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“Did you always want to be a musician?” I ask.

He shrugs, not looking up. “Yes and no. I was good at it, so it seemed a shame to waste an opportunity.”

“But you’re good at fixing cars, too,” I point out.

“Why don’t you wait till I fix this before you make that assumption?” he suggests, the dimple in his cheek deepening with his smile. “I might fuck it up even more. And I’m good at a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean I want to make a career out of them.” He lifts his eyes off the car, long enough to meet mine.

“What about after your music career is over? Do you have a backup in mind?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” he comments, glancing at me over his shoulder, his mouth twitching into a smirk. “How about we talk about what your good at instead? I’m not the only one who’s good with their hands.”

I know exactly what he’s referring to from the way he’s looking at me. I don’t trust myself to answer, so I just shrug. I’ve been avoiding a lot of his questions today, for fear of landing myself in a situation I can’t take back.

“You don’t want to tell me?” he teases. “That’s okay, Maybe I’ll just find out for myself.”

“Really, and how will you do that?”

It’s the exact kind of comment I’ve been trying to avoid making, because one look at that smirk and I know I’m in all sorts of trouble. He drops the wrench he’s holding and straightens up, walking over to me.

Every step he takes sends a new surge of anticipating jolting through me. I swallow, accepting his hand when he holds it out for me. He pulls me to my feet, sending me tumbling into his arms. His lips twist up into a smirk, like that was his plan all along.

“Are you good at kissing?” he whispers, his lips dangerously close to mine. My knees weaken. Thank God he’s still holding me or I’d be a crumpled up mess on the ground.

He slowly backs me across the garage, until we’re inside the office. He sits me down on the desk, using one hand to clear some space. With him standing between my legs, he kisses my neck, while my hands slide through his soft hair. My heart pounds as he looks into my eyes, his hands moving up to stroke my neck. I shiver, a groan escaping my lips as he kisses me.

After a few moments, he pulls back.

“You’re very good at kissing,” he acknowledges, his tongue curling around mine.

I press my mouth onto his as our lips roll together as one. My heart flutters, stirring up every emotion possible inside me, sending my body into a frenzy. With a rush of confidence, I reach forward and unbuckle his belt.

“What are you doing?” he murmurs.

“What do you think I’m doing?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow.

I wrap my legs around him, I rock my hips back and forth, gently grinding against his hardness, then I reach inside his boxers and wrap my hand around his shaft. He grunts, then pulls away, just enough to look me in the eye, a playful smile on his lips.

“The sparks flying off you are in danger of burning this place to the ground,” he whispers in my ear.

I burst out laughing. “Your talent is wasted here. Hey, you should go into song writing,” I tease.

“Funny.” He grumbles. He tries to look annoyed, but his eyes give away his amusement. “You really know how to kick a guy when he’s down.”

Laughing, I kiss him, and slide my fingers around his cock, teasing him by slowly sliding my fist along his shaft. He kisses me, his mouth rough against mine, like he can't get enough of me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, pulling away just enough to gaze into my eyes. “I could stare at you all night.”

I clutch the hem of my shirt and lift it over my head, dropping it to the floor. Our lips connect as he slides a hand behind my back and expertly unclips my bra. His gaze sweeps over my body, then he nods appreciatively. I smile as he touches my nipples, rolling them between his fingers. His lips touch my neck, while I gently caress his head, driving my nails through his hair. He moans in appreciation, then rocks me forward, using his other hand to sweep the rest of the desk clean.

I cry out, giggling when he abruptly lays me back on the desk.

“A little warning would’ve been nice,” I say.

“Sorry about that. I always thought women liked to be surprised,” he murmurs. He slides his hands along my thighs, hitching up my skirt, while he kisses down my shoulder. I slide myself back a little more, groaning as he touches the inner most part of my thighs. His fingers are dangerously close to entering me, and just thinking about it nearly has me orgasming.

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