Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
He smirked. “The motor, yes. I’m doing a swap, and this one is a bit bigger than what was originally in there. Less room for delicate maneuvering like reaching a bolt that is wedged in there even with the motor that was previously in there. Let alone this one.”
I smiled. “I have skinny hands. And I’m wearing crappy clothes that needed thrown away last year.”
Or even longer than that, if I had to be honest with myself. I wasn’t one to buy new clothes unnecessarily. And since no one usually saw me in my night clothes, or the clothes I wore around the house, they had seen better days.
“Skinny hands?” He chuckled.
I wiggled my hands for emphasis.
He caught my hand with one of his dirty ones, then with a grin, he whirled me around to lay backward on top of him, then went back under the car.
Honestly, it was a tight fit with both of us, but with the car partially in the air—which I now noticed was on bright yellow jacks—we made it.
“I have no clue what I’m looking at,” I admitted. “Everything looks the same.”
He snorted. “This is the transmission.” He touched the transmission with his hand while the other hand was plastered to my belly to hold me in place as he continued to move. “This is what I’m having trouble with, right here.”
I watched as he reached up, his fingers barely reaching a bolt that was sticking out of the motor at an awkward angle.
“This is the nut that needs to go on it,” he said as he held it up with a big, greasy hand.
I wiggled my bottom in excitement, only then noticing that there was a very hard column of muscle underneath my ass cheeks that was most assuredly not there when I first lay down.
I smiled as I said, “Let me try to reach it.”
I wiggled my fingers for the bolt, and he dropped it into the palm of my hand.
Then he practically bench pressed me so that I could reach the bolt.
I found it and got it on only after dropping the bolt on top of him twice.
“Done!” I cried.
He dropped me back to his chest with a grunt, then reached for a tool I hadn’t seen laying there until now.
He then tightened the bolt to within an inch of its life, then pushed us back out from underneath the car.
The moment that we got free of the undercarriage, he moved me so that I was laying with my front to his front.
Oh, and he took control of the kissing, pressing his greasy, dirty hands against my face and holding me exactly where he wanted me.
By the time he pulled away, I knew that it’d been the right decision to kiss him earlier.
This man… he literally made my heart beat wild.
“All that for a bolt?” I teased.
“All that for the woman that makes me fuckin’ happy,” he disagreed. “You’re a mess.”
I smiled. “I guess I’m your mess then.”
And I was.
I would be until he no longer wanted me anymore.
He moved me until I was pressed up against his thick erection, then lifted up letting me know exactly what was on his mind then, even before he said what he said next.
“I can make you even messier,” he teased.
I licked my lips, which happened to be close to his, and ended up licking them both.
He caught the tip of my tongue with his mouth and teased it.
But my rational brain was already disagreeing with what we were doing. The visions of UTIs and infections danced in my brain.
“Your hands are really dirty,” I told him. “And so are mine. If we continue, we’re going to have to go wash up.”
He chuckled as he moved, pulling me to straddle his thighs so he could yank his pants down far enough for his cock to jut free.
“I don’t need hands,” he growled. “I’ll bet you’re wet for me. I’ll slide right inside.”
If he wanted to gamble on his guess, he’d win the freakin’ jackpot.
I was so wet for him that I was all but wetting my underwear.
It would be so embarrassing if it wasn’t for him.
But it was.
“I still have pants on.”
They were shitty, thin pants, but still, they were a barrier that was keeping us separated.
In the next second, I didn’t.
My thighs were dirty from the brush of his fingers, but overall, when he filled me in the next second, he didn’t touch a single body part below the belt.
I gasped, my neck arching, as he entered me all the way. No hang-ups, no resistance, no nothing but smooth advancement.
“So wet,” he growled. “Knew you would be.”
I dug my fingers into his hair, then slowly started to arch my ass back and forth.
The creeper underneath my knees dug in awkwardly, and my left knee was on mostly concrete, but it didn’t matter.