by Evelyn Glass
“I guess we both got a second chance,” Dix said and smiled at James.
James pushed back from the table. “Speaking of second chances, that car isn’t fixing itself.”
“I’ll clean this mess up,” she said, knowing she’d be no use to them in the garage.
***
She checked on the progress of her car several times over the next four hours. Each time she walked into the garage, the car had changed as Dix and James cut and ground and welded. At first she couldn’t tell what they were doing until she had a chance to peek inside, swallowing hard at the fact she could see right through the bottom of the car.
She was fixing coffee for the men when she heard the distinctive sounds of an air-cooled Volkswagen pull out in front of James’s house. She opened the door and her car was there. At six this morning it had been a faded powder blue. Now the roof was the same blue, while the two rear fenders were a different blue, and though they were close, they obviously weren’t the same color as the rest of the car, whatever color that was.
The car looked like it has been inside a paint factory when it exploded. One door was yellow, as was one of the front fenders, but not on the same side as the door. The other door was red, and it matched the engine cover, while the trunk and other front fender were white. Mixed in with it all were splotches of black that looked like they came out of spray can. While the car might look like a crazy quilt of colors, she noticed immediately the rust holes and bent body panels were missing.
Dix, sitting the driver’s seat raced the engine. “Want to go for a ride?” he called as he stuck his head out the window, racing the engine again.
With a laugh she hurried down the two steps and jumped into the passenger seat.
“Buckle up,” he said as he banged the car into reverse and raced backwards before slamming on the brakes. He jammed the car into first, raced the engine, and dumped the clutch, throwing them backwards as the little car scrabbled for traction on the hard packed gravel. They went racing down a line of cars before sliding around a corner as she shrieked in excitement and fear, holding onto the dash and door handle for dear life.
He slid it around another corner, her little car roaring merrily as they picked up speed down another wide aisle. Never had her car pulled so hard or smoothly, or stopped so straight as he slammed on the brakes again and spun the wheel to the right, before they were rocketing away again.
He grinned as Daisy shrieked again, laughing hysterically as her car belted along. The Beetle was abysmally slow compared to what he was used to, but probably felt ridiculously fast considering it barely ran before…assuming she could get it started.
They skidded around the line of cars, and Dix buried the throttle, eking out every bit of speed the Bug could give him as they raced back to James’s house. When they slid to a stop, she couldn’t stop laughing.
“What were you doing to her out there?” James asked as they climbed out of the car. “I could hear her screaming all the way over here.”
She ran to James, throwing herself into his arms. He was covered in grease, and smelled of sweat and gasoline, but she didn’t care. “Thank you! Thank you so very much!” she exclaimed, holding him tight.
“It’s okay, Daisy,” he said softly, his arms going around her. “Dix and I haven’t worked in the shop together in a long time. I enjoyed doing it.”
She pulled back and kissed him on the cheek. “I think you are a wonderful man,” she whispered softly before letting him go.
She then turned her attention to Dix. As she approached, he dropped the keys into her hand. “It needs paint, but most of the rust is gone. The tires are worn out and should be replaced, but we couldn’t do anything about that, and we forgot new wiper blades. But it will start the first time, every time, and it stops without trying to jump into the ditch. Oh, and it drives straight now, too, and the heat even works.”
As he went down the litany of improvements, tears began to roll down her cheek before she melted into him and put her arms around him.
“I’m dirty.”
“I don’t care,” she said softly.
As his arms went around her and drew her in tight, she began to weep, her shoulders shaking as all the pain and frustration with her life poured out of her. Dix was so kind and thoughtful, willing to help her find Riley, and repair her car, and feed and shelter her, and asked for nothing in return. She could never repay his generosity, and the guilt of him giving so much and asking for nothing made her weep even harder.
“Shhh…” he whispered as she sobbed quietly. “It’s okay.”
“Thank you,” she gasped, trying to stop her tears.
“You’re welcome.”
She finally got control of herself and stepped back. “I’m going to need lessons on how to drive it.”
He rolled his eyes dramatically, as if she were asking for the world, but then smiled. “I figured. We’ll leave it here tonight and you can practice tomorrow. I’ll take you back in the truck, then pick you up again in the morning. But first,” he said as he turned toward his trailer, “I need a bath. I smell like a goat.”
James watched as Daisy waffled about what to do, so he decided to give her a nudge. “I need one of those, too, then I’m going to bed. I’m too damned old to be working this hard.”
She hurried to James. “Thank you. I can never repay you for what you’ve done for me,” she whispered as she hugged him again. “I think Dix is lucky to know you, and I’m glad I’ve had the chance to meet you.” She kissed him softly on the cheek again then smiled at him. “Sleep well, James.”
He smiled back at her and gave her a soft pat on the cheek. “Thank you for saying that.”
She hurried to join Dix. “I like James a lot.”
He smiled. “He’s great.”
“He told me about you and your family.”
“Yeah,” he said as he looked down and started for his trailer. “He was there when I needed him and has never let me down.”
“He loves you, you know.”
That made him smile. “Yeah, well, guys aren’t supposed to talk about stuff like that…but I love him like he was my own dad. He is my dad.”
She nodded as she followed him along the path to his trailer.
***
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When James said Dix lived in a trailer, she didn’t know he meant a camper. He opened the door and ushered her in. Her parent’s house was maybe fifteen hundred square feet, and the apartment she and Leo lived in was perhaps nine hundred, but both those were palatial compared to Dix’s trailer. No wonder he didn’t cook or eat at home.
The front two-thirds of the trailer was one room composed of a seating area and kitchen. There was a wall that formed a short hall, then another room with a bed visible, and that was it. No television, no computer, no nothing. Unlike James’s cluttered house, Dix’s trailer was sparse without any personal touches. The only thing that seemed out of place was a thick book lying on the couch.
“It’s not much, but it’s home. Want a beer?”
“Thank you, no.”
“I’m going to grab a shower, then I’ll take you back to the motel. James will kill me if I get the inside of his truck greasy,” he said as he moved down the hall then turning into the bath. “Make yourself at home!” he called as the water started.
She looked around then flopped onto the couch and picked up the book from the Douglas Public Library. She frowned, then flipped through the book. It was an in-depth look into the design and construction of the Roman Aqueduct system. She scanned a few pages, but this was no grade school primer, the book full of technical discussions about the hydraulics involved in moving large amounts of water over vast distances. With no television or computer, this was obviously Dix’s preferred method of entertainment.
She heard the water stop, and watched as he stepped into the hall then his bedroom completely naked and totally unself-conscious. She only got a peek at his manhood before he turned away, but his ass and b
ack were well-muscled and defined.
She was still watching when he stepped back into the hall, wearing pants but no shirt. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly going dry. He was no body-builder, but he was well muscled in the way of a man who was used to hard work. He ran his fingers though his hair as he stopped at the small refrigerator and pulled out a beer.
“You sure you don’t want one?” he asked offering her a bottle.
“May I have a sip of yours?”
He smiled and twisted the cap off, offering her the bottle as he sat down. “Oof,” he grunted. “I’m beat. Give me a minute then I’ll take you back to the motel.”
She took a swallow of beer then handed him the bottle. He accepted the bottle then took a generous pull from it before sitting it on the counter.
“You’re reading this?” she asked, holding the book up.
“Yeah. I love reading that stuff, how the during the Italian Renaissance, and the Roman’s, Greeks and Persians before them, built these massive structures before modern technology. It boggles my mind. What?” he asked as she continued to look at him.
“You aren’t like any biker I’ve known.”
“Why? Because I read a book?”
“Not reading a book, but reading this book. And you seem to care about something other than yourself and your club.”
“I care about the Cutthroats,” he protested.
“But you don’t care only about the Cutthroats. I can’t imagine Leo, or anyone from the Firechrome, doing any of the things you have done over the last couple of days.”
“I’m not Leo, and the Cutthroats are not the Firechrome,” he said firmly.
“No…no you’re not,” she said as she leaned in slightly.
She looked at him, her face tilted up, her lips slightly agape, inviting him to kiss her. He brought his lips to hers and kissed her slowly. She rose up slightly, breathing hard as she leaned in, her hands going to his face.
She pulled back from him and began to unbutton her shirt before he took her hands and stilled them. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, his hands still holding hers.
“I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
She paused as she thought about it. “Yes,” she finally said softly. When he released her hands, she finished unbuttoning her shirt then unzipped his pants. He was already hard as she tugged his manhood out. She was bending to take him into her mouth when he stopped her.
“What?” she asked confused.
“Wait, not like this.” He rose to his feet, beer forgotten, and pulled her slowly to her feet. She began to crouch, but he pulled her up again. “Slow down,” he whispered.
“Don’t you want me to blow you?”
He felt ridiculous standing there with his cock hanging out, so he tucked himself away before slowly pulling her to his bedroom. The moment he turned to face her again, she began pulling at his pants. He allowed her to open them, but when she moved to crouch again, he again pulled her up again and into a kiss. She responded by kissing him savagely as her hand slithered into his pants and began to stroke his cock.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as he pulled her hand away again. “Don’t you want me?”
“Not like this.” Her vibe was all wrong, as if she were going through a script or performing a part for him.
She pulled back and looked at him, then looked down. “I’m sorry. I should go.” She began to turn away.
“Stay,” he said as he took her arm and turned her back to face him.
“I don’t know what you want.”
“I want you.”
“I…but…I tried to blow you, and give you a handy, but…isn’t that what you want? I don’t know what you expect!”
“No,” he said softly, pulling her back to him. “I want you, the real you, not this you, not the you where you think you have to do what I want or is expected. I want the you I kissed in front of the motel room last night.” He tipped her face up and kissed her softly.
She allowed him to kiss her but she didn’t know how to respond or what he wanted from her.
“Relax,” he said softly as he pulled back, his lips close to hers. “Let yourself go. Forget about what I want, give me what you want.”
She felt his breath on her lips as she stood, unsure of what to do. After a moment she pulled his lips to hers and kissed him slowly, her lips parting as she invited his tongue into her mouth. He responded, his kiss so warm and gentle, his hands coming to her face, holding her into the kiss but allowing her to set the pace and tone. She could feel desires, long buried, coming to life. She wanted more, his warm and gentle hands encouraging to let go, to let her passions soar. She leaned into it, not because he expected it but because she wanted it. A fervor she thought long extinguished roared to life. He held her face, making her feel wanted and desired, but secure in the knowledge she could easily pull away. As they kissed, slow and gentle, she didn’t want to pull away, she wanted more.
She broke away with a slow gasp as she pulled back and smiled at him. “This is the Daisy I want,” he whispered, his lips going to her neck as he slid the shirt from her shoulder. She reached for her pants, but he slowly pushed her hands away. “No…” he whispered into her neck. “I want to undress you.”
He gently steered her to the bed then spent the next twenty minutes exploring her body with his lips and fingertips as he slowly undressed her, caressing her in a way no man ever had. She was burning in desire, his fingers and lips traveling over her leaving behind a crackling erotic energy that made her feel alive in a way she’d never felt before.
“Please. I want to feel you next to me,” she breathed as she tugged at his pants again. She’d tried twice before to get him out of his pants, but he’d refused and pushed her hands gently away. This time he complied and removed his pants and underwear before settling onto the bed with her. As he did, she turned and pushed him to his back before she draped herself over him, not because it was expected, but because she wanted to please him, wanted him in her mouth so she could make him groan.
He pulled her legs over his head as she settled over him, pulling her down as he began to lick and kiss, his tongue flicking into her before pressing firmly in against her swollen button.
She liked how he pulled her firmly down, his arms wrapped around her hips as if to prevent her escape, making her feel desired in a way she hadn’t in a very long time.
Dix groaned softly as Daisy tormented him in the most delightful way possible. The girl had skills, that much was certain, and he focused on the task at hand, focusing on pleasing her to stand against the onslaught of pleasure as long as possible.
She could feel a tingling begin, as if millions of tiny shocks were lighting her up as they danced across her body, her muscles coiling up like springs, the tingles becoming more pronounced as they twisted her tight. She felt hot, burning from the inside, melting and exploding at the same time as she burned in erotic agony. As Dix’s tongue danced, she pulled him from her mouth, unable to breathe, unable to think, only feeling, everything forgotten except this moment, this one perfect tick in time. She groaned as her orgasm slammed into her, rolling over her and burying her in pleasure more profound than any she’d experienced before.
Her deep moan as she shuddered made him smile as he held her to his face and slowly massaged her clit with his tongue. She began to buck and jerk, gasping and whimpering, but he held her, his mouth busy until her twists and lunges became frantic and he let her go.
He finally released her and she pulled away, mewling softly as her orgasm washed out of her, leaving her feeling weak and out of sorts. She laid still wanting to cry but not knowing why as his lips found hers.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered as he pulled back, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she whispered in reply. “I came.”
“I know,” he chuckled, kissing her again.
She sniffed, the tears coming harder now, and she was unable to stop them. �
��I’ve never had an orgasm before.”
“Never?” he asked softly, kissing away the tears.
“No, I don’t think so.” She sniffed, finally gaining control of her reeling emotions. “Not like that.”