explode and my cock throb—so plump, so fat, so long. Begging to be kissed and licked and teased.
I poured coffee, trying to banish the memory so I could look her in the eye without popping a boner—too late, I already had one.
But I was so distracted, I overfilled the mug—scorching hot coffee scalded my hand, and I shook it, snarling a stream of curses as I fished ice from the freezer and ran it along the web of my thumb where the skin was burned.
“God, I’m an idiot,” I said.
“You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah, fine. I’m not normally a klutz like this, I swear.”
She sounded like she was holding back laughter. “No? Something’s got you off your game, huh?”
“Something…or someone.” I tossed the ice into the sink and grabbed my coffee. Headed for the stairs. “Sorry one more time for walking in on you, Torie.”
She shrugged. “It happens.”
Something in her eyes was not as nonchalant as her voice and words. I didn’t push it, though.
She followed me down to the garage, her own coffee mug in hand. I pointed at the wiring harness I’d begun reinstalling. “That’s our first job.”
And so the morning went—she was a lot more knowledgeable than I think even she realized. Any tool I needed, she was ready with it. She knew what I needed almost before I did. And there were many times that morning that her slender, long-fingered hand could reach places to thread a bolt that I couldn’t get to. She was nimble, and had this adorable, sexy way of reaching down into the engine bay, bent over and turned sideways, and she’d turn her head up, and her eyes would go glassy as she focused on working by feel, and her tongue would lick at the corner of her mouth as she threaded the bolt by touch.
In less than half the time it would have taken me working alone, the job was done. I used a handful of rags to clean and polish the engine, making sure the headers and the chrome top of the Edelbrock air cleaner gleamed, made sure the wires were neatly leading where they had to go, checked over all the obvious things once more, and then stood back, nodding.
“There she is, looks good.” I grinned at Torie. “Keys are in it—you want to do the honors?”
She looked eager, giddy. “Hell yeah!” She slid behind the wheel, and a moment later that big old 440 turned over and caught with a throaty snarl, the fat exhaust pipes turning the snarl into thunder as she revved it up.
I saw the thrill on her face—the feeling you only get when a big motor sings like that. “Wanna go for a spin?”
Her eyes widened. “Um. I mean, yeah? But it’s a client’s car.”
I winked. “Gotta put it through some paces, make sure there’s no rattles or hiccups at higher RPM.”
“Sure you do,” she said, with a droll grin.
“I do! I always go for a test drive, listen to the motor, make sure everything is right.”
She shrugged. “I mean, I’d love to go for a spin. But you better drive.”
I slid into the passenger seat. “You have a license?”
“Yeah.”
“You know how to drive a stick?”
“Yeah—my dad taught me how to drive on the MG, which was a manual. Said knowing how to drive stick was a dying art and I should know.”
“It is a dying art, these days. There’s a joke that says having a manual transmission almost makes your car theftproof because most younger car thieves can’t drive a stick.” I gestured at the bay door, which I’d opened several hours ago to let in sunlight. “Nice and slow, Torie. Take her around the block and then we’ll switch.”
She eyed me. “You’re sure? I don’t want anything to happen. I’d feel awful.”
“Just be careful.” I grinned. “Now come on. Listen to that purr…this old beast is begging to be driven.”
She pushed the clutch in, snugged the shifter into first, glanced at me with a heady, eager grin that shot straight to my gut…and then slid us slowly out of the garage. A few turns took us out of the industrial complex and onto a side street, and then to the main road. It was a Saturday morning, and the industrial area was deserted. When we got to the main road, she pulled a slow right and I held out a hand for her to stop.
She braked, glanced at me. “Ready to take over?”
I shook my head. “You should know, first, that I