seen her as a woman, a beautiful, funny, foul-mouthed, vibrant woman.


I gathered a handful of her hair in my fingers, stroking the strands of honey and gold.


She bucked up beneath me, her hips arched to my groin. Her lips fell open and her gaze wandered down my chest to my shorts. My cock beat against the fabric, full and stiff.


“I think the real question is what do we have here?” she asked in a sultry purr. Her hand grazed me softly once before returning with more accuracy. She rubbed my length. “Oh, Kinkaid. Feels so hot, so heavy.”


I jerked against her, my fingers clamping down on her hair. A bead of sweat drizzled down the side of my face and onto my chest. Every single nerve ending in my body pinpointed on my dick, which pulsed as blood engorged it even more.


“Jesus.” I moved my pelvis, searching for more direct contact with her hand.


“Good Lord. You’re as big as that plank of wood and just as hard.” She dragged her fingers up and down my rigid cock.


We stared at each other, only inches apart. The moment should’ve been awkward, but it wasn’t. It was quickly becoming overheated. Or that was me, overheating. The seconds stretched out, and I blinked slowly, wondering if the connection would break.


It didn’t.

Our silent standoff ended one night when I heard him inside his room. His door was cracked as I passed by.

He moaned loudly, “Yeah, Ave. Like that, suck my balls.”


I inhaled a shaky breath before pressing the door open just an inch more. Six weeks. Six weeks I’d lived with him, trying not to fall hard only to hit the brick wall of his emotional blackout. And now he was getting off to me?


My knees felt weak.


Apparently he’d been saving up any careful consideration of me for something that sounded hypnotically raunchy, entailing things I certainly didn’t do. But I wanted to.


I wouldn’t put it past him to do a little role-playing, actually. And just like that I gave in to my voyeuristic urges. If he was going to groan my name, I should at least get a front row view.


When I peeked inside, my eyes burned and my face turned hot.


Jase’s head tilted back. The cords of his neck were rigid. He sat completely naked in the leather armchair across from me. One fist slowly pumped his cock as the fingers of his other hand slid below to cup his balls.


The door creaked. His muscles flexed. His head flew up. He caught me breathless and staring. Through the shaggy hair falling across his brow, I made out his brown eyes hooded by heavy eyelids.


“Precious. Was just thinkin’ about you.” His drawl was as thick and heavy as the cock he squeezed in his hand.


“Really? Which head were you using?” I asked in a barely steady voice.


My gaze strayed low before boring a hole into the wall above his . . . head. The one on top of his shoulders, not the one glistening as it jutted against his belly.


“Now, don’t bust my balls, gorgeous. You know we’ve been building to this, don’t you?”


Denial came swift, but it never left my tongue, the tongue that wanted to lap the stiff column of his cock.


He hooked a finger at me. “Why don’t you come over here and suck these balls instead?” He lifted the twin pink orbs in his palm.


They looked so luscious. Mouthwatering. I shook to my senses before it was too late. He wanted to turn this—us—into a lewd act. What we’d shared that day on his Harley hadn’t been dirty or indecent. He knew it. I did, too. I wasn’t going to lay a hand on him until he looked me in the eye and wanted me the same way I did him.


Dirty and raunchy was fine. Using one another was something else entirely.


I shook my head, intending to back away, determined not to become another of Jase Everly’s needy little tarts. His flavor of the day. The boy was like Baskin Robbins . . . 31 flavors, one for every day of the month.


“I don’t think so.”


“Too prissy to suck cock?”


“Too discerning to blow yours, Jase,” I hissed.


“I’m not gonna ask again. Come inside and close the damn door, Ave,” he said in a stern voice.


“Go fuck yourself,” I shot back, turning to leave.


He was there before I could escape, slamming the door shut and spinning me against it. I smelled him—spicy, a little sweaty—and it made me dizzier than I let on, glaring up at him.


Leaning to the side, he swept one hand up and down the skirt and blouse I wore. “I’m all for a little cat and mouse--Mouse—but you’re not as mousy as you make yourself out to be. And what you’re hiding underneath all this? Really turns me on, Ave.” He skimmed his nose along my jaw then nipped the sensitive skin beneath my ear. Jase whispered in a velvety voice, “Maybe you just need a little spankin’ to loosen you up.”


“Maybe you want me to hogtie your hand to your cock!”


With his warm, rough fingers sliding across my belly to my hip, he jerked me against him so I felt his hot length pressing against my thigh. “I don’t think you wanna do that. Nnh nnnh.”


When he retreated a couple steps, my body jolted with anger . . . with desire.


“No, you like this, don’t you?” He gripped himself again and made a slow show of thrusting his cock in and out of his fist, already so erect he was dark red, shiny, and swollen at the tip.


I couldn’t deny it, so I kept my mouth shut.


Jase gave me a wicked grin as he tilted his head. A throaty growl escaped him. “I’m gonna come soon. If you don’t want it in your mouth or on your body, you better go.”


Willing my eyes away and my legs to move, I scrambled for the doorknob, listening as Jase strained to say, “See you at breakfast, Ave.”


I would not let him have the last word. “I’m not going to become another one of your slutty conquests, Jase.”


“I don’t have conquests. I have fucks.”


I stumbled into the hall, his words ringing in my ears. Jase was black and white and so many shades in between I’d lost count. I wasn’t stupid. He wanted me, but he didn’t want to get attached.


Arousal hummed between my thighs.


I would not be taken for a ride by him.

​Deleted Scene from STONE, AT YOUR SERVICE