Page 63 of Detour

“What part?”

“The carburetor.”

This would be a great time to know something, anything, even a fun fact, about vehicles besides their make and model.

“Where’d it go?”

Coty finally looks at me, his eyebrows basically touching.

“It didn’t go anywhere. The original one was shit and should’ve been replaced a long time ago. I’m surprised it didn’t give you any problems.” Coty coughs, adding, “Sooner.”

Even though it’s killing me, I bite my tongue. I’d rather him think I have car trouble than boss trouble.

“If the carburetor’s still in there, then can I drive it until the part comes in?”

Coty unplugs his laptop, shaking his head. “We already stripped it. I can drive you to and from work. Or anywhere else you need to go.”

My hands clench between my legs. “That won’t work. I need my car back.” Now.

“Babe, the guys and I already talked about it, we’ll make it work. I’ll put our numbers in your phone and one of us can take you wherever you need to go. All you gotta do is text a time and place and someone will show. Don’t worry, we got you.”

The laptop forgotten, Coty saunters over to join me. Dropping to eye level, he places his knee between my legs, placing his hands on either side of me. His advance forces me to lie back and honestly, distraction never looked so good.

Inches above my body he breathes, “Damn, I’ve pictured you in my bed so many times.”

His fingers skirt along the skin peeking out from my shorts. Roused by the featherlight touch, I push my groin up making contact with his and he obliges by dropping his waist down to meet mine. Feeling him already rock hard makes my center throb with anticipation. With one hand holding up his torso, his other snakes around to my ass, gripping my thigh and arching it over his waist. Our groans loud and wanting, we kiss like it’s the first time all over again. With new areas to reach and less clothes to restrict, we explore using our hands until soon we’re both growing greedy for more.

His shirt is promptly removed and tossed across the room, giving me free reign to explore. Pulling away from my impatient hands, he lowers to my still exposed middle and nips just below my belly button. I arch off the bed simultaneously moaning in a voice foreign to my own ears. Just when I think he’s going to ask me to keep it down or leave he does it again, eliciting the same reaction.

“Coty,” I pant.

“Please don’t tell me to stop,” he grinds out against the top of my shorts, his erratic breathing penetrating the tight material.

“I wasn’t. I was going to tell you not to stop.”

“Fuck, babe. I’m-”

The obnoxious knocking on his door that sounds like “Old McDonald” at that exact moment interrupts Coty.

A muffled groan against my shorts, my still sensitive body hums as he sits up.

“What?”

“Movie time. Are you and Angie coming out?”

Coty swings his gaze to mine, apprehension plain as day.

I shake my head gently, picking up the laptop. Coty looks at the device like he’s about to throw it at Beckett. My hold on it tightens. “No, thanks.”

I wait for it to fire up while propping myself against the headboard.

Flopped onto his back, Coty huffs out a breath of frustration. You and me both, buddy.

“I knew we should’ve gone to your place. How the hell can you still have homework? I thought this was your last week.”

With his eyes shut, I admire his profile before answering. His dark hair, messy from our make-out session, matches his thick eyebrows. Lush eyelashes rest over those all-seeing chocolate eyes that frequent my dreams. High cheekbones and a strong jawline make his face almost too handsome, too perfect. Plump, supple lips above the slight indentation in his chin round out his nearly flawless complexion.

“It’s not for school. And, yeah, Thursday’s my last day.”