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“Did you bring clothes to change into this time?” he hollered, already out of the car and slamming the door shut.
I scurried after him, grateful for a pantsuit today instead of the pencil skirt.
“No. Can I borrow something again?”
“How much fucking clothes do you think I own?” he asked, though he didn’t sound annoyed like his words would’ve suggested. “Can’t have you wrecking your cute little outfit though. Not when you’re doing me a favor.”
He led the way to his bedroom again after unlocking the house door from the garage, and I followed, taking off my heels as I did.
“Exactly how much clothes do you need?” he asked, digging through the dresser.
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked with a laugh.
“Well, I’ve got this,” he said, holding up a t-shirt that would’ve swamped me.
“Great, but what about bottoms?”
He shrugged.
“I’ve got jeans that won’t fit you, and you’ve got my only pair of grease-stained sweats already.”
“Shit,” I complained, taking the shirt and slipping it over my head before I did the sneaky little unlatch and wiggle to get off my slacks, all under that oversized t-shirt. “Do you at least have a belt I can borrow?”
He nodded and moved his hands to his own waist, slicking the web belt from his Levi belt loops with a soft thup-thup-thup-thup before dropping to his knees in front of me. My heart was thudding again in my chest with just how damn close his face was to the juncture of my thighs, but he didn’t seem to mind. The guy reached around me, nose in my belly button for just a second before he slid the metal tip of the belt through the buckle and zipped it up until the t-shirt was secured down at the waist.
“There,” he murmured as he got back on his feet.
Was it just me, or was his voice thicker than normal? Thickened with lust?
God, a girl could dream.
All I needed him to do was bend me over and smack my ass all over again, then I'd beg him to kiss it better.
Mind back in this realm of reality, Freya.
He motioned me out of the room as I followed, walking like a crazy person behind him, trying to air out my wet panties where he couldn’t see.
“I didn’t get anything else done last night other than switching out the pilot bearing,” he said over his shoulder. “So we just got to get the transmission back in and everything in place. After that, it should start and run like a dream.”
“What’re you going to do with the interior?” I asked, forcing myself to move on from the intense moment in his bedroom not even a minute earlier.
To be fair, it was probably only intense to me.
“I’m not sure yet.” He waved his hand noncommittally. “I like the blue interior, and I’m thinking about re-doing the baby blue with silver stripes on the exterior. What do you think?”
Stepping through the garage door, the light burst on and I saw the sad but pretty blue paint job that was currently on the car.
“That’s going to be hot,” I agreed, imagining sky blue covering every panel with metallic silver stripes going down the hood, top and trunk. “In that case, you have to keep the interior how it is. Maybe white leather on the seats though? Could you imagine?”
He blew a whistle and opened the door, looking inside.
“Oh yeah, sexy,” he agreed. “Might get them filthy with all my greasy work clothes though.”
I considered it while he dropped to the ground on top of our cardboard mats and slid underneath the car.
“Hey, hand me the shaft, would you?”
I choked again on my spit as the unwelcome image of gripping a certain shaft blew through my mind.
