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With the acheof a long day behind me, I turn onto my street, buzzing with anticipation. Orson came by the garage to pick up my house keys earlier, and I can’t wait to see what surprise he has in store for me.
Only when I pull up out the front, it isn’t my house that’s lit up and waiting; it’s my back shed. The roller door is open on one side, and the bright lights are spilling out into the darkening yard.
Interesting.
I climb out of Momma T into the cool air and make my way round back.
I’m completely unprepared for what’s waiting for me.
There, sitting in the middle of the garage, is a ’73 Ford Thunderbird. My jaw drops as my gaze slowly swings toward my boyfriend, who’s radiating a smugness I’ve never seen on him before.
It’shot.
I clear my throat. “What’s, uh … what’s this?”
“This—” He moves closer, running a hand up the battered T-Bird body. “—is our first baby. I thought we could work on her and name her together.”
“What?” I’m so excited I cross the distance between us and haul him off his feet and into my arms. “You gorgeous, clever—”
He cuts off a sound that’s half gasp and half moan.
I slowly set him back on solid ground. “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Orson …”
He drops his forehead onto my shoulder. “It’s a surprise.”
Curiosity well and truly piqued, I think I have an idea of what could have brought that sexy fucking sound out of him. My hand slowly roams down his back, over his ass, and my fingers run along the seam. They brush something hard under his pants.
“Tell me you’re not wearing a butt plug.” My voice comes out in a low growl.
He shoves me off him. “We have work to do.”
“Are you serious?”
He gestures to the car. “She’s not going to feel our love just sitting there.”
“You little tease.” My head drops back, and I send a silentdown, boyto my cock. It’s raring for some action. If Orson wants to play cars first, we’ll play, because I have a good feeling about where he’s taking this.
We spend the first little while taking stock of where the car is at, the parts it needs, the pieces we can salvage. Overall, the engine looks decent but could use some work; the chassis is solid, but the poor body is going to take a while.
It’s a good find.
But no matter how impressed I am by the car and how touched I am by Orson finding it, my attention keeps slipping back to him.
To his round ass as he leans into the passenger-side door, taking a look at the interior.
To the bounce of those delicious biceps when he props open the hood.
To the rippling flex of his abs as he lifts his shirt to scrub at the grease mark on his forehead.
He spends a long time on that grease mark. A long, long time.
I yank my gaze away from his V that I’m dying to run my tongue over and meet his eyes. The heat in them tells me all I need to know.
That sexy fucking tease is amping me up on purpose.
