by Angel Steel
Laughing. “They all love your work, Lia. It still shocks them what a woman can do.”
Crossing my arms over my chest. “Really? Bit sexist much.” All the men at the shop know me. If it isn’t from working here nearly every day, it’s from seeing them all at my dad’s house.
“I could do anything in this shop. Both you and I know that.”
My dad stands from his chair and walks across to where I stand. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “I know, baby girl, but I prefer you in the booth than out front. Don’t want all the men looking at my little girl.”
Slapping him on the chest. “I’m not little anymore, Dad. I know how to protect myself. You did teach me that much.”
“I know. I’ll kill anyone that hurts you, sweetheart.”
Grinning, I lean up and kiss him on the cheek. “And that’s why I love you, Dad.” Shifting to the door, I open it, leaving it like that and begin to walk off toward my booth.
“Don’t forget I have two new guys coming in today,” he yells out behind me.
I wave my hand toward him as I continue forward. How could I forget when he’s been constantly reminding me every day for the last week? It isn’t like I haven’t dealt with anyone new. Closing the booth door, I quickly strip out of my top and pull on my flannel and tie it to the side. Grabbing my apron and placing it on, I start getting all my things together for what I need to do.
I’ve just finished the base coat when the doors open to the booth. Turning around, Max stands there leaning against the door, his eyes attached to my ass. “Max, it isn’t going to happen,” I mumble.
“Aww, come on, Lia. It’s just one date,” he says as he steps into the room. Dropping my spray gun on the bench, I rip the apron from my body and shift toward the door. “I don’t date workmates.” I push past him and make my way to the sink and begin washing my hands. Scrubbing my two-tone hands as best I can and rinsing, I then grab a bunch of paper towel to dry them while following his movements as he strolls across to me.
“Technically we aren’t workmates, Lia. We’ve known each other for the past fifteen years,” he says as his hand comes up and runs his thumb across my cheek.
Throwing my crumpled up paper towel into the bin. “Wonder how Chopper will act when I tell him that you want to date me? Then possibly after that date, you would want to take me back to your house and sleep with his daughter?”
His face pales at the mention of my dad’s name. Laughing. “Yeah, you never thought that one through did ya? You know how it would end up, Max? And I prefer you to be alive than buried six foot under.” I slap him on the arm and walk away from his still body while he continues to stand there.
Making my way toward the front of the shop, I notice Lexie sitting at the front counter, flicking through a motorcycle magazine. Grabbing a drink from the fridge and tiptoeing up to her I slam one down right in front of her causing her to jump.
“Shit, Lia!” Lexie yells. Her chair falls back with her still in it. Reaching out, I stop it from toppling over and I can’t contain the laughter that bursts from my mouth. Steadying herself and frowning as I lean over and continue to laugh.
“Real fucking nice, Lia. Great friend you are,” Lexie grumbles.
Holding my side. “Sorry, you left yourself wide open for that, Lex.” Once I’d laughed enough that my sides couldn’t handle any more, I side up to her and wrap my arm around her shoulder pulling her into my side. “You know I love you, Lex,” I tell her and kiss her on the top of her head. My lips were still on her hair when the front door dings letting us know someone had walked in.
“I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
My head shoots up and look toward the front door. A guy stands there with his hand over his crotch, rearranging himself right in front of us. Disgusted, patting Lexie on the shoulder, I shift over to the cash register. Plastering a fake smile. “Welcome to Satonic Customs. How can I help you?”
The guy glides up and stops in front of me. His eyes lingering over my breasts far longer than normal. “My eyes are up here,” I tell him as nicely as possible.
“I know that sweetheart. I’m enjoying the view in front of me.” He laughs.
Shaking my head. “What can I do for you?” I ask again.
He leans against the glass cabinet, his fingers hooked in the loop of his tight jeans. “Your number for one. Then a date tonight, sweetheart?”
“Sorry, not interested. Anything else you’re after?”
He’s a good looking guy, but so full of himself. As if he thought I would instantly give him my number after that statement?
“So you’re into girls? That’s cool! I don’t mind watching a little girl on girl action. I’m hard just thinking of the two of you together,” he groans.
Resting my hands against the glass top, I lean over the top and get right in his face. “Listen here, asshole. You and I are never going to happen, plus if I was with my girl here, I wouldn’t allow some fucking loser like you to watch. Got me?” I growl.
His hand shoots out and latches onto my arm, pulling me further over the counter, right back in his face. “Feisty aren’t ya? I like it rough, sweetheart. You’re only fuelling the fire with me. Plus, I get what I want every damn time,” he hisses.
“You have about two seconds to remove your hands from her before I put a bullet in your head.” I freeze.
The guy holding my arm straightens and looks behind me where I know my dad is standing. I also know he’s holding a gun in his hand pointing it at the guy still holding onto me.
His fingers lift slowly from my arm one by one and he steps back away from me. Rubbing over my arm where his hold had been I turn and walk over to my dad. Lexie close behind me.
Chopper’s left hand in the air with a gun in his tight grip pointing it toward the guy standing behind me. His other hand held out stopping me. “Are you all right?”
Nodding my head, I shift past him and stand behind him safely.
The gun still trained on the guy, I don’t notice the other guy that came in with him till now. He takes a step back, hands up in front of him while his eyes move between Chopper to the back of the guy in front of him. He stands there not once looking in my direction. I can’t help but check him out. Black boots with chains attached. Worn ripped jeans covering thick muscular thighs, black tight shirt stretching over his impressive chest, and covering that a leather jacket. Damn! It’d been a while since I’d seen a very yummy specimen of a man.
His blond hair glistened in the light. Short at the side, but long enough on top to grab onto. A narrow nose, chiseled cheeks, his brown eyes the color of milk chocolate. My eyes slide down to his lips. Oh, sweet God have mercy! His mouth is perfection. Both lips plump, full. I can't take my eyes from his mouth. Licking my own lips wanting to lick his and possibly more, his lips curl up at the side.
My eyes shift up to his. Gasping, his eyes bore into my own, unmoving. I can’t look away. I’m captivated, pulled into a world unknown. His lips twitch again, my eyes shifting back down to his mouth.
Someone coughs behind me, pulling me out of my trance. Shaking the thoughts away before they head to unchartered territory, I shift back and hide behind my dad. I can’t believe I stood there practically drooling over the guy. He is gorgeous. Mouth-wateringly yummy. Leaning my head forward, I catch a glimpse of Lexie’s boot as it comes into view. Looking across at her, she raises her eyebrows at me.
Shaking my head. I’m not going to respond to that, especially in front of my dad and the newcomers. Taking a deep breath and counting to ten, I straighten myself and look up. I stare at my dad’s back, not once looking around.
“Either say what you’re here to say or fuck off,” Chopper growls.
“We’re your new hired help.” It wasn’t the jack-ass that spoke earlier, it was the hottie. His voice deep, as he answers.
“Names?” is all Chopper asks. I glance over his shoulder toward the two guys standing at the front.
“That there’s, Tank.” He points over to the
idiot that’s standing near the counter, “I’m Zane,” his eyes find my own again while he says his name.
He lowers the gun to his side. “Name’s Chopper! One thing about my shop, you leave the girls alone. Understood?”
“Crystal,” Zane answers.
Chopper steps forward toward Tank. “If you ever lay a hand on any of my girls again, I will gut you and throw you to the dogs. Got me?”
Tank grins cockily at Chopper. No words, not even a nod.
Chopper’s hand shoots out and grips Tank around the throat. Tank is smaller against him both in height and weight. His face begins to turn bright red as his hand tightens further. His feet barely touching the ground as he’s lifted. “Did you hear what I said, boy?” he spat in his face.
“Won’t happen again,” Tank chokes out.
Chopper releases him and drops him to the ground. “Right, since that’s all sorted out, I’ll show you to where you’ll both be working.”
Chopper waits until both of them move toward the entrance to the back. Stepping aside, Lexie at my side, I watch as both of them move forward. Tank’s eyes stay directly in front of him while he walks through the door. Zane follows behind. As he approaches, my breath catches in my throat. His arm brushes past mine. I grip onto Lexie’s hand, holding myself together as the sensation of that small touch shoots through my body. I can’t take my eyes from his back as he walks toward the mechanic shop out back. As he rounds the corner he glances over his shoulder and gives me a wink, then he disappears.
“Holy shit did you see that God-like man, Lia?” Lexie drops down onto the chair that was for customers, and fans her face with her hand.
Before I can answer, the door opens and in walks Sid. Smiling, I’m glad for the interruption. I don’t want to talk about the new guy that’s just walked into my shop or my life. I’m not going to think of him, in any way. I’m far from being ready to even think of any male and what they could possibly give me in return. My heart is still healing from the loss of my husband and my child. I can’t be thinking of someone else when they’re both constantly on my mind. I’m not allowing myself to get involved with anyone, especially Zane, no matter how sexy that man is. It’s not going to happen.
Standing in Satonic Customs with a gun pointing in your direction, isn’t the best of welcomes. Tank is an idiot for even touching the beauty that stands near the counter. Just by looking over her, she isn’t one to mess with. Although she looks like a wet dream in her cut-off denim shorts, a black button-up shirt tied to her hip. I can see a hint of skin peeking its way through as she leans over the counter. Her brown hair is pulled up and away from her face, her eyes a dull gray is all I can see from where I stand with Tank in front of me.
She never flinches once when Tank yanks on her arm. Rage fills me the second his hands are on her. It’s an unexpected feeling, but I don’t care. Stepping forward to rip that asshole away from her, I don’t get a chance when a guy dressed in all leather steps from behind the door at the back. He looks between the goddess to other young woman, then back to Tank.
His hand slides behind his back and then he raises a Glock, pointing it directly at Tank’s head. Fucking wanker! He never could keep his damn hands to himself. And the shit that’s sprouting from his mouth is worse than what he has done.
I’m going to kick his God damn ass. We need this job, and the second we step foot into the shop he fucks it all up. I’m not going to allow him to ruin this. This is the only motorcycle shop in town, the next one was over a hundred miles away, and this is where I need to be. I was prepared for the outcome if Tank screws it up. I still have a chance to work here if he lost out, but Tank needs to be here too. This is a two man job, not one.
Walking away from the little temptress, I couldn’t help but wink at her. I notice her checking me out, once she’d realized I was in the room. I allow her to do so. Just having her eyes roam over my body has my dick hard. The way her tongue slowly slides over her bottom lip has me groaning, wanting that same tongue stroking over my cock.
Once around the corner, I adjust my jeans so I feel comfortable. I stop when Chopper does. Tank stands beside me while Chopper walks over to a guy who’s leaning over a Harley Davidson. They speak with hushed voices. Then the guy working on the bike stands up and walks over to where we are standing.
“Boys, this is Torch. He’s the one who’ll show you the ropes,” Chopper states.
Sticking my hand out to Torch. “Nice to meet ya, bro.” Torch doesn’t hesitate as his own hand shoots out and grips mine. We both stand there eye to eye as our grip tightens. Putting a little more pressure into my own grip, Torch did the same. Removing my hand from his grip. “So what do you want us to do first?”
I wasn’t here to stand around. I need to get in and do what’s needed. I hate not doing anything, when there’s shit to do. I wasn’t one of those guys that said they could do anything when, in fact, they couldn’t. I need to show them what I am capable of. I need to be accepted into this shop. This exact shop is where I need to be.
Shifting to the side, Torch points across the garage toward a Harley frame. Which looks like every single part has been taken from it and is now lying on the floor at the base of it. “You have four hours to put it back together, the way it came in.”
Well fuck! Not taking my eyes from the so-called bike, it didn’t look like your typical Harley. It’s modified. It would help a great deal to know what it’d looked like before whoever had ripped it apart.
“Sure, no problem.” I can do this. I’d done this plenty of times. It’s just fucked up when you have no idea what the bike originally looked like.
A hand slaps me on the back, stilling myself. “Right, if you can do that in the allotted time frame, you keep the job, Zane,” Chopper says.
Not looking behind me, I walk off toward the bike that holds my job in its damn framework. I swear it’s laughing at me. But I don’t care. I’m going to get this bike back to the way it was when it came in, even if I didn’t see the machine in all its glory.
Two and a half hours later, I stand back and glance over the finished bike that stands proudly in front of me. Wiping my hands on an oil rag as I walk around the beast of a machine, every part shining in the light from the garage.
Dropping the rag, I run my hand over the handlebars, down the fuel tank and over the seat. There isn’t an ounce of dust on the bike. It's taken me at least half an hour just to polish it. Crouching down, looking at the now shining motor, I hear a cough behind me. Spinning around, the brown haired bombshell stands there leaning against the door of the garage, looking at me. Standing to my full height, I face her completely while she looks on. Her eyes don’t move from the bike behind me. Pushing herself away from the door, she makes her way toward the bike, still not looking in my direction.
“You did a great job there,” she says as she passes me.
Of course, I did!
Rolling my eyes as soon as her back was to me. I just broke my own record in putting a bike back together. Plus, I need this job. So, I had to do it quickly.
“Thanks.” My eyes are glued to her as she walks around the bike, admiring it. Her hand slides out and over the framework. Every stroke her fingers make over the metal frame sends a trail of fire in its wake over my body. It’s like the bike is connected to me alone. Every touch it receives, so does my body. Before I can pull myself together, she leans over the leather seat and inspects the fuel tank. A groan slips from my lips before I even have a chance to hold it back. Her head shoots up and she locks her eyes on mine, then raises her eyebrow.
“Got a bit of dust in my throat,” I mumble.
“Right,” she laughs. Stepping away from the bike. “Anything more you need to do to her?” she asks.
“Her?” I frown. Fuck! Could she read my mind? All I can think about was stripping her bare and bending her over that damn bike while I fucked her from behind. My dick strains painfully against the zipper of my jeans. I wanted rough and hard with her the moment I
saw her standing out front.
“The bike! The owner gave it a name, Shelia. So, that being her.” Standing to her full height which isn’t much compared to my six foot three inch frame. I noticed when I’d passed her earlier that she only comes to my chest. My eyes continue to follow her movements as she stands fully beside the bike with her hand resting on the seat, glancing my way.
“Why the fuck would a guy call his cycle, Shelia? Couldn’t he have come up with something more original than that?” I mumble. Really? A cycle looking like that needs a sexy name. My breath catches in my throat as she removes her hand from the leather seat and throws her right leg over the bike and sits down. Leaning the bike to the left, she flips the kickstand up and sits there on all that metal like a goddess. Jesus! Turning the handlebars, she starts to push the bike with her feet on the ground toward the door.
“What are you doing?” I hiss as I quickly stand in front of her. Was she crazy? What the hell was she doing?
“I’m moving the bike,” she replies then continues to shift her feet on the ground, pushing the weight of the bike along its way.
Gripping the handlebars, stopping her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to move the bike, sweetheart.”
She freezes, her back straightening as her head tilts up toward me. “Sweetheart?” she hisses.
Raising both my hands and taking a step back. “You shouldn’t move the bike.”
She stands up on her feet holding the bike between her thighs. “Why shouldn’t I? Is it because I’m a woman, Zane?”
Shit! The way she says my name sends a shock wave straight to my balls, even with that pissed off inflection in her voice. I can’t think with my dick right now, or while working in this garage. Thinking of a way not to piss her off more, she still shouldn’t be moving the bike. Of course, it’s the fact that she’s a woman. A tiny little thing at that, matter of fact.
“Um.” Rubbing the back of my neck, she stomps her foot at my answer. Placing the stand back down.
“Torch,” she yells out.