The Mechanic and The Princess: a bad boy new adult romance novel

by London Casey

  “So that’s all it took to bring you to life, huh? A beautiful woman?”

  Jesse let out a bark without opening his mouth.

  I nodded.

  “Yeah, I know the feeling.” I looked forward at the chair where Olivia had been sitting. “I know the feeling. I feel alive too…”

  I grabbed an old flannel from the back of my closet. I found a pair of sweatpants too that had ties so Olivia could try and see if they’d fit her. She was going to look really goofy but whatever, right? She’d get her expensive clothes washed and dried and then be back to her normal image.

  Or at least she could sleep in the flannel and then raid Nikki’s stuff tomorrow. I was not going to go through the stuff she left behind in the other room. Last thing I needed was to find a picture of Luke or something private of hers.

  So I exited my bedroom holding my clothes that were for Olivia’s body.

  When I got to the spare bedroom, the door was half open.

  I paused and thought about knocking, or just dropping the clothes.

  Then I saw her.

  She was standing in front of the dresser. I saw the black straps of her bra. Down the small of her back to her…

  I turned my head.

  No, Gavin, don’t do that. Don’t do it this way.

  I swallowed and then lifted my right hand and knocked at the door.

  “Hey, Olivia. I brought some-”

  “Come in, Gavin,” she said, her voice soft.

  I gritted my teeth. “Are you…”

  “No,” she quickly said. “Come in. Please.”

  I put my right foot into the room first and gently nudged the door open. It gave out a small squeak, just like every old door in the old house.

  I had the flannel and pants in my right hand, clutched tight.

  Olivia just stood there. Her clothes piled on the floor next to her.

  I stopped for a moment and stared at her again.

  The way her shoulders were slender, curling around to her arms. The perfect curve of her hips, the way her black panties seemed to match her black bra. The way her panties cupped her ass but not all the way.

  I gritted my teeth again. It had been a little while since the last time I… you know.

  I turned my head for a second and tossed the clothes to the bed.

  My mind told me to talk. To say something. To try and break up the temptation and the silence.

  But face it, we weren’t here for that.

  Olivia looked back at me. The way her brown hair, still slightly damp, a little messy, sort of hid her face drove me wild. She then smirked, knowing damn well my eyes were taking a long walk up and down her body over and over. So much, so fast, if I had my boots on they would have had holes in the bottoms already.

  Not to mention what was happening in my jeans. I was thick, filling up thicker, uncomfortable.

  She reached back and grabbed at her bra. With a quick twist of her hands, the strap came undone. Olivia put her hands to her sides and looked forward again.

  I stepped forward. I didn’t stop until I was right behind her. Able to reach out and touch her. Of all the places to begin this wild journey that I figured would only end in heartbreak, I touched her shoulders. It was like touching silk. My fingertips then ran down her back as she shivered against my touch. I eased down to where her bra strap had been closed. My hands demanded I touch her waist, feel those beautiful curves, which I did. I then leaned forward and pressed my lips against her right shoulder blade. I nuzzled my nose against her skin, smelling her, something so fucking beautiful it almost made me feel guilty.

  Her hands reached back and grabbed for my jeans. Her fingers clutching at the front pockets, pulling. When my body collided with hers, she moved to her toes for a second and let out a purring sigh. She felt how hard I was because of her.

  I kissed her again and again, trailing up to her shoulder and over just a little.

  She tilted her head to the left, exposing her neck to me.

  I growled gently as I kissed my way to her neck. My tongue then flicked against her skin, tasting her. My lips closed together and pulled back with a wet smack.

  Olivia then turned her head, facing me.

  There were a few seconds when we just stared at each other.

  Fuck, the feelings were there. I felt something in my chest that I hadn’t felt in a long damn time.

  My hands then moved up and around her body. I felt the swell of her breasts as my hands cupped her. She put her head back and groaned. Fuck. My hands squeezed, feeling her beauty in my hands. Her nipples were erect against my hands, their sweet roughness like my fingertips. I slowly moved my hands to strip her bra from her, watching it fall to the floor.

  Olivia kept a firm grip on the pockets of my jeans. She didn’t want to get away. She didn’t want me to stop. And I had no fucking intentions of stopping. In some ways I was still pissed off at her. In other ways, I didn’t give a shit. This was about the moment we had in front of us.

  Right outside the window there was a flash of lightning.

  Olivia gasped and jumped.

  “It’s okay, darling,” I whispered, my breath to her bare neck. My hands were spread wide against her belly, feeling her heavy breathing, keeping her body tight to mine. “I won’t let the storm get you.”

  It felt like the right thing to say even if it had more than one meaning.

  I took a step and turned Olivia so she was facing the mirror attached to the dresser. I saw her breasts in the reflection. Yeah, that’s where my eyes went. I was a guy after all. And she was fucking gorgeous. Her breasts were slender, not small, not big. Her nipples were tiny and puckered tight, like two very small fingers pointing forward.

  I brought my right hand up and moved over her breast. With my middle finger I flicked at her nipple just to see and feel her reaction.

  She groaned. She slithered her body against me. My dick was raging inside my jeans, wanting out. Wanting the attention Olivia’s sultry stare was promising.

  My left hand then began its descent. Fingertips touching the rough laced edges of the panties. Sliding down inside them. Feeling warmth. Feeling smooth skin. Gritting my teeth for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

  Olivia put her head back and turned her head. I kept my stare forward, memorizing every inch of her body in the reflection of the mirror with my eyes and memorizing every inch I was touching with my hands.

  The moment my middle finger eased around her soft center, Olivia let out a whimpering sound. Then I felt her lips kiss my neck. My scruffy neck. She kissed it.

  I pressed my finger against her clit, gently rubbing right to left.

  Her entire body tightened as she bit at me.

  I groaned under my breath.

  She kept breathing, moaning, kissing and nibbling at me.

  My finger moved down some more as I felt her warm entrance. She was as wet as the rain that was still coming down outside. I thrust my finger and she welcomed me. The wild heat and tightness that surrounded my finger as I sank into her. I made a wide circle and eased back out only to repeat the move again.

  I loved watching the reflection of it all.

  I had her. I fucking had her.

  Her right hand moved from the pocket of my jeans right to the middle of my jeans. Her small hand grabbing at the oversized bulge.

  “Oh, fuck,” she whispered, her breath hitting my neck.

  I curled my lip. I added a second finger to her silk, pressing the two of them into her.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Gavin… take me…”

  Her hand squeezed tighter at me. Grabbing, pulling, trying to stroke me over my jeans.

  I took my fingers from her beautiful sex. I slid my other hand down from her breast. I eased my hands along her curvy hips, sliding her panties down just enough to expose all of her.

  Then in a quick move, I spun her around.

  She was then facing me, her hands grabbing at my shoulders.

  Then in a fury as wil
d as thunder and lightning, I took a small step back and grabbed for the bottom of my shirt. I ripped it over my head as her hands grabbed at my jeans. It was as though we were racing against the clock, against the idea that we could think about what we were about to do and regret it.

  My shirt hit the floor and I grabbed at Olivia’s hands, tearing them away from my jeans. I spun both of us around then so her back was toward the bed. She kicked her way out of her panties and I dropped my jeans and boxers.

  The second her hand touched my hard thickness, I sucked in a breath.

  I grabbed her wrist and pulled her away. My other hand then reached around and grabbed at her ass. I pressed forward, forcing her back, until she collapsed down to the bed. My hand, still holding her wrist, pinned that arm down.

  I hovered over her, the woman called The Princess. She was beautiful, rich, and could have any man in the world. And yet she stared back at a dirty mechanic like me. Her left leg hooking to the back of my legs.

  Biting her bottom lip, nodding.

  “Fuck, darling,” I whispered.

  “Now,” she purred. “Right now, Gavin.”

  I moved down and brushed my lips against hers.

  I brought my lower half down to her body. I felt her hand suddenly touch me below my stomach, her nails digging at me.

  “Tell me what you want, darling,” I said. I kissed her lips. “Whatever you want… need…”

  “I said right now,” she whispered and gently lifted herself to touch me.

  I groaned as I thrust forward, sinking in to her.

  She let out a cry as a crack of thunder smacked right above my house.

  She threw her hands around me, clutching my back. My hands grabbed at her hips, feeling how perfect she was, inside and out.

  Our mouths were open, touching, not kissing.

  Our eyes were open, staring, realizing…

  … something wild was happening for real.

  Thirteen

  The Talk

  (Olivia)

  When Gavin lifted me into his arms, I looked at the floor to my clothes and I smiled. I had gone into the spare bedroom with intentions I never thought would actually happen. His arms were so big and so beautifully strong. I felt warm, safe, and protected in his arms.

  “Darling, your clothes,” he whispered.

  “I don’t care,” I said. “I’ll buy new ones.”

  Gavin walked us from that room to his bedroom. The funny thing was the second he opened the door to his bedroom I could smell him. This intense smell of the garage, soap, a manly, muscle smell that went through me like fire. The room was dark and cool, the windows lighting up with the flickering of the passing storm. The lightning had become less frequent and the thunder slowly rolling out and away.

  I ended up in his bed, under the covers, my head on his chest.

  There was a flash of lightning again.

  Then Gavin started to whisper. “One. Two. Three. Four…”

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “You count the seconds between lightning and thunder. Each second is a mile. That’s so you know if the storm is coming or going.”

  “Really? That’s true?”

  “I think,” Gavin said. “That’s what I was told.”

  “Are you afraid of storms?”

  Gavin grinned. “Darling, I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “Oh, right, tough guy talk.”

  Gavin sighed. “Luke was. When he was a kid. He would come hide in my room with me. And I would make him count with me. Then we would know when the storm was going to get louder and when it was leaving. When I first got Jesse, as a puppy, he was afraid too. So I’d sit there and hold him, counting the seconds. Dumb shit in life, Liv.”

  “No, it’s the good shit in life,” I whispered. “And I really like when you call me Liv.”

  Gavin touched my face. “Right. Do you have any dumb shit in life?”

  “There’s one thing…”

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “You think I’m going to judge you?”

  “No,” I said. “It’s just…”

  “Then tell me.”

  “Fine. I live in a really expensive apartment in the city. Way up in the air. I also have a house outside the city. Where all the rich people live to pretend they’re in a town.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “I don’t think it is. But that’s not the story. Not the dumb thing. The dumb thing… at night. I sometimes stand at the window if I’m at my apartment and I watch the other buildings. I look at the lights. I think about who is in there. Maybe workers trying to do maintenance or cleaning the offices. I picture a woman trying to work hard to pay for her kids. I picture her kids at home, tucked in, sleeping, not realizing how hard their mother is working for them. Or if I’m driving, I look at the houses. I look at the lights again. I picture a family. Mom, Dad, kids. Just a regular family in a regular house.”

  “That’s not dumb at all, darling,” Gavin said. “I think we all want that.”

  “But it feels wrong, Gavin. All that I have and I want more?”

  “That’s human nature. Plus, there’s a big separation between cash in your bank account and love in your heart.”

  I felt my stomach flutter. How could this rough and tough mechanic say something like that? It was like jagged poetry coming from his mouth.

  “You miss your mother, huh?”

  “I do, but I never knew her, so it’s hard to miss…”

  “You miss what could have been,” Gavin said. “I miss what should have been.”

  “Damn,” I whispered. “That’s good.”

  I put a finger to his chest. I trailed a line down, feeling the roundness of his hard chest. When I touched the first ripple of stomach muscle, I reversed my move, touching his chest again, and then his neck. My fingers scratched into the scruff on his face.

  “Want to know something else about me?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  “I’ve never woken up to the sun on my face.”

  “What?”

  “My apartment… it has mechanical windows.”

  “What?”

  I laughed. “The blinds are mechanical. Set to timers. So they open and close either when I want or when they’re scheduled. So I wake up and it’s still dark in the room. Then the windows open. So, yeah, I see the sun, but I never open my eyes to the window… seeing the sun rising up… feeling the day starting… it’s stupid, right?”

  “No,” Gavin said. “It’s weird though.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Mechanical windows?”

  “Yeah. It’s a thing.”

  “So rich people can’t just pull on a blind? Or twist to open and shut the blind?”

  “Shut up, Gavin,” I teased. “It’s dumb. I hate it. But it’s my life. I wish I could just wake up to the sun spreading across my face.”

  “So for as rich as you are, it’s… it’s like you haven't experienced life, huh?”

  “Just a different kind of life, Gavin.”

  “Right. Your story is something, Liv.”

  “There’s more to your story, isn’t there?” I asked.

  “I’m an open book.”

  “No you’re not,” I said. “Everything you told me tonight. There’s more to it. And why did you tell me? I mean, you took off, I chased after you, and now we’re… here.”

  “There was a kid in school,” Gavin said. “I considered him the rich kid. For his birthday one year he got a new bike. This fucking thing was amazing. All black. Orange zigzags on it, right? The coolest bike I ever saw. That year for my birthday? I got nothing. I got a card from Luke. He stole a piece of blue construction paper from school, folded it in half, and wrote Happy Birthday on it. Except he forgot the t. And for Luke that year he was going to get the shaft too but I did something stupid. That rich kid? I waited for him one day after school. I basically jumped him and threatened to take his bike. I wanted money. So h
e gave me what he had. Ten bucks. I used that ten bucks to buy Luke two action figures. I hated myself for what I did to that rich kid. He never talked about it. I never talked to him again. But that feeling of jealousy… I saw that in you, Liv. I mean, here’s this beautiful woman crashing into my life and then you have another reason to be there.”

  “Which isn’t true,” I said. “My father cornered me about his plans. I stood up to him. It’s going to be tricky to figure out but we will. I will, Gavin. I won’t let anything happen to you and this town.”

  “Why? Your job is to do this, right?”

  “Not like this.”

  “Why?” he asked again, a little louder.

  There was a flash of lightning.

  I swallowed hard.

  “Because I like you, Gavin. I care about you. I feel something. You make me feel like a real person. Okay? Everything in my life is designed. The clothes I wear. The way my hair is done. The way my makeup has to match my clothes or the way my bracelet matches my earrings. And nothing is ever mine even though I can afford it, okay? Everything I say is predetermined. Even the guy I’m supposed to be with…”

  “So you’re breaking some guy’s heart right now?”

  “I don’t care,” I said. “That’s what you do to me, Gavin. I feel like I can be me around you. And this is me.”

  “Naked?”

  I heard the soft rumble of thunder. “Twenty.”

  “Huh?”

  “Twenty seconds,” I said. “Lightning. Thunder.”

  “So I guess it’s safe to say the storm has passed,” Gavin said with a grin.

  I kissed his chest and shook my head. I threw my leg around his body and moved my body on top of his. “Maybe we can make our own storm?”

  Gavin grabbed me and rolled me to my side and then he was on top of me. Taking charge. Forever surprising me. Nothing with him was predetermined. Nothing was scheduled. He just lived to live. To survive. To capture every moment in life.

  Which was exactly what I wanted.

  My nails scratched at his muscular back as his eyes locked to mine.

  A second before he entered me for the second time that night, a thought popped into my head.