Dirty Deeds (Mechanics of Love #3)
Page 12
She ran a hand over his shoulder. “And you have that, right? The success, I mean. And the money.”
He didn’t answer her for a minute, and his hands settled on her hips. “Sure, sure, I have that.”
She frowned then. “So why . . . why me? Why this? I’m basically everything you left, right?”
He licked his lips, his eyes on his hands where they gripped her hips. “I don’t know. At first, I only saw a female mechanic. A sexy one, but just a female mechanic nonetheless. But since I’ve been back, I’ve seen you. And your family and your town, and it’s not about what you do and what you are, but who you are.” He looked up then. “I can’t seem to stay away from who you are, Alex.” His hands cupped her neck, his thumbs brushing under her jaw. “So he didn’t take that away. He dulled it, maybe, but it’s coming back, that light you have. I hope you believe it.”
She wasn’t sure. “Maybe I’m starting to.”
His lips parted. “What do you want to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Right now, what do you want to do?”
She blinked, and answered without thinking too hard about it. “I’d like to kiss you.”
He nodded. “Then go ahead.”
She ran her fingers around his mouth, feeling the ridges on his lips. “Then what?”
He blinked lazily, his tongue snaking out to wet the tip of her thumb. “I think you know what you want. And I want you to be free to ask for it. To take it.” He huffed out a breath. “I’m sitting here, soaking wet, with the hottest girl I’ve ever met on my lap, and I’m telling you that you have all the power here. All of it. You might have felt powerless with him, but he didn’t take your power from you. It’s not mine to give back, either, because you’ve had it all along. It’s still yours.”
Her face was dry, her eyes clear. There were no tears now, not while this man in front of her, a man she never in a million years thought she’d connect with, was speaking directly from his heart, in that deep, accented voice. “You’re amazing.”
He laughed softly. “I’m really not. I think you’re rubbing off on me.”
“I’m not that amazing.”
His hands settled on her shoulders and squeezed. “That’s the one time I’ll tell you that you are so, so very wrong, Sprite.”
She pushed forward, her chest smashing into his. He was passive beneath her in his actions, letting her lick his lips and run her fingers through his damp hair. But his eyes burned whenever their gazes met. She parted her lips and his opened with hers. She licked inside his mouth, deepening the kiss, and he moaned, the sound rumbling from his chest, vibrating against her already hard nipples.
She ground down onto him, feeling the hard ridge in his pants that let her know he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
But he made no move to direct their actions. His hands rested on her hips, his fingers digging into her skin, but not trying to take charge.
She let go of his lips reluctantly and rained kisses over his stubbled jaw and down his neck. She wanted his shirt off. She wanted her dress down. She wanted skin and saliva and something inside her where she ached so badly.
“Spencer,” she whispered at the base of his throat. “I need you.”
“Fuck.” His hips were moving now, and he made a frustrated sound in his throat, like he couldn’t stop them from thrusting up into her. His head lifted, and then he froze.
She did too, her teeth latched onto his collarbone. She pulled off. “What?”
“Uh . . . ”
“Spencer?”
“Alex, the, uh, rain stopped.”
“Okay.”
“So we’re more visible through the windows.”
“Uh . . . ”
“And, erm, there’s a small human looking at us right now.”
Alex slowly turned her head and there, right beside the driver’s side window, was a little kid eating an ice-cream cone, staring at them with a cocked head. “Oh my God.”
“Yeah, that was my thought as well.”
“We should probably . . . ” She gestured toward the passenger seat.
Spencer nodded, the muscles in his neck straining. He had to be in pain. She was in pain. “Yes, that would probably be good.”
She slithered back over to her seat as the kid began to wave at them. Spencer lifted his hand and smiled tightly.
They put on their seat belts in silence and Spencer put the car in Reverse, pulling out of the parking lot as the parent of the child collected him and directed him toward their van. Alex tried not to burst out laughing as she stared out the window as they drove to her apartment.
Chapter Eleven
THEY WERE A mile away from the restaurant before Spencer could find humor in the situation. After the tension of their conversation, and the kiss that had blown his mind, he needed to release some steam. He started to laugh and Alex joined in with him. “So, that was bloody awkward.”
“I was about to take off my dress.”
Spencer nearly swerved off the road. “In the car?”
“You said a bunch of amazing things that made me want to get naked, okay? Quit being nice and stuff and I’ll keep my clothes on.”
Oh, well, that wouldn’t do. “Alex, you are the hottest woman to ever wear coveralls and hold a tire iron.”
Her eyes shifted to the side, and she hesitated for a moment. Spencer held his breath, then she pulled down the straps of her dress so they hung loosely on her arms. “Yes?”
This was incredibly unsafe, but at that moment, Spencer didn’t give a rat’s arse. “Your breasts are a work of art.”
She laughed and shimmied the top of her dress down to her waist, revealing a black lace bra.
“Oh, Christ,” he muttered.
“You like it?”
“Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.”
She hummed under her breath, entirely too pleased with herself, and stretched her arms over her head, glancing at him from under her lashes. “Tell me more, Posh.”
He swallowed. “Being inside you was the closest I’m sure I’ll ever get to heaven, especially since I’ll probably crash this car in the next five minutes and kill us both.”
She lost the sex-kitten look as she doubled over and cackled. “Oh, shit, Posh, that was a good one.”
“Yeah? What do I get for it?”
In a flash, she took her dress off. She now sat in the passenger seat, on his black leather seats, in a set of black lace lingerie that made his mouth water. “Sprite, you’re killing me.”
“Guess we’re both going to hell then.” Her fingers ran along the tops of her breasts, along skin that had pebbled into goose bumps from her wet dress, then her hand slid down her torso, over her hips, and then along the crease of her thighs. “God, I need you so badly, Spencer.”
He gripped the steering wheel harder and worked on breathing properly. “Sprite—”
“When we get to my apartment,” she said, those fingers now slipping under the top of her panties, causing Spencer to think he was going to hyperventilate, “I’m going to put on your jacket. And you’re going to follow me into my apartment knowing that I’m only wearing this under it.” Yep, he was going to go into anaphylactic shock. “And then once we’re inside, you’re going to sit on the chair in the living room. And I’m going to dance for you. I’m going to enjoy it. And so are you. And then I’m going to get naked. And then I’m going to take off your clothes, straddle you, and ride your cock until we both come.” She moaned as her fingers moved under that thin fabric. “Because we both deserve it. What do you think?”
He wasn’t really thinking anything at all. “I, uh, I think you’re right.”
She smiled wickedly. “Of course I am.”
Spencer drove the rest of the way to her apartment pressing the heel of his palm against his erection.
When he parked the car, Alex pulled his jacket around her shoulders, balled up her dress in her hand, and winked at him.
Winked.
But he didn’t care, not at all, not while she was walking ahead of him, barefoot, her heels dangling from one hand, his jacket barely covering the bottom of her ass. Night had fallen, plunging the parking lot into mostly shadows. That was good, because he didn’t want anyone else to see her like this.
Only him.
What a mind fuck.
When she opened her front door, she pointed to the chair in her living room and he sank down on it, gripping the plush armrests, digging his fingers into the fabric.
Alex’s hair was half-dry now, and she’d wiped her face on the way home, so she looked fresh, like she’d just stepped out of the shower. He liked that, as if the rain washed away her needless attempt to impress him.
Of course, she pulled out her red lipstick and smoothed it over her lips. He understood that was for her, the lipstick, and that made him smile. However, the smile quickly fell from his face when she dropped his jacket to the floor. Because he sort of lost control of all motor function.
All that skin, all that pale skin right there for him to touch.
But Alex had plans. She turned on the stereo and a beat echoed from a set of speakers near the TV.
She began to dance.
Her movements were small at first, just a slight roll of her hips, her fingers threaded through her hair on each side of her head.
He’d been to strip clubs. He’d danced with women, but he’d never seen anything like Alex right now. Eyes closed, head back, and as she turned her dark hair brushed the top of her ass, which was bared to his gaze in her thong underwear.
She reached around to her back with one hand, and unclipped her bra. It fell to the floor at her feet. She shot him a look over her shoulder, a smile on her face, and it was all heat and lust, and it sliced into him like a lightning strike.
“Alex.”
She faced him, her arms crossed over her chest, hiding her breasts. “What?”
He wanted to tell her to hop on his lap and make them both happy, but this was her show. And he wasn’t sure he wanted it to end anyway. “You’re gorgeous.”
She smiled bigger then, which he hadn’t thought possible, then dropped to the floor in a crouch. Her hair covered half of her face as she crawled toward him, the muscles in her shoulders rolling, her hips swaying, like a panther. She licked her lips. “Take your shirt off, Posh.”
It was a struggle because his limbs weren’t working very well, but he managed somehow to get his shirt off himself.
When she reached his feet, she took off his shoes and socks, then slid her hands up his calves and thighs. She undid his belt, tugged down his zipper, and then pulled out his cock. He sucked in a breath as she stroked him with a strong, sure grip. Her tongue flicked out, and she lapped at his tip. He jerked and then cursed himself to stay put.
She smiled, then took him in her mouth.
His head bounced on the chair as he threw it back, unable to stop the loud moan from escaping. Her mouth was perfect, her rhythm flawless. Her hands dug into his thighs as she bobbed her head in his lap. He didn’t touch her hair, not wanting to guide her, because she didn’t need it anyway.
As suddenly as she started, she stopped, stood up, and dropped her last remaining piece of clothing to the floor.
He wanted to stop time for a minute, take a picture, and store it away so he’d never forget the moment of Alex standing in front of him, hair wild, red lips smeared, grinning like the devil herself.
“You’re not real,” he muttered. “Right? This is a dream and we’re actually still standing in that parking lot in the rain.”
She straddled his thighs, grabbed his cock, and sank down on it. “Does this feel like a dream to you?”
No, no it didn’t, because that tight heat was real, spreading throughout his body, until he swore he was burning from the inside out.
She ground into him, rolling her hips as he latched onto a perfect nipple and sucked. She moaned, spearing her fingers in his hair, and began to work her hips harder, bouncing on his lap now. He let her nipple slip from his mouth and stared down where they connected, where he watched his hard cock slip in and out of her body.
She was beautiful everywhere, all curves and arse and breasts, like her body was made to be cherished.
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
And she moaned, her eyes flickering open. “T-touch me.”
He reached down and found the hard bud of her clit with his thumb. He rolled it as he thrust his hips up to meet her. She was panting hard now, those gorgeous breasts bouncing, brushing his chest and neck. “So close,” she whispered. “So close.”
He didn’t even think of himself in that moment, or his need to come, because this was all about her, about that flush that was covering her whole body, the way her eyes were hazy, the way she bit her red lips as she worked herself harder on his cock. He reached up and flicked a nipple, then gripped the back of her neck. “Wish you could see yourself right now, how fucking beautiful you look when you’re in control. When you have the power.”
She cried out and slammed her lips onto his as her body froze and convulsed. Her inner walls squeezed his cock as she whimpered into his mouth, her hips snapping against him. He gripped her back, holding on, so she knew he had her. That he was there. And he’d be there when it was over.
Her hips worked slowly as she panted against the skin of his neck. Her fingers twirled in his hair as her back heaved. “I just . . . need to catch my breath,” she said, as she tightened around his cock inside her.
“Can I move us to the bed?” he asked.
She nodded.
He picked her up and wrapped her limp legs around him as she clung to his neck. When they reach the bed, he laid her down, then climbed on top of her. She encircled him in her arms and guided him back into her body. “I want to feel you.”
He began with slow, gentle thrusts because he knew she’d be sensitive, and the whole time she stroked his hair, his back, grabbed his arse and squeezed. When he came, it wasn’t explosive. It was an orgasm that rolled throughout his entire body, into each finger, and to the tip of every hair on his head. He gasped against her chest as he swore it went on forever, him pulsing into her body.
When he was done, he rolled to her side, pulling her against him, her hair spread across his chest. He sighed, a sigh that he felt down into the marrow of his bones. He wanted to sink down into the mattress, fuse themselves to the bed so he never had to get out and deal with anything or anyone but this woman in his arms.
ALEX COULDN’T MOVE her limbs. All she could do was lay limply on Spencer and wish she never had to get up.
Okay, well, she could move a finger. One finger. A finger that was currently tracing the tattoo on his left pectoral. It was a fox, and not a particularly well-done fox. It was a little basic, the shading simplistic, the head in profile.
But it was over his heart. It had meant something to him, at least at one time.
“Why the fox?” she asked, tracing the outline of an ear.
His brow furrowed in confusion, then his face cleared as he glanced down at his chest. “Oh.” He blew out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. “That damn fox.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I don’t . . . no. Not really, to be honest. I don’t like it.”
She rested her chin on her fist propped on his chest. “That sounds like a story.”
“My brain hurts.”
“You didn’t use your brain for what we just did. Now tell me the story, dammit.”
He rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked into a small smile. “I got it when I was sixteen. I was still in that stage where I wanted to impress my father. This fox is the symbol of his repair shop. It’s Red Fox Auto Repair. Because . . . I don’t know. He likes foxes, I guess. And Manchester United.” She raise
d an eyebrow and he laughed. “So anyway, I went and got this tattoo to impress my dad. Lied about my age and the whole bit and finally found a tattooist to do it. Surprisingly,” he said drily, “he wasn’t the best. Anyway, my father thought it was dumb. So that was that. I just have this fox on my chest now for no reason. I could get it lasered off, I guess, but I’m not a huge fan of pain. Or lasers.”
She touched its snout. “It’s kind of cute.”
“Foxes aren’t bloody cute. They’re cunning.”
“It’s really not that bad.”
“It’s not that it’s a fox, it’s that . . . for years, it reminded me of where I was from. And what I wanted to get away from. So I hated it. Kind of awkward in college when I would mess around with a girl and I refused to take my shirt off.”
“Well, that’s a shame, since you look pretty hot with your shirt off.”
He smiled and ran a hand through her hair. “You’re just being nice.”
She shook her head. “You should know by now, I don’t do much just to be nice.”
“You offered me a ride that first day we met.”
He had a point but . . . “Who said I didn’t have ulterior motives to that?”
“Oh? I looked easy, then?”
She laughed and scooted up his body to press a kiss to his lips. “I don’t know that anything about this is easy.”
He sobered at that, his fingers teasing the strands at her temple. “No, no, I don’t think there is.”
“So does your dad still live in Britain? Do you get to see him often?”
His eyes went a little distant, like this wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. “He does. He lives in the same house I grew up in, and works at the same garage he did when I was a kid.” Spencer continued to play with her hair. “I do not get to see him often, no. After I graduated, I would go back a couple of times a year but it seemed like . . . the more I visited, the less close we became. Which is so backward, but it’s the truth. He acted like he didn’t want me there, like it wasn’t my home anymore. And so I stopped visiting.”