Asking for Trouble

She ignored the ridiculous flutter in her belly. “Why, Brent, I believe you just paid me some sort of awkward compliment.”

“Not how I meant it. They’d probably whistle at just about anything on two legs.”

“You are an enormous dick.”

“Correction. I have an enormous—”

She hung up.

…

Brent checked his phone again, wondering what the hell was taking Hayden so long to get there. More than likely, she was tooling around this less-than-stellar neighborhood in her Mercedes without a care in the world. He still couldn’t believe he’d given her the address to the garage. No one knew about his second job. Not even Daniel and Matt. She hadn’t given him much of a choice, however, and now he’d have to deal with her condescension on top of everything else.

He rolled out from under a Cadillac and glanced toward the entrance. No luxury car in sight. He pushed to his feet and made for the bathroom, intending to clean some of the grease off before she showed. No reason to hand her any more insult material than she already had. When he flipped on the overhead light, he looked in the mirror and shook his head. She would have a field day seeing him like this, in stained coveralls and an ancient, backward Mets hat. He flipped on the water, watching as it filled the sink, but cut it off just as quickly.

Fuck this. He wasn’t going to clean himself up for her. Putting on a fancy suit for tonight was one thing. After all, it would be worth it to see Hayden’s reaction when he didn’t require a lobster bib to keep it clean. But right now, he refused to hide the fact that he worked for a living. Had no reason to be ashamed of the fact that he got his hands dirty to support himself, his family.

His brother, Jordan, had just extended his tour overseas. The army only partially covered Brent’s sister-in-law’s expenses. They needed the extra money to keep both Brent’s and Laurie’s houses running while his brother was gone. His sister, Lucy, had a tuition payment coming due next week that his paycheck from the NYPD wouldn’t completely cover. Then the mortgage. The list went on.

Brent heard a series of catcalls through the thin wooden door and cursed. She couldn’t listen to him this one damn time, could she? He yanked open the door and stormed into the garage, the look on his face instantly silencing every vile thing being tossed in Hayden’s direction. One by one, each mechanic promptly went back to work. They were smarter than he’d given them credit for. Finally, he turned to find Hayden standing at the entrance, her gaze fixed on him, mouth parted in a silent O.

He devoured her with a single glance, taking in black high heels, opaque stockings, and the short, tight gray dress she wore. He couldn’t help it. Or look away. Couldn’t stop his body’s instant reaction. Last night, he’d been too busy slaking the unattended hunger she’d stirred up to think about the repercussions of their actions. Now he couldn’t think of anything but getting her out of her clothes. Seeing her in those stockings. Was she wearing that garter belt again? Jesus, she’d made him hard from twenty yards away. If she knew how bad he wanted her, she would dangle herself in front of him like forbidden fruit every chance she got, just to torture him.

With one last warning glance at the other men, Brent closed the distance between them. He took her by the arm and pulled her toward the office located at the front of the garage. When they were inside, he slammed the door shut behind them and faced her.

“Well, good afternoon to you, too.”

“I asked you to stay in your car.”

“Since when do I follow orders from you?” She hung the gold-crested nylon garment bag she held on the back of the door. “Besides, I called you twice and it went to voice mail.”

With a frown, he checked his pockets. Shit, he’d left his phone behind when he went to the bathroom. Still, he’d only been in there two minutes. “God forbid you be patient and wait. I know waiting for anything must be a foreign concept to a rich girl like you.”

“Kind of like a shower is a foreign concept to you?”

“I work for a living, duchess,” he said, taking a step closer, annoyed by the fact that she smelled so good, so expensive. “You should try it sometime.”

Brent had the satisfaction of seeing her features cloud before she once again schooled them into a cool expression. She eyed the embroidered name patch on his jumpsuit. “I thought you were just helping out a friend. They just happened to have yeti-sized coveralls lying around with your name on them?”

“I help out a lot.”

“Oh.”

He could tell by her unconvinced tone that she didn’t believe him. He’d been caught. Worse, she looked…concerned. Not exactly pitying him, just sympathizing over his need to work a second job. He didn’t want it. Not from her. With a final step forward, Brent backed her into the desk. “You seem mighty interested in my work clothes. Thinking of the fastest way to get them off?”

When he grasped her hips and boosted her onto the desk, her breathing went shallow. “I didn’t come down here to get pawed by your greasy mechanic hands.”

“Why did you come down here?”

“To drop off your suit.”

He leaned in and kissed the skin beneath her ear. “Is that what you told yourself, baby?”

“Don’t call me that,” she turned her head away, gave a halfhearted push against his chest. “What exactly are we doing here? We can barely tolerate each other. This is only going to make things more difficult.”

“Is that enough to stop you?” He rested his hands on her legs and drew lazy circles with his thumbs on the inside of her thighs. When they inched just a little wider, he knew that she liked it. Feeling surprise when she didn’t protest the touch of his dirty hands, he slipped his thumbs higher, just beneath the hem of her dress. “Would you like me to tell you what I did last night when I got home?”

“No.” She shivered. “Yes.”

Brent chuckled quietly, but it came out sounding pained. “I took off my clothes and lay down on my stomach in bed. Then I wrapped your silk panties around my hand and f**ked them.”

When Hayden moaned and parted her legs further, he had to bite back the urge to yank her off the desk, turn her around, and push the skirt up over her ass. Jesus. Where the hell am I taking this? Am I going to f**k her on a desk in a filthy garage? On a desk that isn’t even mine? It would definitely give the other mechanics something to catcall about, because if he let this encounter go on any further, she’d be moaning loud enough to shake the ceiling.

With a massive case of reluctance, he pushed her knees back together. When she started to voice a protest, he silenced her with his mouth, surprising them both. He gave in to the urge and parted her lips with his tongue, and took a brief but thorough taste. Slanted his mouth once, twice until he felt her melt. Then with a frustrated sigh, he pulled back.

When he saw her eyes were still closed, something lodged in his throat. Something he didn’t like one bit. “Hey, rich girl. Wake up.”

Her big brown eyes popped open and for one brief, intense second, he didn’t have any choice but to kiss her again. Could think of nothing else but finding out if there was something more behind that dazed expression. Gently, he drew on her bottom lip, before giving the fuller top one the same treatment. When her eyelids fluttered, he melded their mouths together, surprised to hear the slow, contented noise issuing from both of their throats.