Brainy smurf. It wasn’t even Smurfette.
When Maggie came in, I almost gave her a hug to thank her. Brin had been on top of me, her thighs parted as she put herself right on top of my hard-as-a-rock dick. Neither of us mentioned what she had to be feeling, and every time she rocked forward, trying to put that damn cheesecake in my mouth, my cock tried to spring free from my jeans.
I ate the damn bite, hoping that would get her off me before I exploded in my jeans like an unpracticed virgin. I can’t remember the last time that something so small left me so damn twisted up.
“No briefcase,” I murmur at last, shifting uncomfortably when my damn cock starts to press against my zipper.
She shrugs, looking bored as she slowly gets off my desk. I bite back a groan when the shorts she is wearing slide up as she slides down. What the fuck is going on?
“It must be in my room then.”
She starts walking toward me, and I walk around, trying to keep my body angled away from her. I lower myself to the chair, happy to have my hard-on hidden—
“What the hell?” I yelp as I crash to the floor.
My decimated chair lies in shambles around me as I groan and try to get up. But the hellacious laughter rings out as I peek up from beside the desk to see the face of my enemy.
She uncurls her hand to reveal all my chair’s screws, and she giggles loudly while bringing them over to the desk and putting them down.
“That’s for leaving my mouth red and for making me beg last night,” she gloats.
A throat clearing from behind her startles her into a squeal. A very amused Wrench stands in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, and doing all he can to restrain the insuppressible grin on his face.
“Beg for cheesecake,” she adds quickly, horrified. “And it was food dye. That’s why my mouth was red.”
Her cheeks turn a harsh pink, and I laugh while climbing back up to my feet. Wrench hides his grin with his hand as his body shakes with repressed laughter.
Brin’s face turns all the redder, and she rocks back and forth on her heels and toes, looking longingly toward the exit.
“I uh... I... I’m just going to go... die now,” she says before darting out the door, hiding her face all the way out.
I just laugh harder as Wrench stares expectantly at me, lowering his hand from his mouth to reveal his shit-eating grin.
“The Camry owner, I presume,” he says with thick condescension.
“Yeah. My neighbor.”
His laughter sneaks out as he comes to sit down in front of my desk.
“When I was fixing the rear, I noticed the black paint. Perfect match to your Porsche that you brought in all banged up. Did you hit her or something?”
I scowl at him. “No. She ran over my parked car.”
His confusion is warranted. I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth.
“And you’re paying for the damages on her car because?” he asks, prying.
“Because she has liability only.”
I’d like to knock that smirk off his face. He’s lucky he’s the best mechanic I’ve ever known.
“And?” he asks slowly.
“And I shouldn’t have to justify any of my actions in my own garage,” I growl.
He laughs while holding his hands up defensively. “Sorry. Chill. I get it.”
Gets what?
“Why did you come up here?” I ask, annoyed at this point.
“To tell you I’ve done all I can do until the other parts get here. I’m heading out. You staying? I can work on something else if you want.”
“Nah. I’m about to head out, too. You had to work all weekend. After the car is finished, you can take off for a few days. On me.”
His mocking grin is still pissing me off. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
A text buzzes in, but I ignore it when I see my dad’s name on the screen. He must be getting married. Again. That’s the fourth text this week.
Wrench walks out as my eyes move to the window. I don’t want to deal with my father or his bridezilla right now. I have no desire to go back to that damn house for any reason.
I need a distraction.
The pet shop is right next door, and my distraction is served up on platter.
***
RYE
“So this one isn’t venomous?” I ask as the snake slithers over the guy’s hand, acting like a calm, gentle serpent. That almost sounds like an oxymoron.
“Nope,” he says, making the word pop as he smacks his gum.
“What happens if it bites?” I ask, now second guessing my master plan.
“Feels like the prick from a briar. No big deal.”
That’s not so bad. Besides, this thing seems so docile. “I’ll take it.”
He puts the green snake into a sack that resembles burlap material, but softer, and then he ties it at the top.