Slow Ride: Powertools: Hot Rides, Book #2 Read online

  Slow Ride

  Powertools: Hot Rides, Book #2

  Jayne Rylon

  Happy Endings Publishing

  Copyright © 2019 by Jayne Rylon

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—including email, file-sharing groups, and peer-to-peer programs—without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  If you have purchased a copy of this ebook, thank you. I greatly appreciate knowing you would never illegally share your copy of this book. This is the polite way of me saying don’t be a thieving asshole, please and thank you!

  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Refer to the don’t-be-a-thieving-asshole section above for clarification. :)

  V1

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-947093-03-4

  Print ISBN: 978-1-947093-04-1

  Contents

  About The Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Discounted Boxset - Hot Rods

  Discounted Boxset - Powertools

  Claim A $5 Gift Certificate

  What Was Your Favorite Part?

  Jayne’s Shop

  Listen Up!

  About the Author

  Also by Jayne Rylon

  About The Book

  When tragedy struck, the loss of Jordan and Wren’s shared lover ripped them apart.

  Guilt and shame made it impossible for Agent Jordan Mikalski to look the love of his life in the eye. If he couldn’t face her, he sure as hell couldn’t live with her or make love to her or even be the man to comfort her in the depths of her grief.

  Wren Asbery’s mourning threw her into a deep depression she wasn’t sure she’d ever climb out of, made worse by Jordan’s abandonment in the time of her greatest need. For that she’ll never forgive that bastard.

  After years of slow healing they realize they’re both attracted to the same man, which means they have some things to figure out fast. Will Kason Cox be doomed to lust after two people who can’t stand each other or will he be able to become the glue that sticks them back together?

  This is a standalone book in the Hot Rides series and includes an HEA with no cheating. The series is part of the greater universe where both the Powertools and Hot Rods books are also set, so you can visit with many of your previous favorite characters and see what they’re up to now!

  Additional Information

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  A complete list of Jayne’s books can be found at www.jaynerylon.com/books

  1

  Five Years Ago

  Wren kicked back in her favorite leather recliner. Sure, the thing was beat up to the point of leaking stuffing. Worse because she never remembered to take her work boots off before sitting in it. But it was comfy and still smelled faintly like the two guys she’d been missing a hell of a lot, more every day they were gone.

  Of course, she couldn’t be too sad since they were off saving the world or some shit while she was stuck in Middletown, living her boring barely-getting-by life, and working as a roving specialty welder. If Jordan and Johnny weren’t so damn noble, she probably wouldn’t love them half as much as she did. Yet even a portion of her admiration and lust would still be more than she’d ever conceived was possible until she’d experienced it herself.

  She rubbed her chest and thought about rubbing other stuff too. Just the idea of Jordan and Johnny could turn her on. And it had been too damn long since they’d been home—in her bed—to do something about it. Going cold turkey after being spoiled by two of the world’s finest lovers wasn’t easy.

  Wren had already burned through the entire stash of batteries they’d left her as a parting gag gift when they’d gone on this latest assignment to who-knew-where. Jordan and Johnny were special agents for ICE. That meant they traveled frequently and did stuff they didn’t like to talk much about when they came back, though she’d deduced they were focused on smuggling operations at the border. She respected their desire to leave that heavy shit at work, as there was plenty of stuff in her past she didn’t care to rehash or dwell on either.

  Usually their job wasn’t too dangerous, according to what they’d divulged, but lately…well, things had been changing in the world.

  Wren took a gulp of the chilled white wine she’d poured herself and closed her eyes. She pictured her boyfriends’ faces the last time they’d all lain in bed together, tangled in the sheets, their grins and bright eyes proof that they’d enjoyed what they’d shared as much as she had.

  People assumed that just because she looked one way—like a blond-haired blue-eyed angel or, god forbid, a beauty queen—that she had to act that way too. Fuck that. She’d never been one to use the right fork at a fancy dinner or dress as prim and proper as her mother had wished.

  So why should it be any different when it came to her love life?

  Jordan and Johnny had made her see that there was nothing wrong with being greedy in bed. They hadn’t said so yet, but they both loved her. Nearly as much as she adored them, she was sure. They worked together, as a team, to make sure she knew it even without exchanging those three little words that too many people said without really meaning.

  It had started out innocently enough. Johnny had hired her to fix a crack in the hull of his aluminum fishing boat last spring. She remembered how he’d insisted on helping her carry her gear down the weathered dock. Not because she was a woman, but because he was a gentleman and would have helped anyone who’d come out there that day. His favorite country singer, Kason Cox, had crooned about secret love from a dusty old radio in the corner of the shed near the no-frills cabin situated on massive Lake Logan, about fifteen miles outside of Middletown.

  They had been joined shortly by Jordan. Wren had been grateful for her face shield, which had kept them from seeing how her eyes bugged out while trying not to stare at two of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen right there, side by side, in one place.

  After her work was finished, they’d shared a few beers, some flirtation, and then several kisses, each of the guys taking turns blowing her mind and all of her preconceived notions about what a romantic relationship should look like right out of that cool lake water.

  From the moment they’d met, there had been no resisting the attraction between them.

  They’d spent the entire summer together, rivaling the scorching sun with the heat that radiated from them whenever they collided. After months of showing her exactly how much he appreciated her strength, passion, and independence, Johnny had finally convinced Wren that wearing
one of the sexy dresses he’d spotted in the back of her closet didn’t make her a vapid woman. It took longer than it should have because of the associations she’d formed between clothes like that and the socialites who wore them to her mother’s parties.

  Wren rolled her wineglass over her forehead, but it was too late. Her mind was already reliving that night. The one that had altered something inside her. The one that had made her sure they belonged together. For good.

  Johnny had talked her into trying on that fiery red dress. When she’d emerged from her bedroom draped in the bold silk, Jordan had dropped his beer. None of them had bothered to wipe up the spilled liquid or the shards of green glass.

  Instead, both men had moved as one, closing in on her.

  Johnny had twirled her, dancing around the living room to the Kason Cox song that had come on again—the same one from the boathouse, “Secret Love”. And she’d taken that as an omen. They were meant for the everlasting bond the singer was searching for in his heart-wrenching song.

  Remembering the way they’d kissed her—Jordan with fierce urgency, and Johnny with aching tenderness—she nearly sank through their favorite recliner. They satisfied both halves of her. The rough-and-tumble tomboy side and the more girly facets she’d always been afraid to embrace for fear they would make her weaker.

  Jordan was never afraid to give her what she needed, even if he was sometimes coarse or rough. He knew she could handle his blunt desire. His confidence inspired her to let loose and embrace the parts of her she’d been told were too brash, too bold, and too rugged.

  But Johnny… He was always there to make sure she was safe. He coddled her and tended to the parts that needed nurturing no matter how much she wished they didn’t. Johnny made sure that if she and Jordan got carried away, she had somewhere to recover after the storm. He was her shelter and the man who grounded her while passion whipped around them all.

  Wren was no blushing virgin. Still, she’d never experienced anything like what Jordan and Johnny could heap on her, fucking her all night long, refusing to stop until she had run out of orgasms and was too exhausted to try for more. She shifted in the chair, rubbing her thighs together as if that would help.

  She certainly hadn’t set out to have two men in her life. It had just happened that way. She’d met the partners, both special agents, who were so much more than coworkers. They were two halves of one sexy, tempting whole. Friends and both her lovers.

  And now she couldn’t imagine her love life any other way.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly true.

  She took another sip of her wine as she thought about the possessive desire she’d seen in Jordan’s eyes. Aimed not only at her, but also at Johnny. At first, she had thought she’d imagined it. Over time, his hunger had grown undeniable. At least to her. Johnny seemed oblivious to Jordan’s heated stares and how hard he got every time they accidentally touched while making love to her. Ignoring the truth any longer could cause a rift in their relationship. Wren wasn’t willing to risk losing the best thing she’d ever had over some dumbass misunderstanding.

  She had been close to broaching the subject or maybe facilitating something forbidden and naughty between the guys in bed, bringing the two men closer. Their triad didn’t yet feel perfect, or complete, with them paying all their attention to her and ignoring the bond between themselves. Right before she’d worked up the courage to press the issue, her men had been shipped off on this assignment without any warning at all.

  So she’d spent the few months apart practicing her speech. The one she intended to give when they returned, to hopefully bond them together as strongly as the chassis she’d welded for a specialty auto restoration shop—Hot Rods—earlier that day.

  Yes, you guys are partners at work, but you’re so much more than that here. You’re my best friends, my lovers, my whole world. And I want you to be as happy as I am every day that I get to spend with you. You need to be as honest as you’ve forced me to be about who I am and what I like. I think you owe that to yourselves.

  Hopefully that would be all it took to nudge them together. It would be so sexy to watch them make out with each other and to fuck the way she knew they wanted to deep down.

  Jordan would probably cave first. He’d wrap his hand around the back of Johnny’s neck and draw the man to him before devouring his lips in a frantic kiss. Eventually, they’d break apart panting, and Jordan would order Johnny to undress while he ripped his own clothes off. Soon he’d have Johnny bent over the nearest piece of furniture while he—

  A knock at the door startled her from her daydream. She cleared her throat and fanned her face a few times as she stood and straightened her jeans and ripped T-shirt. The knocking became a banging that kind of pissed her off. Who the fuck could be out there at this time of the evening? The mailman had delivered her supplies hours ago.

  Whoever was out there had nothing more important to tell her than how to be saved by their god or the cost of their cookies. Mmm…cookies. If she couldn’t have sex, she might as well have dessert.

  Wren strode for the entryway of her modest one-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. No, theirs. The guys had moved in a few days before they left on their assignment. It didn’t make sense to pay rent for two places when theirs would only sit empty.

  Besides, they’d been spending all their nights in her bed anyway. It had been another of many steps in the right direction as far as she was concerned. A smile stretched across her face at that thought. Wren was still grinning when she whipped open the door.

  Instead of a cute kid peddling snacks, she was met with two very serious men in uniform. Their mouths were set in grim slashes that had nothing in common with her rapidly fading smile. “Are you Ms. Wren Asbery?”

  She nodded.

  They say life can change in an instant.

  Wren’s shattered between one heartbeat and the next, when she learned that Johnny was never coming home.

  She didn’t hear the exact words. Not through the buzzing that had started in her brain, but she felt them. Direct impacts to her chest, every one. As surely as the bullets they told her Johnny had taken earlier that day.

  How could he be gone? How could she have not felt it the second his spirit left the world?

  He’d died, and she hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.

  It was already over. Done.

  The officers stayed long enough to make sure she understood and that she survived the initial shock. Then she was on her own. And would be from there on out. The more minutes passed, the more it hurt.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.” The officer or whoever the person was, she couldn’t remember, nodded then turned to go.

  “Wait…” she called out until he looked back over his shoulder with pity in his gaze. “What about Jordan? Is he okay? When is he coming home?”

  “Jordan?”

  “Special Agent Jordan Mikalski. Johnny’s partner.” She stood as straight as she could, her fists clenched, braced for the worst news possible—that she’d lost both of the men she loved at once.

  “Oh. Our records said…” The guy trailed off as he glanced at his partner, who shrugged.

  “I love them both.” Fuck anyone who had anything to say about that. Especially right then.

  “Agent Mikalski sustained minor physical injuries. He’s being debriefed. I would expect he’ll be home within the next twelve to twenty-four hours.”

  Wren deflated, air rushing from her lungs in a whoosh.

  Immediately, she felt guilty for her relief. Johnny had sacrificed everything for her, for Jordan, and for a better world. But at least she hadn’t lost them both. She never could have survived that.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she clutched the door and stepped backward into the shadows. She hoped the officers wouldn’t see the tears pouring down her cheeks faster and faster as the terrible news they’d told her began to sink in.

  “Do you want us to call some
one to be with you?” the agent asked.

  “Just Jordan. I need him. And…I think he’s going to need me.” Wren hated it that her voice cracked when she rasped, “Please.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as possible, Ms. Asbery.”

  Wren nodded, then shut the door, spinning around to lean her shoulders on it. There was no other way she could stay upright. Her lower back slammed into the fiberglass as her knees buckled and she slid down to the floor, sobbing.

  Agony only continued to grow as hour after hour passed, turning into days, and still there was no sign of her other lover.

  Dread sprouted from the dark nothingness of her grief.

  Just because Jordan was alive didn’t mean she hadn’t lost him in this tragedy, too.

  2

  Jordan had put it off as long as he could. There was nothing left to do but go home.

  And face Wren.

  It was easily the hardest thing he’d had to do in his life, including watching Johnny die in his arms. Because even though Johnny had accepted the inherent risks in his job and mercifully hardly realized a gunshot wound had clipped his carotid artery before bleeding out, Wren was going to have an entire lifetime to suffer.

  If she hurt even a fraction as bad as he did, it was going to be hell on earth. Pure torture.