Free Good Girl Gone Plaid by Shelli Stevens Page A

going away, boss. It’s Curt MacGregor.”
    There was embarrassment in the employee’s voice now. Oh yeah, he knew exactly what was going on. She would kill Ian later. Absolutely kill him. Or make him wish he were dead. At least once her body stopped trembling from the best orgasm ever.
    Crap .
    Floating back down to reality, she couldn’t stop asking herself what the hell had she just done?
     
    Curt MacGregor.
    Ian didn’t bother to stop the F-bomb that spilled from his lips. The name had the effect of a cold shower.
    Dammit, this was not how he wanted this little moment to end. Not with his finger playing Sarah’s clit like a guitar and his dick begging to be included in the action.
    “I need to deal with this.” Shuttering his expression, he moved away from her and pulled her dress back into place.
    “Give me two minutes and then show him in,” he bit out tersely to Jack, who waited outside his office.
    If Curt hadn’t showed up, there was no doubt Ian would’ve taken Sarah in his office—probably against the door. They’d been minutes away from it, tops.
    A quick glance at Sarah’s face showed that she’d come down from cloud orgasm and was plotting the quickest way out of there. She wouldn’t look at him as she busied herself fixing her scarf and dress.
    He clenched his jaw, trying not to think about how soft and sweet her breast had felt in his hand. His mouth. Because that sure wasn’t helping his hard-on right now.
    “Why don’t you wait out front,” he said as she reached for the door handle a moment later. “We need to talk.”
    “Oh, I think we’ve talked enough. Or, funny, but not talked.” She glared at him, her face flushed from embarrassment. Probably a little bit of remaining pleasure too.
    “Sarah—”
    “That was not just a kiss ,” she hissed, before scrambling out the door and slamming it shut behind her.
    Fuck.
    Irritation roared through him as he took a minute to compose himself in the bathroom in his office. When he came back out several minutes later, Curt was sprawled out on the couch.
    MacGregor looked like he always did. Short, stocky, bald, and with an ugly mug, he kind of gave off a pit bull vibe. And the man still had an apparent aversion to personal hygiene, Ian realized as he approached him.
    They’d met during Ian’s brief stint in prison. Their connection had come from the fact they were both in on assault charges, and Curt had saved his arse—literally—within those first few days of Ian arriving at the pen.
    They’d also bonded over both being Scottish. Though MacGregor had been in America since he was five and the States were all he’d ever really known. Ian’s family had moved when he was fifteen. He was at the point where nearly half his life had been spent in Scotland, and half in America.
    “MacGregor. How’s it going?” Ian offered his hand, which the other man immediately reached out and slap-shook in greeting.
    “It’s going good. Real fucking good. Your garage is looking all classy-like now. I guess you’re doing good too, huh, bro?”
    Bro. At one point, during his three months in prison, he’d considered this man like another brother. But once out of prison and they’d both gone their separate ways, things had started to change.
    Ian had made it a priority to get his life back on the right track. He couldn’t regret the choice that had put him behind bars, but he could sure as hell try and get back on the straight and narrow road.
    Curt, though, didn’t seem so inclined.
    “I’ve got some parts to sell you, if you’re interested.”
    It wasn’t even a question of being interested anymore. It had always just been an understanding that when Curt brought in car parts—some hard to find and expensive to order—Ian bought them. Under the table. No questions asked.
    When he’d first opened the garage, he’d been a nobody and struggling just to stay open. He’d taken the risk and hadn’t asked questions. But he’d had the garage