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Wrenched_A Small Town Mechanic Romance

Page 7

by Kara Hart


  You broke it off with him, I think to myself. Why are you starting to care again?

  Ultimately, I decide that I need a break from everything. If only it was just that easy. Starting over is harder than it looks, and I feel like I’ve moved in such a crazy direction. I came out here for a job, not to fall in love. My emotions are misleading me. Every choice I make turns me upside down.

  I close my eyes and I imagine the warm Los Angeles breeze smooth across my face. I can smell the ocean. I can even smell the pollution as it rises above the city of angels. I miss it all, even the craziness of Sunset Boulevard. Back home, I have people I know. Even though I’m sort of a homebody, I had friends back home.

  I grab my book again and try to read through the chapter. This time, I get through about ten pages, before I’m forced to put it down for the millionth time. Outside my window, I hear loud noises, like gunshots ricocheting in the near distance. I run over to the glass and look out, and of course I see Soren going crazy outside. “What in the ever-living fuck is happening?”

  I swing open my door and walk out, wearing only my robe and slippers. I stumble over to his yard and watch as he aims at several beer cans and fires a rifle. “Soren!” I finally yell, after he ignores me for minutes.

  “Welcome to the party.” He smiles and takes aim.

  “Put the damn gun down!” I scream. I look at my phone for the time. “It’s eight in the morning!”

  “No better time to start your day, right?” he laughs and fires the gun. The bottle breaks into a million little pieces. I jump back from the intensity of the sound.

  “Want to try it out?” he looks at me.

  Is he insane? Doesn’t he remember anything that happened last night? We broke it off. “No, I don’t want to shoot guns with you,” I tell him.

  “Well, then.” He puts the gun at his side. “Why are you over here then?”

  I make an exhausted sound. “I’m over here because you’re disturbing my work!” I yell, putting my hand to my face. I can’t believe this, right now.

  “Take a day off for once,” he smiles. “It’ll do you some good.”

  “You do realize that every time I’m over here, it’s me taking a break, right?” I ask him, hands on my waist.

  He doesn’t answer the rhetorical question. Instead, he aims the rifle at another bottle. This time, he misses. “Shit,” he sighs. “Oh, well.”

  “Are you even listening to me?” I ask him.

  He stops and looks at me, puts the gun down, and walks over to me. “Hey, you like the outfit?” He’s wearing this ridiculous ensemble, like he’s in that show Duck Dynasty or something.

  “Real great,” I give him the thumbs up and roll my eyes. “You like mine?” I ask him, looking down at my soft robe.

  “Real sexy, sweetheart.” He winks.

  “So, are you finished with the loud noises?” I ask him.

  “Are you finished?” He smiles and puts his hand on my arm. “Look, I just came here to blow off some steam. Is that a crime?”

  “Actually, it might be,” I laugh. “I don’t know if you’re allowed to shoot that thing anywhere you want. Do you even have a license for it?”

  “Look around you. We’re in the wilderness, darling,” he says. “Do you think I need a license for anything out here?”

  “Just stop, okay? Let me work in peace,” I say, turning around to go back in my house.

  “Take a couple shots,” he says. “It’ll do you some good.”

  “No thanks,” I mutter, looking at big hunk of a gun, resting on the table outside. “How many beers have you drank today?”

  “Just six,” he says. “Why? You want one?”

  “Will you give me some peace and quiet if I drink one with you?” I ask him.

  “I’ll give you some peace and quiet if you drink one and shoot this rifle,” he says.

  “Soren, you’re insufferable,” I mutter.

  “So you’ll do it?” He smiles big and runs over to his giant cooler. He grabs a cold beer and throws it my way.

  “Nothing like drinking right when you wake up,” I whisper, as a joke.

  “Truer words have not been spoken,” he laughs and opens another for himself. I take a sip and sit down in one of his lawn chairs.

  “See!” he exclaims. “There you go. You’re relaxing now. I wasn’t sure if it was possible.”

  “I should say the same thing about you,” I laugh. “You’re always so high strung about everything.”

  “Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I guess I’ve decided that there are bigger things to worry about. I’m over being a grump. Gotta live life, you know?”

  I nod my head. “Yeah, I guess so,” I say.

  I stare up at the sky, through the tree branches and ever-extending leaves. The whole world is connected in such a weird way. When you take some time out from your day and really look at the world, you have to wonder if it isn’t all planned out for you.

  “I have to admit. It’s really beautiful out here,” I say, sipping down my beer.

  He nods slowly. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?” he asks. “I used to come out here with Gabe, back when we were kids. It was like a jungle to me back then. Anything was possible. If we wanted a tree house, we’d just make one. Shit, I wonder if that one is still out there.”

  “We didn’t really have any of that kind of stuff in Los Angeles,” I say. “I mean, we had our adventures, but it was different. It was suburban.”

  “I was always jealous of people like you. Gabe and I both were. I mean, this city is fairly large, but it’s so different from California. California,” he says it out loud to himself, as if lost in thought. “I still haven’t ever been. I’ve only seen it in movies.”

  “You’d probably hate it,” I say. “At least, where I grew up.”

  “You go to Disneyland?” he asks me. “I’ve always wanted to go to Disneyland.”

  I burst out laughing. “You? At Disneyland?”

  “Have you ever been?” he asks.

  “Sure, I’ve been,” I laugh. “I’ve been tons of times.”

  “Is it… fun?” He raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of beer.

  “You’re weird,” I keep laughing, thinking about him in Disneyland with a pair of mouse ears on.

  He just shrugs. “Maybe you can take me someday,” he says. “It sounds nice.”

  I think about what Gabe said about their dad: “The cycle has stop sometime, right?”

  I start to realize that maybe why Harry told me to stay away was simply because they had it rough growing up. Harry probably had a stable family life. He probably didn’t understand seeing the strife. He most likely blamed it on them, when in reality, their parents handed that kind of life to them. I’m sure most of the town blamed them too.

  “Maybe someday.” I smile. “We can eat a churro.”

  “That’s nice. I like that picture.” He smiles and gets out of his chair. He grabs the rifle and hands it to me. “Alright, enough talk about nice things. Let’s shoot some bullets!”

  I grab the gun and sigh loudly, moving over to the edge of the back area. I take aim and he comes around behind me. “Hold your horses, now,” he says. “You have to be careful with these things.”

  “What? These things can hurt people?” I sarcastically say.

  He ignores my comment and wraps his hands around my waist. I feel the blood inside me slowly warm up my body. My cheeks feel heavy and clammy, and my throat goes instantly bone dry.

  “You’re too stiff,” he says, moving his hands up to my shoulders. “Loosen up.” He massages me a little and I start to feel somewhat calmer.

  “Alright, I’m going to do it. I’m going to shoot this damn bottle,” I say, lifting the rifle back up.

  “There you go,” he mutters. “Put your back like this.”

  His hands move me into place. I have the target lined up in my sights. I take a deep breath in, and exhale it back out. “You’re mine, bitch,” I whisper. Bang. The gun fires, knocking
my arm back. The bullet goes flying into a tree, high above the target. Even though I’ve missed completely, I feel proud of myself. I’ve never shot a gun before in my life!

  “Holy shit!” I scream. “I did it! I really did it!”

  “Haha! It’s fun, isn’t it?” He laughs. “Try it again if you’d like.”

  “Oh, I’m going to.”

  I’m determined. I take aim and remember how he told me to stand. Now, I can account for the blowback against my shoulder. I’m not as scared to pull the trigger now either. I look at the bottle and the barrel of my gun is staring straight at it. I pull the trigger and it happens so fast.

  First, I hear the bottle crash as the bullet makes contact with the outside. Then, I see the pieces laying around it and the smoke coming from the gun. I blink my eyes and look at Soren with my mouth hanging wide open.

  “There we go, darling,” he laughs. “You nailed it.”

  “I did it!” I set the gun down and run into his arms.

  He picks me up and before I know it, our lips pull into each other. I’m not thinking any longer. I’m just doing what my body tells me to do. One of his hands cradles the back of my head gently, while the other cups around the back of my thigh. It moves slowly and suggestively. His fingers touch the bare skin of my ass and he squeezes tight.

  I’m wet. I’m fucking wet, okay? Is that such a crime? No. All prohibition of Soren is on hold until further notice.

  “Come inside,” he tells me.

  “No,” I whisper. “We shouldn’t.”

  “Baby, I’ve been dreaming about you all fucking night,” he says. “You really want to quit right now?”

  I look back at my house down the road. I think about the work that I should be doing. I look back at Soren. He takes off his shirt, as if it’s the unveiling of a new car, or something unimaginable. My hands fall against his tight skin and I can feel his ripped muscles. They yearn to be felt.

  “No,” I whisper. “Of course not.”

  He grabs my hand and leads me inside the dark and shaded house. I find myself wandering into his room. I fall back against his bed and he slowly spreads my legs. I reach out and grab the belt from his pants. I undo it and rip the leather from the loops. I throw it around his body, as he takes off his pants.

  His big, strong body hovers over me. His thick cock is already harder than ever. He leans over and kisses me. His tongue feels good against mine. My whole body is buzzing. When he bites my lip, I know I need him now.

  Just one more night. One more night of fun is okay.

  Every feminine part of me is coming alive under the warm stature of his all-too-powerful body. He’s raw and he stirs up all my urges. He makes me want to stay away from him, yet his draw is too commanding.

  “You taste like strawberries,” he says, after pulling away from me. “Pure. Fresh. Handpicked strawberries.” He kisses me in between each word.

  My heart thunders hard as he slides his cock inside of me. My arms come around to the top of his ass. I can feel each muscle tense up and release, as he thrusts forward. He holds onto me like he’s claimed me, like he’ll never let go. He pumps hard and smooth, and he looks into my eyes the whole time, like he wants me to know who owns who.

  I run my hands over his tattoos and hold his hand close to my chest. He slides to fingers inside my mouth and I feel them enter the back of my throat. He pulls them back out and hooks them against my lips.

  My flesh. My mouth. Every single hole. They’re all for him now. He’s selfish, but he has more power than any man I’ve ever been with. His body is like a wrecking ball. Stone hard, and ready to destroy.

  “I want you to use me in every single way possible.” The words come out as a shrill whisper. I mean them, but I’m also nervous. I’m beginning to wonder what this is turning into. Is this a friendship with some pretty extreme benefits? Or is this turning into something serious?

  “Holy shit,” he mutters. He kisses my thigh and holds my shoulders down. He keeps me pressed against the mattress. I look down at the length of his cock. Fuck. As big as he is, I can see every inch disappearing inside of me, over and over again.

  I feel my cheeks turn hot to the touch. I wrap my hands around his back and dig my nails into his skin. He moans loud and animalistic, in that macho type of way that men do when they’re getting too close to pleasure. “Harder,” he groans.

  “Only if you give it to me first,” I reply.

  He doesn’t hold back. He begins fucking me harder than I’ve ever been fucked. With each new thrust, he pushes my legs closer and closer to my face. He uses my wetness to play with my clit, as he gives me every inch of his cock. He manhandles me like a fucking ragdoll.

  “How deep do you want me in this sweet pussy?” he asks me.

  “Stretch me,” I manage to whisper. “Hurt me.”

  I feel his hard hands around my neck. He forces himself inside me as deep as he can go. I feel his balls against my ass, hard and heavy. I grab his hand and force it tighter. “Are you sure you want this?” he whispers.

  I nod, turning red, though I can still breathe a little. I want it rough. I want it bad. I want the bad brother to fuck the life out of me, and I’m not going to feel guilty about it.

  “I said, harder,” I whisper.

  I feel his cock twitch and grow an inch. He’s holding himself back. He lets go of my neck and looks at me. “You have no idea how bad I just want to cum inside of you,” he whispers.

  “Then, do it,” I kiss him and he holds me close to his warm body. He slides his cock out a couple of inches and forces it back in.

  “Fuck,” he whispers. “You want to be all mine?” he asks.

  “Make me yours,” I tell him, licking his ear. “Claim me.”

  I let him do all of the work. I can’t move and I can barely think straight. My legs are still curled and my back is hiked up an inch from the bed. And though I’m not the most flexible woman on the planet, he makes me feel so fucking good, like he desires me more than anything in the world.

  When he’s alone, does he fantasize about me? Does he stroke his hard cock for me? I honestly believe he does, which turns me on more than his body, even more than his tattoos and mysterious demeanor.

  “Cum inside me,” I tell him. “Fill me up.”

  “God, you’re hot,” he moans and grabs a chunk of my hair, pulling me even closer to him. Our lips crush together and I feel myself getting closer to that edge as well.

  “Shit, you’re going to make me cum,” I moan, voice growing with intensity.

  He grabs my tits, still holding my hair in his hand. He fucks me like I deserve punishment for last night’s scene. He fucks me like a man should.

  “Here it is,” he manages to groan out. His muscles tense up and he holds me steady. I feel his cock twitch wildly, up and down, as it pumps out his thick cum in large streams. I feel it shoot inside me. He moans loud and deep, and forces his cock in deeper, still going.

  I feel dominated. I feel owned. And I’m fully into it. As he pushes in deeper, I feel something click inside my body. The pleasure begins to rise, and I’m soon cumming with him, quaking from the pleasure of his fuck. My stomach convulses and my eyes slam wide open.

  He kisses me as we fade out into calm shores. “You still hate me?” he asks.

  “No,” I laugh. “As long as you fuck me like that every time, I think we’ll be good.”

  “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be ready to go again.” He smiles.

  I still don’t know what we are, but I’m not about to give up, right when things start to make sense. There’s still a week left until I start my job and I need all the fun I can get.

  Soren

  “Why’d you come back here?” I ask her when the night begins to fall. “Because last night you wanted to end things.”

  “I don’t know,” she whispers. “I was kind of angry with you.”

  “Kind of? You were pissed. You screamed at me, Emma,” I reason. “I know I haven’t been honest
about every single aspect of my life, but we’re not exactly dating or anything.”

  “I know. I know,” she admits. “I was being dumb. I’ll admit it. It’s just that… Oh, I don’t know.”

  “It’s just that I’m not the kind of guy you pictured yourself with,” I finish her sentence and she looks down, embarrassed. “It’s fine,” I say.

  “Look, I keep coming back here because we understand each other,” she says. “Or, at least, I think we do. You lost your father at a young age. I know what that’s like. My father… he died of cancer when I was a little girl.”

  I nod, but something is eating at me. That’s not why she stayed. Because we have a connection? Please. We’re complete opposite each other on the spectrum of human behavior. Sure, she likes to get dirty, but is she ready for the kind of man I am? I mean, really ready?

  “I’m a monster,” I finally mutter. “You don’t want to stick with a guy like me.”

  “A monster? No, you’re not Soren,” she says, but she can barely make eye contact with me now. She knows it. She knows I’m bad fucking news. No, I’m not the guy who beats his wife. I’m not the guy who goes out and commits crimes. But I am the kind of guy who brings a storm with him. Bad luck. All the bullshit you don’t want near you. That’s me.

  She smiles for a second, but my face turns dark. “I am a monster. I’m everything your mother told you to stay away from,” I say. “Normally, I try and stay away from women like you, but you’ve been sweet to me, even when you should stay away.”

  “What’re you saying, Soren?” she asks, starting to worry.

  “I’m saying I know what I want. I want you,” I say. “But I don’t think you know what you want.”

  There’s an unusual sensation in my stomach. It’s one of excitement and regret. I don’t know what the right choice to make is, but I do know that we’re in this now. No matter what, I’m connected to this woman, for better or for worse. I just don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want what happened in Buffalo to come back to her somehow. Lucky for us, it’s taken long enough to find me. Maybe they’re content with taking my store. Maybe they’re over things.

 

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