AllRevvedUp
All Revved Up
Crystal Jordan
First in the Revved Up series.
There’s nothing Andi Manning doesn’t know about cars. Working at Kasen’s Kustom Automotive is a dream job, and it’s even more fun now that they’ve turned the garage into Revved Up, a reality television show for overhauling classic cars. Watching drop-dead gorgeous Dean Kasen work his magic on those sweet rides is no hardship, either. She’s lusted after him, but never had the courage to act on her scorching-hot fantasies.
The network offers Dean the chance for the local show to go national as long as a sexy bombshell helps host it. Andi is perfect for the role—if she’s willing to discard her coveralls and bend over engines in tight shorts, tank tops and heels. Now that she’s gone from cute coworker to sexpot, Dean can’t keep his hands off her. But he feels guilty for sleeping with an employee and Andi has to wonder…the only time they spend together is for sex, so is it her he wants, or just the revved-up goddess of the show?
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
All Revved Up
ISBN 9781419937057
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
All Revved Up Copyright © 2011 Crystal Jordan
Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky & Beverly Horne
Cover design by Syneca
Photography: Les Byerley
Electronic book publication November 2011
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All Revved Up
Crystal Jordan
Chapter One
Reno, Nevada
“No way in hell, Jesse.” Dean Kasen tossed a pencil down on his desk and glared at his cousin. “I went along with it when you wanted to turn the garage into a reality TV show, but—”
“And business has never been better, has it?” Arching a blond eyebrow, Jesse offered up an incredulous stare, as if he had no idea why Dean might be upset.
Dean growled, refusing to give an inch. This was his family’s legacy at stake, and he wasn’t about to let anyone screw that up, not even a member of his family. They owned equal shares of Kasen’s Kustom Automotive, so this wasn’t the first time they’d had to duke it out over disagreements on how the garage should be run. “Business is good, yeah. But that doesn’t mean—”
“They want to give Revved Up national syndication, Dean!” Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is a good thing, and you were into it until this morning.”
“That’s because until this morning, I didn’t know the network wanted to boost our ratings by letting some bim in a short skirt loose in my garage. I am not letting them turn this place into a joke. I’ve worked—we’ve worked—too damn hard to keep Kasen’s a reputable name to blow it now.”
Jesse threw his hands up in the air, and his chair squeaked as he flopped back. “Fine. You’re right.”
“I know I’m right.” Dean narrowed his eyes. His cousin had never given up on an argument that quickly in his entire life. There had to be a catch.
A charming grin flashed across the other man’s face, and Dean knew he was in trouble. Shit. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. What now?
Jesse’s grin grew to a broad smile. “I knew you’d get bent out of shape about this, so I already came up with a compromise I know you’ll agree to.”
Grunting, Dean picked up the pencil and tapped it on his desktop. “So? Let’s hear it if you’re that sure.”
“I can do better than that. I’ll show you.” Jesse heaved himself out of the chair and strode to the door, poking his head out to talk to someone Dean couldn’t see. “Hey, come on in and…uh, whoa!”
* * * * *
“No way in hell.”
Andi stared in horror at the full length-mirror before her. It had seemed like a good idea when Jesse mentioned being the new hostess for the national syndication of Revved Up. He said the network and the show’s new producer wanted to bring a woman onto the show, and he wanted someone who knew their way around cars. Andi fit the bill for both, and she would love to have a hand in planning the custom jobs. This was her chance to step up her game.
That was before she’d seen the wardrobe for her new role in the garage. She’d worked at Kasen’s Kustom for five years, and she loved what she did. Really loved it. It was fun and challenging to turn classic cars back into the cherry rides they’d once been while adding a few extra modernizations. She’d loved it even more when they’d turned the garage into a reality show. But she was a background player in all of it, and she wanted to show them what she could really do. Apparently, that meant she had to learn how to walk in high heels. Jesse had handed her off to the new producer, Lola Adams, who’d stuffed her into too-tight clothes, tugged her hair out of its usual ponytail, and pulled out the biggest make up kit Andi had ever seen. Now she just stared in the mirror at the streetwalker who used to be Andi Manning.
“No way in hell.” She stumbled back, holding out her hands as if to ward off her own reflection.
Lola tilted her head, her pale hair spilling over her shoulder. Her southern accent made her voice roll out as thick and sweet as molasses. “I think it works. You look sexy and that’s what we’re going for. I think it’ll bring in even more viewers now that we’re taking the show to the next level.”
Mouth gaping open, Andi couldn’t find the words to respond to that. The coveralls she was wearing were opened to the waist, and cut into tight shorts. The tank top underneath stretched across her breasts and dipped low enough to show a whole lot of cleavage. There wasn’t much left to the imagination. Her brown hair fell in smooth ripples to the middle of her back. All the makeup Lola had piled on Andi’s face somehow made her hazel eyes stand out and appear more gold than their usual brownish-green.
The woman in the mirror was no one she knew.
Spinning on her heel meant she damn near toppled over in the pointy stilettos, but she marched out of the bathroom and into the garage. A few of the guys let out low whistles and she gave them a glare that sent them scurrying to find work to do.
Jesse poked his blond head out of the office, his green eyes going wide for a moment before he caught her gaze. Whatever he said faltered as he sensed the waves of fury coming off her. He stumbled away from the door while she shoved her way in and slammed it behind her.
“What the hell is this, Jesse? Is this some kind of a jo
ke to you? Because I sure don’t appreciate you jerking me around.” Yeah, he was her boss. At the moment, she didn’t care. He’d had her tarted up like a hooker gone Hollywood. Considering they were in Nevada, where prostitution was legal, she’d rather no one was confused about whether she made her living on her back.
There was dead silence while both men in the room stared at her, their jaws sagging. She jammed her hands down on her hips. “What?”
Jesse recovered first, coughing into his fist. “Nothing. You just look different.”
“I look as if I work at the Mustang Ranch,” she shot back, naming the famous local whorehouse.
Dean snorted, a little smile curling his mouth. He sat at his desk, watching the scene unfold between his cousin and her, but then his gaze slid down her body and back up again. Slowly. An involuntary shiver went through her at the heat in his eyes. How many times had she wondered what it would be like for Dean Kasen to look at her in just that way? Her mouth went dry, but her nipples tightened, and she shivered again.
“Um…” Jesse said, brushing a hand through his golden hair.
The man looked like a fallen angel, blond and more gorgeous than anyone had a right to be. But his cousin was the devil to his angel. The only thing the two men had in common was their bright green eyes. Andi couldn’t take her gaze off Dean as he sprawled in his office chair, his hands folded behind his head. His muscular shoulders were impossibly wide, tapering to lean hips. His black hair was just a bit shaggy, his skin tanned. He had sex appeal coming out of his pores, and Andi’s body warmed the way it always did when she was around him.
“I think you look sexy.” His lids dropped to half-mast. “I think that’s what they were going for, right?”
There was something she’d definitely go for, and it included him using that low rumble on her. All night long. She quashed the thought as she always did. Dean was her boss, and until this very second, he’d never given her a second glance. Nope, that was her little fantasy, wasn’t it? She tugged at the bottom of her practically nonexistent top. “It’s really not my style at all.”
“I know it’s not, but the network is looking for a pretty woman to join the crew the viewers see. Our new producer thinks you’ll be great at it, and so do we.” Jesse jumped back into the conversation, as if he sensed her weakening. “Just give it a chance and see if you can get used to it. If not, we’ll find another solution.”
Another solution that probably meant she wouldn’t get a freer hand in helping design the overhauls. She didn’t care for that at all. Now that the opportunity had been put in front of her, she wanted it bad. Enough to dress like this? Doubt wavered within her. Could she really do this? On national television? Her friends would see her dressed this way. Her parents would see her dressed this way.
“We do think you’ll be good at this,” Dean said. “I think you’ll be good at this. You’re one of my best mechanics, and I’d love to see you more involved in the projects we do for the show, instead of the off-screen work.” Dean’s voice was smooth, warm honey sliding over her skin. His gaze stayed on her face as he spoke, letting her know he meant it, but that didn’t hide the heat that lingered in his expression. “Give it two weeks. If you still hate it, well then…” He trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished. But the way he looked at her made her insides melt. He looked as if he wanted to eat her up, maybe lick her from head to toe.
Passion wound through her at that thought, and her sex went hot and wet. Jesus, what she wouldn’t give to have him keep looking at her this way. But she could have that, couldn’t she? All she had to do was show up for work every day, let Lola do her thing with the makeup and wardrobe, and Andi would get the career bump she desperately wanted. Put in that light, it made it pretty simple, didn’t it? Still, a quiver passed through her, and she felt as if she were stepping off a cliff with no way of knowing how far she’d fall or how bad the landing would be. She pulled in a deep breath, logic and lust wrestling for dominance inside her.
She had no idea which one won out when she said, “Okay, I’ll give it the two weeks.”
Chapter Two
“This is a 1949 Volkswagen Beetle, which most of us just call a Bug,” Andi said. “Unfortunately, this car has seen better days. It’s spent a little too much time in the snow where they salt the roads, which has corroded and rusted out the undercarriage of the vehicle.” She opened up the driver’s side door and pointed to a spot on the floor where you could see right through the metal. She gestured to the rest of the interior and let the cameraman get his shot while she spoke. “We’re going to have to gut most of this little Bug and start from scratch. But let me show you something we won’t touch.”
Dean watched her in silence, mesmerized by how easily she poured on the charm. He’d seen her turn this on for recalcitrant customers, but never this full-blown. Jesse was right—she was perfect for this. He bit back a groan when she leaned forward slightly and her shorts stretched tight across her rounded ass.
The camera followed her to the rear of the vehicle where she gestured to the back window. “See how it’s actually split into two smaller windows? The Germans thought this looked like the two holes in a pretzel, so they nicknamed this model the ‘Pretzel Beetle.’ This is a feature that only appears in Bugs from 1946 to 1953. It hampered vision out of the rearview mirror, so it was replaced with the single window we’re all used to seeing. During the overhaul, we’re going to preserve this unique feature because it shows the true age of this classic.”
Lola’s Georgia accent sounded thicker than usual when she called from the sidelines. “Nicely done, Andi. Jesse said you’re going to be working with Dean to pull out the old engine. Are y’all ready to show us that?”
“Yep, we’re ready.”
He damn near groaned at the sight of Andi coming toward him. She was a walking wet dream in those cut off coveralls, unzipped to bare the creamy skin at her midriff. It went from warm in the garage to scorching hot in under ten seconds as she slid in beside him. She bent to help him finish detaching the motor so they could use the engine crane to lift it out. The rest of the crew started stripping down the car. They answered Lola’s questions as they worked, doing their best to ignore the camera and get the job done.
It was many hours later before they called a halt to shooting. The garage staff and film crew packed it up for the night and made beelines for the exit. Only a few stragglers remained when Dean leaned back against the side of the car and dragged his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face. He couldn’t remember it ever being this damn hot in the garage. Having Andi pressed against him for most of the day hadn’t helped in the least, but the close quarters of the small VW Bug made it impossible to put some space between them. Jesse had thought the challenge of the little classic would be fun. The producer thought having the show’s first female car owner would be a great way to introduce Andi as an added female to the regular crew. The owner wanted her car tricked out and had paid a lot of money for the chance to have the Kasens of Revved Up work on her ride. On television.
None of that had prepared Dean for the fact that he’d spend a lot of uncomfortable hours with a raging hard-on and the desire to drag Andi away from the cameras and get his hands all over her. Jesus, what was wrong with him? Sure, he’d wanted her since the day his father hired her. But he’d known he’d be the boss by the end of that same year when his dad retired, so putting the moves on a woman who worked for the auto shop was a bad idea. And Dean wasn’t one to go for bad ideas. He left the crazy schemes to his cousin.
Andi settled beside him, and her hip and arm brushed against his. She crossed her legs at the ankles, the barely-there coveralls riding up on her thighs. “So, how do you think it went? Did I do okay?”
“I think it went fine.” His voice was more clipped than he meant it to be, but every time she moved, she slid against him and his cock throbbed like a toothache. He’d never let himself be this close to her for this long. Somehow, he’d known exactly how tempting, ho
w dangerous she’d be to his self-restraint. The sweet, feminine smell of her, the throaty sound of her laugh, the way her smile lit up her entire face. Add that to the almost-outfit she was in and he was doomed. His hands shook with the need to touch that bare skin and see if it was just as soft as he’d always imagined. Clenching his fingers, he dragged his gaze away from her legs.
She put her hand on his arm. “Are you upset about something? You’ve seemed…off…most of the day.”
Fire streaked through him, radiating out from where she touched him. He couldn’t do this. There was no way his sanity would survive. He couldn’t have her this near and not break. As good as she might be for the show’s ratings, they were going to have to find a woman who didn’t drive him mad with lust. They both flinched when a door screeched open and one of the garage crew waved as he headed out. Dean straightened abruptly. “Andi, can I see you in my office?”
“Uh…sure.” Uncertainty flashed over her features, but she followed him.
The light, feminine scent of her filled his nostrils as she passed by to enter the office. He shut the door behind them. If there were any of the guys still here, he didn’t want them to overhear this.
“What’s wrong, Dean?” She planted her hands on her hips and met his gaze squarely.
That was his Andi—straightforward, no beating around the bush. Only she wasn’t his Andi and she never would be. The thought only served to make him angry. As turned-on as he was, anything that kept him from getting what he wanted pissed him off. He’d been resisting her for far too long, damn it. He hated that he had to.
Her eyes narrowed with temper, her chin tilted stubbornly, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Well? You had something to say to me, right?”