Swerve: Boosted Hearts (Volume 1) Read Online Free Page A

night making you come so hard you’ll forget your own name.
    His huskily spoken words had been stuck in a loop in her head since he said them three days ago. He’d shocked her with his frankness. He’d also turned her on beyond all reason. But he’d mistaken her warring emotions—the strong reaction she had to him, followed by her attempt at ignoring all commonsense, and her ever-present insecurities—for fear. She hadn’t been afraid; she just hadn’t known how to tell him what she wanted.
    She’d actually convinced herself to go for it. Then he’d read her wrong, and she’d been too much of a coward to set him straight. She could almost see her grandmother jumping for joy when she climbed in the car with him—then shaking her head in disappointment when she let the opportunity pass, and he drove away.
    His dark brown eyes were still locked on her, did not falter. She quivered. All over. A sizzle of electricity moved over her skin and just like that, she was sucked back into the big man’s magnetic force field. She swallowed hard and fought the sudden urge to climb into his lap and wrap herself around him like a python.
    “Shay?”
    She jumped at the sound of her name coming from his lips, as if he’d snuck up on her and shouted, “Boo!”
    He smiled.
    The man really was ridiculously handsome. Things started tingling down below. She cleared her throat. “It’s nice to see you again.”
    His gaze moved over her, before coming back to her face. “Glad to see you’re not walking the other way.”
    No. She wasn’t, she was leaning so far forward her boobs were almost resting on his chin. She straightened quickly, and his smile turned into a grin.
    “Well, that might just get me fired.” She was trying for easy confidence but didn’t think she pulled it off. Not when he sat so completely at ease, those solid, muscled arms resting on the table, his thick fingers, rough and grease stained, held in loose fists in front of him. His shoulders relaxed and so wide, the sight of them made her heart whiz around in her chest like a stuck balloon deflating.
    “Wouldn’t want that, sweetheart,” the guy with him said.
    She hadn’t even noticed him sitting there. He was a leaner version of her mountain man. He had tattoos on his forearms, extremely short hair, and instead of a full beard, he looked as if he hadn’t shaved in several days. They had to be related.
    He was grinning at her, as well.
    She shook off her humiliating stupor. She was there to take their drink order, not stare like a nutcase. “So what’ll it be, boys?”
    What’ll it be, boys?
    She’d never uttered that phrase in all her twenty-five years of existence. She sounded like a gum chewing, cliché diner babe with an attitude problem.
    The other man’s eyes crinkled around the edges before he rubbed one tattooed hand across his cropped hair. “A couple beers should do it.”
    “Okeydokey.” She inwardly winced.
    “How long’ve you worked here?” her mountain man rumbled.
    Yes, rumbled , pulling her attention back to him.
    She had to clear her throat. Again . “Um, about two months.”
    His brow lifted, but he said no more, just stared at her in a way that made her want to squirm.
    “I’ll just”—she pointed to the bar—“get your drinks.” Then she hustled in the opposite direction quick smart, before she fell on the floor and had a mini heart attack at his feet.
    She’d never been more thankful that the bar was crazy busy. With her tables full she had an excuse to deliver their drinks and run. But as hard as she tried to ignore them—ignore him —she couldn’t. Not when she felt his gaze on her the entire time, burning so hot her nipples tingled, and between her legs throbbed and ached to the point of distraction.
    Her grandmother’s voice echoed through her mind. If opportunity doesn’t knock, build a damn door, Cupcake.
    Did she want to build a door? And if she did, was she brave enough to walk though it?

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