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He hooks my leg over his shoulder while suckling two fingers, ensuring our gazes remain deadlocked. When he pushes them into me, I bow my back, my eyes rolling back into my head.
“Honey, I’m home,” he says before lowering his head and burying himself as deep as he can go.
For the next hour, Saxon gives me a glimpse of what I’m in for. If this is what living together entails, then sign me up and throw away the key.
I’m certain the cab driver knows of my and Saxon’s depravities. So do his neighbors. Back in Montana, due to our living arrangements, it made getting lost in the throes of passion a little hard. But here, we have no restrictions, no skeletons in the closest. And I intend on taking full advantage of that fact.
I am fully sated. My body glows from head to toe.
Saxon is giving me a rundown on what’s what, but honestly, I love it here already. His house is perfect. It may be a little smaller than what I’m used to, but I can see myself adapting with ease.
A relaxed ambiance bounces back and forth between Saxon and me, and I can’t help but think it’s because we’re far, far away from a place he never called home. When the driver turns into an industrial area, I know we’re close.
Saxon told me a man named Gus left him the garage when he passed away from cancer. I didn’t know him, but I wish I had because he sounded like a good man. “Just here on the right,” Saxon says. The cab driver pulls over while I arch upward to see where we are.
The faded sign which hangs from the metal building confirms I’m looking at the right place.
Gus’s Garage.
I can’t help but smile. Even though Saxon is the rightful owner, he still feels this place is Gus’s as much as it is his.
Saxon pays the fare while I thank the driver and follow Saxon out the door. It’s a lot milder here than it is in Montana. I did read Oregon is known for its crazy rain. We walk hand in hand toward the garage, a sense of pride in Saxon’s step.
The place is how I envisioned a garage to look. Cars, new and old, litter the yard. Three large work garages are up ahead, and to the left appears to be a small building. Maybe Saxon’s office? Mechanics in blue overalls bend under the hood of cars, tinkering away while listening to rock music. The atmosphere is chill, and I imagine having Saxon as a boss wouldn’t be such a bad deal.
A wolf whistle blares, which alerts the boys the boss is back in town. “Get back to work.” The three mechanics turn, all grinning when they see Saxon.
“Sax!” They put down their tools and make a mad dash to where we stand. “You’re back!” I quickly step off to the sidelines when they exchange oiled handshakes and manly slaps on the back.
“Did you boys miss me?” Saxon teases. They all laugh, never looking happier to see him. It’s clear they’re not only work colleagues but friends as well.
A younger man with a shaved head and a neck tattoo looks over at me and smirks. “And who do we have here?”
Saxon beams, extending his arm and pulling me to his side. “This…is Lucy.” I suddenly feel a little paranoid as I have no idea why he paused, but when they all light up with realization as if Saxon just introduced me as the good lord above, I shuffle my feet, beyond anxious.
“TheLucy?” the older man of the bunch asks. Saxon nods, fastening his hold. Okay, someone needs to tell me what is going on. “We thought you were made up, but holy shit, Saxon was right… you are…”
“Okay, enough, Felix.” Saxon presses his hand to the man’s chest, laughing. “She just got here. Don’t make her regret her decision.”
“No, no, let the man speak,” I counter, shrugging from his hold. “What am I?”
The man, whose name is apparently Felix, pales, peering over at Saxon sheepishly. “You forgot to mention spitfire in your list of attributes.”
“I’m pretty sure he said she was a pain in his ass, so I think that could be classified as a spitfire. Right, Saxon?” says the third mechanic, masking a smile. He has the name Hogan stitched on his overalls. Hogan is my new best friend.
I fold my arms slowly, peering up at Saxon while tapping my foot and waiting for him to explain. When he’s left with a mouth full of nothing, I can’t help but burst into laughter. Saxon’s shoulders instantly relax. “Gotcha.” I smile. “I’m flattered you’ve mentioned me to your friends, even though I’m an apparent pain in your ass.”
Hogan raises his hands in surrender, chuckling. “I like her.”
Saxon wraps an arm around my shoulders and drags me in for a kiss. “I like her too,” he huskily declares, shooting a current all the way to my toes.
Before we get lost in a kissing fest, the boys clear their throats, grabbing my attention.
“I’m Hogan. This is Felix. And that’s Kid.” I wave to each, pleased to make their acquaintance.
Kid, the younger of the three, extends his greasy hand. “I need to touch the woman who was able to make this hardass crack a smile.”
Even though oil covers his palms, I happily shake it. “Tell me more,” I quip very unbashfully. I can’t believe how easy it is to talk to these guys. Speaking of which…I will be able to get all the dirt on Saxon.
