Page 4 of Mechanic Daddy's Girl
The kind that says she knew exactly what she was doing. Tempting fate and teasing the bull. Gotta hand it to her, I wouldn’t have the balls to make that move if I were in her position. However, it goes a long way in making my aching cock feel less shameful. It’s the reaction she was after, and buddy, she got all ten inches of it.
But where I would’ve loved to give her more than what she asked for, now isn’t the time. Just so happens the air-conditioner switch is right behind her, and I’ll have to get real close if she wants it on. Sure, it might not be my most well-thought-out ploy, but it beats my mind tripping over itself for something to say.
I lean over where she’s sitting to the nob and twist the dial. A machine roars to life before cold air instantly floods the room. But with my task complete, I find it almost impossible to pull away from this place, getting my first lungful of her intoxicating scent. A mixture of vanilla and coconut that tickles my nose and makes my mind implode.
Sure, it’s probably her shampoo, but Goddamn it’s satisfying.
Fuck. Get a hold of yourself, man.
My jaw clenches, and I swallow uncomfortably hard.
I can’t be having these thoughts. We shouldn’t be playing this game. As fun as it may be, one look is all it took to know she’s too young, pretty, and innocent for a monster like me. And still,that just makes me want her more. Like I’ll be getting a big bite of some juicy forbidden fruit.
I stay longer than I should, basking in the intimacy of being so close without either of us trying to touch, before finally breaking away, lungs burning like I’ve just run a marathon. Who am I deluding with the thoughts of not pursuing this? Wrong as it may be, it feels so right.
And who am I to stop myself from this detour of pleasure?
“Want me to show you the damage?” I ask, voice straining. Every inch of me is fighting to stay in control, but it’s a losing battle. Seeing a broken engine isn’t going to change anything about her situation, but it should buy me some time from these overbearing thoughts.
She nods and jumps to her feet, so close her breasts brush against my belly. Christ, her bra isn’t doing much to hide the sharp points of her nipples poking into me.
“Sure.” She slips past me, the naughty smile never leaving her face. A sign that everything she’s done and is doing is part of the plan.
She heads for the side door leading to my workshop as if she owns the place. Not that I’m complaining, it gives me a chance to look at her bare, milky legs sticking out of her tight jean shorts. Fuck, looking isn’t the word. I’m studying them. Burning every curve into my mind so I’ll never forget them.
“Watch your step,” I warn as she reaches the stairs into my shop. Though my tools are mostly scattered across tabletops and wall mounts, the floor’s a mess of oil stains and other leaks I haven’t bothered cleaning.
“I think I’ve got this.” She snaps her head in my direction, giggling playfully. “It’s not my first time walking, you know?”
Cute. Real fucking cute.
What does it say about me that Callie’s beating me at my own game? One-liner quips that leave me wanting her more and more.
Callie wanders deeper, and I finally follow after her. By the time I reach the door, she’s inspecting my tools like they’re some alien technology. Head snapping to every shiny object while her body sways with skipping steps.
I head over to her car and stand in front of the open hood, waiting. Watching. Thrilled by having someone so full of life in my workshop. Why rush her? It’s not like she’s going anywhere with a busted radiator. And the longer I keep her here, the better my chances will be of hooking her in.
“Oh shit, you’re waiting for me,” she says after a minute or so.
“Take your—” I’m cut off when her skipping foot collides with a puddle of oil.
I move before I can think. Dart to her side and catch her with a spin mid-fall, one hand wrapping around her tiny waist and the other sliding behind her neck. She lets out a panicked yelp as her palms slam into my chest, nails digging into my shirt as she clutches on for dear life.
I grunt, heart pounding in my chest, while staring deep into her wide blue eyes. Only now realizing that I’ve got her dipped back like we were dancing. So close I could kiss her. And everything on her face says she wants me to.
“Told you,” I say, trying to break the tension.
Callie chuckles and flicks her head to the side, her long blonde curls swaying beneath her. “How was I supposed to know there was a wet spot?”
“I bet it’s not the only one.”
Her eyes widen as red flushes over her otherwise pale features.
Huh, maybe I can flirt. It’s just not the sweet kind. Mine’s dirty, raw, and brutally honest.
And though her grip softens against my chest, balled fists replaced by flat palms, she shows no sign of wanting to pull away.
Just staring into my eyes, into my soul, with rosy cheeks.
