Her Dirty Mechanic

by Bella Love-Wins

  She nods. “It's under the name Roberts. Is it finished? I'd like to get out of this part of town before the after-work, post-happy-hour crowd starts spilling out into the streets.”

  “I'll find the keys. Hang on, gorgeous,” I say without thinking, or maybe something else is doing all the thinking for me right now.

  It takes me no more than a couple of minutes to find her keys in the wall-mounted lock box near the back, but I return to find her pulling off her suit jacket. She throws the item of clothing over the back of a nearby raised toolbox. Completely ignoring that I'm standing right here, she then kicks off her shoes to one side and hikes up her skirt to halfway up her thighs, exposing cream, smooth lines that stiffen my cock in an instant. It's sexy as fuck. I stand there, transfixed for a bit, curious to see what else she'll do, but all my auto maintenance safety training kicks into action.

  “Ma'am, you can't do whatever it is you're thinking about doing. Not back here.” In my beat-up pick truck, sure, I want to tell her. In my bed, fuck yes. But not in the middle of my place of work.

  “Get over yourself, big boy,” she says, gesturing with her chin as her eyes drag down my body to groin level. “I'm not nearly as excited about you as you clearly are about me.”

  Hell. This firecracker doesn't miss a thing.

  “Well, can you blame me, gorgeous?”

  “Keep your eyes on doing a good job on your cars, and maybe you won't have that problem.”

  I'm still thinking how best to respond to what sounds like an insult to the quality of my work when she lowers to the ground, lies back on the rolling creeper seat, and glides under her car.

  “Miss, you can't do that,” I tell her and rest her keys on the counter to pull her out from under there. I lower to my knees beside her and bend my body to one side, extending out a hand toward her. “Take my hand. I'll help you out. You can't be down there.”

  Her head tilts up slightly, and she makes eyes contact with me. “Do I look like I need help, slugger? Or are you just giving me hell because I'm a woman?” The feisty little thing reaches over to the tool tray I left beside her car and grabs a box end wrench in one hand, then a socket wrench that she slips into her other hand.

  “Whether you look like it or not, it ain't safe to let a customer get under cars on our shop floor and mess with stuff. Not men, and not a woman.”

  “Yeah,” she says dismissively. “I just need to take a look at what kind of work you did to my baby before I go. Got a problem with that?”

  “I do.”

  That doesn't stop her from testing the tightness of the drain plug. “Feels all right, I guess.” Her eyes crawl along the undercarriage and stops in the vicinity of the brake fluid line bleeder screw. “What the hell?” She tilts her head up to look at me again, her eyes spitting venom. “Did you mess with my brake fuel line?”

  “I didn't mess with it, miss. It's called a brake line flush. That's what I did. I also topped up the fluids.”

  “Yes, but I never asked for anyone to touch anything, except to do the oil and filter change. Do you people always take a customer's vehicle and do whatever the heck you want to it? Because that's just not right.”

  All that attitude in one woman. I should be mad as hell about the way she keeps testing my patience and being so defiant, but the thing is, it's sexy as fuck. Especially from this angle, seeing her creamy legs go on for miles, slightly parted as she lies on her back, and the rise of her breasts that would fill my hands just perfectly.

  Jesus. I'd like nothing more than to punish her for the way she talks to me. I'm itching to drag her and the creeper seat out from under the Camaro, place her between my legs, grab a handful of her honey blonde hair, and sink down deep inside of her.

  “Are you even listening to me?” she barks, pulling me back to the matter at hand.

  “Calm down, miss,” I tell her.

  “Calm? Hell, you messed with my ride, and you want me to be calm?”

  I'm already sure that no matter how this conversation gets resolved, I have to have her. It's just a question of time. Today, tomorrow, next week, doesn't make a difference. I want this saucy vixen.

  “The extra maintenance is at no cost. If there were gonna be an additional charge, someone would've called you first to get your okay before we went ahead. There's nothing to worry about.”

  I get up from my spot on the floor and grab the strap of one of the other creeper seats, pulling it back toward her car.

  “What else did you do to my baby?” she asks in her irritated state.

  “Hang on. I'll show you since you're hell bent on ignoring my boss's rules around here.”

  “Then we're even since you people took it upon yourselves to do things to my baby that I. Didn't. Ask. For.”

  Lining up the creeper seat, I get on the ground and roll under the car from one side of the vehicle. From my spot near her, with our heads almost touching, I point out every part I worked on, how things were taken apart, and the brand of fluids used to either top up or empty and replace each line. By the time I've explained myself for keeping her car in tip top shape along with the reminder that I pretty much donated my time for the pure joy of doing so, her face softens a bit.

  She tilts her head to one side from her spot and gazes over at me.

  “Not bad. All right, you're off the hook. Looks like you know what you're doing.” She gives me a playful smile. “Thanks for not screwing anything up. Saves me from having to raise hell with the Better Business Bureau, or whatever the equivalent is for mechanics.”

  A small smile rises up my face. “I sure appreciate that, miss.” I take an extra few seconds to admire the incredible view down the opening of her blouse from this angle. What a sight, those perky nipples making an imprint on the soft fabric almost as much as the image is tattooed onto my brain.

  “Interesting,” she half-whispers thoughtfully out of the blue.

  “Sorry?”

  “The way you smiled just now... it doesn't quite reach your eyes. Actually, you have the eyes of a man… of someone who has no hope for the future. Who did you lose?”

  I flinch. My reaction is to the idea that this woman thinks she can take one look at me and believe she knows me. Even if it's all true. Or maybe it's the softness in her own eyes, almost pitying me when she has no idea who I am.

  “You barely know my name, lady. This is how I always smile.”

  The woman keeps staring. I can't handle that intense gaze a second longer, so I stretch out my feet and pull myself out from under the car. She does the same, emerging at the back of the car, eyes still boring a hole through me as I go back to the counter where I set down her keys.

  “By the way, I'm Amber. Amber Roberts. You got a name?” she asks from a few steps behind me, hot on my trail now.

  “Diesel.”

  “Diesel, huh? That's...fitting. Is that your real name?”

  Now that my guard is up, I ignore the question and pick up the set of keys. “I'll take the car off the lift. Meet me over at the reception desk in the customer waiting room. I'll get your bill together, Miss Roberts.”

  Amber with the spicy voice and hot lips that won't stop talking doesn't move off from where she stands. Thankfully, she's at a safe enough distance away for me that I can lower the car and activate the service bay vehicle doors. At that point, I hop into her car and back it out to the driveway. Despite how sexy she is, I'm not in the mood to be psychoanalyzed, and I'm sure as fuck not sharing my feelings with this mouthy, sassy woman.

  “I tend bar on Fourteenth Street part-time, you know,” she tells me as I head back inside. “Only when they’re short-handed. It used to be my father’s side business. Anyway, the point is, serving so many customers, well, I have a sense about some of them...if they don't tell me everything to begin with.”

  “I'm not one of your customers.” My voice is stiff bordering on rude, and dismissive as fuck. “It's the other way around.”

  “You'd be surprised what people tell me when the
y have some alcohol in their bellies,” she continues, on our way to cash her out.

  “That's different, a real estate agent working part time as a bartender.” I only mention it in the hopes that she'll back off prying into my personal life and focus on something else as I get behind the counter.

  She stops on the other side, facing me. “Real estate broker. I’m a co-owner.”

  “Then I can appreciate your taste in classic cars even more.” I nod but keep my focus on preparing her bill. Right up until she turns to face a chair behind her in the waiting room, and bends forward, digging around in her purse.

  Fuck. That tight, black pencil skirt shows off the perfectly round shape of her ass. I'm hypnotized, and so fucking hard, I'm willing to let the last ten minutes slide. Ready to ride the fuck out of her. The groan that leaves my throat comes out with no warning, forcing me to mask it as much as possible by clearing my throat.

  “It belonged to my dad,” she admits, her voice softening to a hush as she turns again to face me. I take her response to mean that she didn't notice the groan I made in appreciation of her full, firm ass. “He did the complete restoration years ago. It was his pet project at home. A labor of love, I guess you can call it. He did the entire restoration in the shed behind our garage where I grew up. It took him a good couple of years to finish.”

  “Your dad must be a generous guy, giving the car to you instead of enjoying it for himself after all that work.”

  “He is. He'd still have it now if it weren't for his age... and his health’s not like it used to be. Early onset dementia.”

  “Sorry to hear.”

  I hand her the printed invoice across the counter. The sadness on her face as she frowns gives her hazel eyes a greenish tint that wasn't there before.

  Amber slides a credit card across the counter. “It's life. People age.”

  Not all people. Some don’t make it past six years old.

  I swallow hard at my own dire thoughts. My sweet Cara with her gorgeous red curls and bright blue eyes won’t ever grow up to have her own slice of life. She won’t finish school, go to college, find love, have a husband or make babies of her own. Her life ended before it barely got out the gate. I grit my teeth without intending to. If I could replace my little girl’s life with my own, I’d have done it in a heartbeat instead of walking through the rest of mine like an empty shell.

  But looking at this woman as she shares what she’s going through with her father, I get her pain. Except she’s suffering a loss that may take years to reach its destination.

  I can’t imagine which is worse.

  A sigh escapes me as I reach out to accept Amber’s credit card. And I absently brush my rough fingers over the softness of her palm. The grief I’ve been mired in suddenly wanes with the spark of warmth that only comes from human touch.

  Human touch with this sassy vixen who has her own sad story to tell.

  Her eyes lift to meet mine, and without pulling her hand away, she gives me a sincere smile.

  “It gets better, eventually,” she adds in the kindest, most compassionate tone. It’s a whole other side of her, compared to the attitude she walked in with.

  “Possibly.” That’s the best I can offer given it’s been two years for me, and I’m yet to get past the all-encompassing grief. I shake my head and pass her card through the credit card machine on the counter. “This won’t be much longer.”

  She nods. “No worries.”

  My fingers tap the counter, my tension growing as we wait for the machine to spit out the receipt.

  “If you ever want to talk about it, you know where to find me,” she says

  Talking’s the last thing I’d want to do if I took the time to look her up.

  “Thanks.”

  She raises a brow at me. “I can tell you’re not one for sharing your feelings much. But you should think about it. The way that vein on your neck is throbbing, I’d say you’re overdue to get it out of your system. I really am a good listener.”

  I shrug and don’t know what comes over me when I reply with, “I lost my wife and young daughter to a drunk driver.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.” This time her hand covers mine on the counter, and she gives it a squeeze. “I can’t imagine…”

  “It was a couple of years back.” I’m strangely ready to say more, but the credit card machine starts to print her receipt with a jarring whir, ending the moment. I rip off the part she needs to sign and lay it on the counter between us, sliding her card and a pen over to her. “Well, thanks for your business,” I say instead.

  Amber picks up the pen and signs the slip, returning her card and the receipt to her purse. But she doesn’t leave when she’s done. She just keeps looking up at me as though still deep in thought.

  “Is there something else I can help you with, Miss?”

  No answer. She just stands there. Watching me. Assessing me. Who knows what’s on her mind. She’s clearly comfortable in her own skin, standing here facing me with nothing to say. Her eyes move up and down the length of my body, and she shifts her weight from one long, sexy leg to the next. It’s a hypnotizing temptation, but this isn’t the time or place to cross the line with a customer.

  “We really are closed now, Miss Roberts…unless there’s something else you’d like me to help you with.”

  “What else do you have in mind, Diesel?” she asks coyly.

  I smile. There’s a hell of a lot I can say to that. But I keep the auto shop innuendo to myself and just stand at the counter admiring her as she picks up her purse from the chair behind me and returns to the counter.

  I don’t need to have a wrench thrown at my head to know this leggy blonde is into me. She slides her fingers along the width of the counter, closing the distance to where my hand rests. Her red fingernails capture my attention, and I instantly picture those nails dragging along my back as I bury into her.

  Okay. I’ll play.

  “You’re one for playing with fire, aren’t you?” I ask.

  She throws me a playful wink. “Only because I’m pretty sure you know your way around a girl’s…clutch.”

  I walk around the counter, not in the least bit worried about my job now that she’s given me such a clear invitation. Leaning forward, I whisper just inches from her ear, “I think you’d like it when I get under the hood and put in my dipstick.”

  Fuck, I bet she wasn’t expecting me to go there. She lets out a sexy moan, and my dick stiffens.

  “Or I could turn you around and take care of that junk in your trunk.”

  She doesn’t say a word, but she doesn’t have too. The lust in her eyes says enough, on top of the intense heat between us. Then Amber giggles a little, and fingers the top button of her blouse. It feels like a big win when she finally makes the first move to touch me. Lifting a hand, she slides her fingers over my forearm, creating a trail of wicked heat in their wake.

  “I’d love to see you try…if you have enough torque to handle me, big boy.”

  We’re past go, and we both know it. Neither of us is ready to relent. Unblinking, I retort, “Once I have your juices flowing, it’ll be more than enough to get your gears going. Don’t worry, little lady. I’ll flood your system until you’re purring.”

  A near purr escapes from her throat. Her eyes dip down to my Adam’s apple and back up. She nods her head and stifles a laugh as she presses both palms against my chest. We’re close enough to kiss, so close I can smell the faint perfume on her skin, so close I can see the flecks of green and gold in her eyes.

  I’m drawn into her magnetic gaze and realize I’m trailing a rough, calloused hand up her arm. Electricity sparks through the air around us as my hand reaches into her hair, my body tense from being so close to this woman. I slip the pads of my fingers to the back of her neck, caressing the smoothness of her skin. Neither of us has a thing more to say. All this physical attraction and lust are begging for an outlet, a release, an outcome, and that doesn’t include talking.


  The way she licks her lips now tell me she needs this too. I can tell. How? By the look in her eyes. The pursing of her lips. The slightest of sway in her hips. The rise and fall of her chest so close to mine. Sure, I’ve been out of the game for a while, but I’m not fucking stupid. I can read the signs.

  Amber’s eyes roam down between our bodies, stopping at my groin area for a moment. Which isn’t a surprise given that my erection has caused the fabric to bulge. She licks her lips, eyes fixed on my bulge and when I almost can't take it anymore, I'm relieved to find that she can't either. Amber slides a hand down from my chest, slowly making a trail down over my abs, outlining each ridge through my bulky clothes until her palm curves itself over my cock.

  That does it. What happens next is one hundred percent fair game. My cock has been awake since the second she walked in. Now that she’s touched the beast, it's only fair that I get to touch back—wherever I want, as hard and deep as I need to.

  I don’t think. I act.

  With a hand still at the base of her neck, I pull her toward me and crash my mouth to hers. Our rough kiss is just the beginning. Parting her lips, I find her tongue with mine, tasting and teasing her, demanding more. I cup her breasts with my hand, then slide past the open buttons of her shirt and run my rough palm over her nipple. The need to taste and suck each nipple is overpowering. Soon my head is buried between her ample breasts, breathing her in as I nuzzle my face into the sweet, sweet valley that has tantalized me since she walked in and ducked under the car.

  She moans out a whimper and her breath then catches as I suck one nipple in between my lips. Then I move to the other, letting her know without words that I won’t let up until I’ve had all of her. I won’t be able to take my time with all this fierce five-alarm fire between us now, but maybe this heavy dose of instant chemistry and animal attraction marks round one of many, many more. Because I want a taste of every inch of her.

  Sweeping her up in my arms, I lift her up onto the counter and push the credit card machine and collection of pens out of the way. It doesn’t register whether or not they fall off the counter or hit the floor. All I can focus on is Amber.