AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Weren’t you just saying you’re a grown up, though?”
“And? What does that have to do with anything?” I countered.
“Nothing, I guess. You’re just acting like a bashful kid listening to other people talk about sex.”
Oh, he did not.
“It was mostly because I didn’t like him,” I growled out, gripping the soggy label and condensation-slick bottle of beer in front of me. “After feeling that caterpillar on his lip tickle down to my boobs, I couldn’t imagine how unbearable tickly it would be on the insides of my thighs. Now, is that enough information for you?”
He went quiet, drawing his tongue over his lower lip as he stared at the bottle in my fisted hand.
“You’re right,” he ground out, “that was an inappropriate question. Sorry.”
Weirdly enough, his apology made me even more angry, because as inappropriate as it was, I wanted to see the way my words affected him. My eyes dipped to his lap, but it was obscured by the scratched up table.
“What about you?” I asked after another few moments of silence. “Did you go out with Angel yet?”
He huffed a laugh.
“Nah. She’s not my kind of girl. Besides, not every woman can handle beard burn between their legs. She doesn’t seem the type.”
Oh God.
I was. I was the type that savored that rough scratch of five o’clock shadow on the insides of my thighs. Wet, hot tongue and scratchy, short beard on my—
“I was about to ask what you were thinking,” he murmured, his face finally amused again, “but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”
I swallowed hard, then took another bite so I didn’t have to answer.
I couldn’t help myself though. Nope. The words spit out through my full mouth even though I tried to hold them back.
“I don’t know…beard burn isn’t so bad.”
He rubbed his cheek, perfectly grown out to give the most delicious beard burn, then he went back to his food and remained silent.
Hell, so did I.
We didn't talk again until we were done eating and ready to go back out and work on the car.
By the time we got back under the car and removed the clutch, the sun had disappeared behind the bowl of mountains around Vegas and we were left in the shadows of his shop lights.
“There’s not enough light,” I told him, squinting down at the clutch disk and that annoying as hell pilot bearing.
“Go on home,” he told me. “I’ll get the bearing out, and we’ll finish putting it back together tomorrow. If you want to.”
“I couldn’t leave a job half done,” I told him, almost offended that he’d think I would. “My daddy raised me better than that.”
“Alright. After work,” he told me, taking the disk back into his house where the lights were far better than in the garage.
I followed him in to pick up my skirt. And of course, he was right there, in his grease streaked jeans, leaning over the thing with his ass in the air.
I couldn’t fucking help myself.
After snatching up my skirt from the counter, I smacked his rear as hard as I could, then booked it for the open garage door.
The sound of him stumbling behind me put a pep in my step. I’d almost gotten back to my car when he practically tackled me to the trunk of my sedan and backhanded my ass so hard it stung.
“I told you,” he growled, then backed off me and turned to head in.
