Page 91 of Tuned To Break
That undoes me more than anything else.
I curl my fingers into his chest. “You give me everything, Jake.”
“Only because you give it right back.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “You brought something to life in me too. Made it easy to stop pretending I didn’t want more.”
My throat thickens. “You mean that?”
He nods, jaw working as he holds my gaze. “Never wanted anything like I want you, Stell. Not just the sex—though,let’s be honest, it’s bloody incredible—but the rest of it too. Your smart mouth. Your ambition. The way you take no shit and still somehow make me feel like the luckiest bastard alive.”
“Jake…”
“I’m not great with fancy words. I’ll leave the poetry to your girl gang,” he says, half-grinning. “But I know what I feel. And it’s real. Big. A bit terrifying. But so fucking worth it.”
I press my forehead to his, smiling. “Terrifying, huh?”
“Terrifying,” he confirms. “I mean, have you met you? You can be scary sometimes. Especially when you're threatening to feed us to the pigs.”
I laugh. “And you’re infuriatingly sweet for a bloke with grease under his nails and a noose tattooed on his hand.”
“Batman’s kinky cousin, remember?”
“Exactly.” I shift closer. “My very own masked man.”
He wraps both arms around me, pulling me fully on top of him with a low groan. “Reckon I should wear the mask next time?”
“Only if you keep the dirty mouth to match.”
“Darl, that mouth is yours any way you want it.”
I kiss him slow and deep, letting it linger like a promise. And as we eventually drift into something softer—wrapped in sheets, limbs tangled, a movie humming low from the TV in the other room?—
I know this isn’t just love.
It’s home.
CHAPTER TWENTY
JAKE
The morning sun streams through the workshop’s skylights as I lean against my workbench, nursing my second coffee and watching Stella through her office window. She’s been at her desk for an hour already, completely absorbed in whatever spreadsheet she’s working on, her red hair catching the light each time she moves. Even from here I can see the little furrow between her eyebrows when she’s concentrating, and it makes me want to walk over and smooth it away with my thumb.
Fuck, I’ve got it bad. Three months officially together and I’m still besotted like a teenager with his first crush.
“Earth to Kinky Batman,” José calls from under the hood of a ‘68 Camaro, voice muffled by the engine bay. “You’re doing that creepy staring thing again.”
“It’s not creepy,” I defend, still looking at Stella. “It’s appreciative observation.”
“That’s a fancy way of saying creepy staring,” Asher points out as he walks past with a paint gun. “Seriously, mate, it’s like watching a nature doco. ‘Here we see the lovesick mechanic in his natural habitat, unable to look away from his mate.’”
“You lot are just jealous,” I reply, finally turning back to the engine rebuild I’m supposed to be working on.
“Jealous of what? The way you moon over her like a lost puppy?” Parker asks with a grin, not looking up from the electrical system he’s diagnosing.
“The way she’s got you completely whipped,” Chase chuckles, emerging from his office with a stack of work orders. “Remember when you used to be cool, Jake? Before you fell head over arse for our boss?”
“I’m still cool,” I protest weakly.
“Mate,” Robert says, lifting his welding mask and shaking his head, “yesterday you spent ten minutes describing the way she laughs to a customer who didn’t ask. That’s not cool. That’s whipped.”
