Page 31 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

“You want some water?” he asked, his voice rougher than before.

I shook my head. I didn’t want water.

I didn’t want anything butthis.

I took a step forward.

So did he.

I wasn’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter.

One second, we were staring at each other, tension thick and unspoken. The next, his hands were on my waist, and his mouth was on mine.

The kiss was nothing like I expected. It wasn’t hesitant or soft. It was hungry, like he’d been holding back all night and finally decided to stop.

I let out a quiet gasp as his grip tightened, pulling me flush against him. His body was solid, warm,right.

He tasted like whiskey and something darker, something dangerous.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I should pull away.

But when his teeth scraped against my bottom lip, when his hands slid up my back, when he growled low in his throat.

I melted.

I dug my fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss, losing myself in the way he felt, the way he made me feel.

Wanted.

Desired.

Special.

And when I finally broke away, breathless and wide-eyed, he just stared at me, his chest rising and falling like he was barely holding himself together.

“Aurora,” he murmured, his voice wrecked.

I swallowed. “Yeah?”

He exhaled sharply, like he was deciding something. Then, slowly, his lips brushed against my forehead.

“Stay.”

And damn me.

Because I wanted to.

Owen stood there, watching me, his chest rising and falling in steady, deep breaths. His eyes—those stormy blue eyes—burned with something I wasn’t ready to name, something dark and smoldering.

Something that sent a shiver down my spine.

He was waiting.

Not pressuring. Not demanding. Just waiting for me to make the next move.

So I did.

I reached for the hem of my top, peeling it over my head and letting it drop to the floor.

---