by Frankie Love
Dirty Cute
A Bad Boy Romance
Frankie Love
Contents
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
PREVIEW
Also by Frankie Love
About the Author
Copyright
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Edited by
Teresa Banschbach
ICanEdit4U
Copyright © 2018 by Frankie Love
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Prologue
Clementine
The car radio tries to blast my worries away. I tap my thumbs on the steering wheel as I drive toward the office supply store. Maybe not thrilling for everyone, but I have an obsession with Sharpies, Post-it notes, and desk-sized calendars.
Not exactly bringing sexy back with my errand, but considering I'm a student teacher, I figure it bodes well for my career.
As loud as it is, the song on the radio isn't exactly drowning out my worries. It's reminding me of my ex. It's a love ballad, and it brings me back to where I was a week ago. The breakup with a man who was no good for me.
The song belts out, Love that is forever will last a lifetime.
Not that we were in love. Not even close. Heck, we had never even slept together. After a month, he was frustrated. By two, he was mad. By three? Well, he was cheating.
No more. Next time I get the chance, I'm just gonna go all in. I'm going to forget about the things my mama told me, such as that I should make a man wait if I want him to respect me.
Well, what about my needs? What if I respect myself enough for the both of us?
Besides, I'm tired of my type-A personality holding me back. I may love to organize my lingerie, but I am sick of the only thing I reach for in that drawer being my battery-operated boyfriend.
I only stayed as long as I did with that loser because I wanted it to work. I want more than a ring on my finger, I want forever. I didn't think that was too much to ask.
But I'm over that dream. The getting married, being a wife and mother one. I'm only twenty-two for goodness’ sake and am in the process of applying for teaching jobs all over the state. I was fighting for a happily ever after with a man who I didn't even love. Not even kinda. He may have looked the part of my hubby -- khakis and polos and a crewcut -- but deep down, I knew he would never satisfy me.
Because when I close my eyes and dream up Mr. Right he certainly isn't driving a golf cart on his way to a Rotary meeting.
No, my dream man is a little dangerous and a whole lotta dirty.
The exact opposite of me: A virgin who shops at Anne Taylor, wears statement necklaces, and teaches kindergarten.
The lingerie drawer? It's full of kinky pieces: crotchless panties and fishnet bodysuits.
Let's just say they've never been put to proper use.
No more. Next time I will jump into bed on the first date because, as they say, you only live once.
Also, because I am horny AF.
It's time to do the damn thing.
The song ends, and I turn down the music before the commercials start. That's when I notice the weird putt-putt-putt of the engine. And that about forty-three lights start blinking on my dashboard. Then the car begins to lurch.
Of course, it does. Because as if being cheated on wasn't bad enough, I now need to deal with repair costs I can't exactly afford on my non-existent college student salary.
My car grinds to a halt in the middle of a busy intersection and I feel as frustrated as ever.
Then I look up and see my car died directly in front of an auto repair shop.
Fate. Destiny. Kismet.
Whatever it is, I'll take it. The stars have aligned.
And when a hulking mechanic looks up from the hood of a truck parked outside his garage, my heart lurches as hard as my car. I thought my frustration was all about my ex, but after one look at this mechanic, I realize I was oh so wrong.
This is called sexually frustrated. My thighs clench together, a tingle travels up my spine, and my heart begins to race.
Taking a slow, steady breath, I open my car door. I lick my lips, lift my eyebrows, and give him my brightest smile.
When he smiles right back I know I won't be sexually frustrated for long.
Chapter 1
Mike
Women are rarely happy when their cars break down.
I saw her car across the street, smoke billowing out of the tail and from under the hood.
But as she stands in front of me now, she doesn't look the least bit annoyed. In fact, she's smiling. Her pouty pink lips turned up in a smile, give me a reason to wipe my greasy hands on a towel and give her a grin.
She's cute as a damn daisy, too. In this little pink skirt, with a pearl necklace around her neck. She has no business being in a mechanic's dirty shop. But it's a nice thing to see on an early June day when it's sweltering out. It's not usually this hot in Washington until late August, but I've been sweating balls here under this damn hood.
She has dark hair with her bangs swept to the side, and she lifts her eyebrow, looking me up and down, discreetly checking me out. I get it often enough to know the cues. Maybe that sounds cocky, but when I lift the hem of my tee-shirt up to wipe my brow, I know what I'm doing.
She wants to check me out? Well, then I'll make sure this pretty little thing knows what I can offer.
A tune up like she's never had before.
"You like what you see?" I tease her, leaning against the hood of the car I'm working on. A '67 Chevy.
"It would do in a pinch."
"Is that what you're in right now?" I ask, aware of the way she's biting her bottom lip, the rise and fall of her chest. She is cute as hell and unpretentious to boot. Freckles across the bridge of her upturned nose, bright green eyes that are accentuated with thick lashes. Petite, too. Granted, I'm nearly 6'4", but this cutie barely looks over five feet tall.
"Not a pinch exactly, considering my car broke down right in front of your shop. Some might call that destiny."
"Destiny seems like a little much," I joke. "Serendipity, maybe?"
"I'll take it." She tugs on the strap of her purse, hugging it to her like a shield. I realize then she's as out of her element as she appears. She looks around the shop. "So, do you think you can fix it?"
"The car?" I ask, lost in thought; lost in the way her ass is hugged by that little skirt.
"Did you think something else was broken?" She turns to face me, leaning against the hood of the car next to the one I'm working on.
"Not from what I can see," I tell her, looking her up and down the same way she was eyeing me.
A blush covers the tops of her cheeks and I grin, liking the idea of making her squirm.
"Why don't you let me have look at your engine," I tell her, knowing exactly what I mean. But she doesn't seem to notice my innuendo, or if she does she makes no mention of it. Instead, she nods, and I follow her back across the street.
It takes about ten seconds to realize it overheated because she needs coolant.
"It's a hot day. When's the last time you had an oil change?" This time I look directly into those pine green eyes of hers and lick my lips. I can't help it. If she's in need of a mechanic, I'm the one who should be under her hood.
"It's been way too long since I had an oil change," she answers, and she runs her hands over her hair, lifting it from the base of her neck. She uses her other hand to fan herself. "Is it hot out here?"
"Since you walked into the shop? Yeah, it's gotten about twenty degrees hotter."
She turns red at my words, but then she smiles, which tells me she doesn't exactly mind.
"Look," I tell her. "About the car. It's a simple fix, couple bottles of coolant will get you sorted."
"Oh, thank goodness," she says, dropping her hair.
"Let me check to see if we have what you need in stock, okay?" She nods and follows me back to the shop. "I'm Mike Malone, by the way."
"I'm Clementine."
"Like a Cutie?"
She lifts her eyebrows.
"The orange. Cuties?"
A smile breaks over her face. "That's adorable."
"You're adorable," I tell her. I don’t mean to be so frank, but I also don’t really mind speaking the truth, as a rule.
"So, this is your shop?" she asks.
"Yeah, well, I co-own it with my brother Moxon."
I'm the only one here. It's Sunday afternoon and everyone else is enjoying their day off.
"Most people have exciting things to do on the weekend, but I'm happiest here, working on my old car."
My daughter, Louisa, is with her aunt and uncle and I've got the day to myself. Ever since my brother married Millie a year ago, they've been really good about helping me out with my little girl. Millie loves having Louisa over and today they were planning on going to the farmer's market together. I'm really glad she has a woman in her life. I may have learned how to do a mean French braid, but when it comes to having a woman's touch I'm not exactly the man for the job.
"I get it. I like to be in my classroom on the weekends, organizing things and getting ready for the week. Some people say it's overkill, but I like things to go seamlessly."
"You're a perfectionist?" I ask, knowing that would be the exact opposite of my ex. She had no problem letting Louisa down time and time again.
"Not exactly." She shrugs but when she looks at me, I have the distinct desire to kiss her. I hold back, not wanting to scare this little thing away, but damn, I'm not letting her leave my sight without a taste. "Just trying to do my best," she continues. "I'm a student teacher and hoping to get a good recommendation so I can get hired somewhere. Luckily, I love the work, so being in the classroom doesn't even feel like a job."
"Well, you're in good company," I tell her, feeling relaxed in her presence. "This shop is my favorite place in the world."
She looks around, frowning. "I'm guessing you've never been to Disneyland then? Because no offense, but that's the happiest place on Earth."
"True, never been there."
"That's a literal tragedy," she says with a smile.
"Yeah?" I cock an eyebrow at her, stepping closer, desperate to wrap my arm around her and pull her lips to mine. "Another tragedy is the idea of you having gone so long without an oil change."
She licks her pouty lips again; her tits look like they are perking up at the prospect.
"While you're here, you might as well get a tune-up." I lean in, tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and lay it all out there. "Free of charge, of course."
Chapter 2
Clementine
He is not being coy.
Which I appreciate.
Because I don't want to be coy either.
I never go back on a plan once I start on it, and I distinctly remember giving myself the green light for a hook-up next time I encountered the opportunity. Forget waiting for the perfect husband. I don't want or need a husband right now.
I just want to get off.
Does that make me a slut? I don't think so. I think it makes me smart. A hot mechanic with a ladder of abs just asked me if I wanted my oil changed. Free of charge.
*Raises hand*
Yes, please.
"Um, just like, uh, here?" I ask, wanting the details before I commit. "It looks kinda..."
"Dirty? Rough? Wild? I check all of those boxes, Cutie, and you know it. That's what you were hoping for when you walked into this shop today."
I smirk, crossing my arms, not at all as opposed to the truth as I am trying to let on. "I was looking for a mechanic."
As if he knows I was hoping for more, he wraps an arm around my waist. I pull in a sharp breath, a shiver of excitement washing over me.
"Well, you found what you were looking for then, Cutie."
"Are you always so forward?"
He looks down into my eyes, giving me an arrogant grin that makes me all hot and bothered. "Yes, Miss Cutie, I am."
"Miss?"
"You're a teacher, aren't you?" He has dimples and when he smiles I know my panties are ruined.
I nod, my heart pounding, my pussy wet. No one ever, ever comes on to me like this. "I am," I manage to say, the longing in my voice inescapable.
"So, did you want to teach me a lesson?"
I shake my head.
"No?" He furrows his brows and I summon my courage.
"I want you to close this shop and teach me to drive a stick shift."
He laughs, hard, and I do too, giggling over how suggestive I'm being. It feels good to just be silly like this. I'm always so rigid and uptight. Full of rules and plans and... Mike doesn’t seem like that at all.
He is pulling down the garage door and locking it, telling me he can worry about cooling down my car after we both get our engines revved, and I laugh again, throwing back my head as he pulls me into his arms.
I feel safe here, with him; there are no windows, so I don't need to be nervous about anyone seeing this out-of-character rendezvous. Right now, it's just him and me. Maybe he's right. Maybe it is serendipity.
Mike's hands are firm on my hips and my eyes widen as he presses himself against me. His cock is big, I can tell, and even if I've never done this before, I've done my research. And my body is primed. Ready. I can get myself off with my vibrator I keep in the back of my panty drawer. The stronger, the better.
I’ll get reading a good romance novel, my eyes glued to the kindle screen, my hand gripping tight to my B.O.B. as I ride my latex lover until my thighs are coated in come.
But right now, I have an opportunity for more than filthy dirty fantasies.
I'm not planning on wasting it.
"You feel that, Cutie?" he asks, pressing my hand on his jeans, his thick shaft growing as I whimper, unable to speak. "Good," he growls. "But the first step in learning to drive stick is wrapping your hands around it, nice and easy. Getting a good feel for how it moves, how big it is in your hand. Make sure you can handle it before you put it into gear."
I lick my lips as his hands unbutton my skirt, and I reach for the zipper on his jeans. I want to be doing the same to him, pushing down his blue jeans and taking in his cock. It's so exciting... so completely not me, yet everything about this feels so right.
"You suggesting I can't handle your car?" I tease, not letting my nerves about my inexperience get in the way. It seems like Mike has plenty of experience being in complete control.
I'll let him take the driver's seat.
He slides my skirt up past my hips, something my ex never did, and leans back, taking in my panties.
I have on a hot pink, satin G-string, the tiniest strip of material covering my pussy.
He whistles low as I swivel my hip, so he can see my bare booty. "Oh, girl, I'm guessing you like things dirtier than you let on."
"What makes you think that?" I ask, pulling off my top, knowing my breasts spill out of this demi-cup bra.
"I'm thinking a girl
wearing a matching bra and panties knows a thing or two about—"
I cut him off. "I may have purchased plenty of skimpy underthings, but I never get a chance to show them off. In fact, I've never shown them off at all."
"What are you saying?" he asks, a hungry look growing in his eyes. Gone are the charming boyish dimples. Now he is all man, all want. All need.
All mine.
I pull back my shoulders, not letting my insecurities get in the way. "I'm saying I'm a virgin."
"And you walk around in that?"
A smile spreads across my face. “I’m type-A through and through. I'd never leave the house in miss-matched underthings.” Then I twist my lips, my tone becoming more serious. "For a long time, I was waiting for the right one but I'm over that now."
“I can’t take your virginity in an auto shop, Cutie. I’d feel like shit.”
I pout out my lips, because I know what I want. This. Him. Now. “You aren’t taking anything,” I tell him. “I’m offering it. Why can’t I have what I want?”
He eyes me warily, as if not believing a thing I say. I can see he's still hopeful, but I'm guessing sleeping with a virgin carries a weight he wasn't planning on. “You really want to get laid by a stranger in a body shop?"
I shake my head, more confident now that I've laid it all out there. "No, now I want to be screwed by the dirty cute mechanic who promised to get under my hood."
Chapter 3
Mike
How the hell did I get a virgin walking into my body shop asking for me to get her all lubed up?