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Dirty Deeds (Mechanics of Love #3)(22)

By:Megan Erickson


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.

He didn’t find it amusing how badly he wanted her, how he was falling so hard for her after their shared confessions. This was so much, too much, this craving he had for the crazy sprite.

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.