Page 43 of Happy Hour

“I think I need to check the bearing alignment.” His lips found mine. “I seem to be experiencing some...thermal expansion.”

He didn’t give me time to respond before picking me up and carrying me over to the front of his race car.

In the process of doing this, he knocked over a drip pan and we slipped in the spilled oil, landing against the hood.

Jameson looked down at my jeans that now had oil covering them, giving me a lopsided grin. “Look at that, those are ruined.” He mused. “You’ll have to take them off.”

Moments later there I was, pit lizard style, spread out on the hood of his race car, naked, my bare ass sitting directly on his Simplex logo and damn happy about it.

He removed his black sweatshirt and t-shirt, oil smudges smeared across his jaw.

Just when I figured he was going to drop his pants, he surprised me, flashing a wicked smile. Pulling my hips the nose of the car, he dropped to his knees.

Sweet Jesus.

“In order to properly check the bearings...Ineedto do some deburring of the crankcase.”

He’s going to kill me with all this car talk!

Leaning forward so his lips were on the inside of my thigh, he took in a deep breath and then placed slow deliberate kisses along each thigh, groaning a loud luscious groan. “I can’t wait to taste you.” His voice alone is enough to put me into overdrive.

In my head, for some reason, I was singing Nine Inch Nails,Closer.

Me, and others at times, find this somewhat concerning but in addition to inappropriate giggling, I hear music in my head at the mostinappropriatetimes.

Panting uncontrollably, I threw my head back against the hood and stretched my arms up against the Lexan windshield, already so close with just fingers.

As soon as his mouth replaced his fingers, I was no longer in control of my body movements.

Jameson roughly grabbed both legs near the tops of my thighs and pulled me closer to him with a low growl.

As good as that felt Ireallywanted him, now, after that reaction.

“Jameson,please...” I moaned.

He chuckled against me. “Please what?” he grunted.

I whimpered. “Inside...need you...inside.”

I was amazed I could even string the words together to form that sentence, given it wasn’t complete, but I shouldn’t expect so much from myself.

“Ah, not yet honey.” He murmured in that signature raspy velvet voice. He continued his ministrations until I was literally screaming his name once again today.

I was trembling, panting, quivering, shivering, and shaking; whatever verb you want to use...I was in a complete disarray on the hood of Jameson Riley’s race car while he tended to my crankcase as if it’s the holy fucking grail.

Just when I thought I’ve died and gone to heaven, he pulled away, stood up, slowly drew his bottom lip between his teeth and dropped his jeans to the ground.

I got a glimpse of the lust driven thirst, with his eyes that were mean enough to scare a wild animal as he crawled on the hood and inched up my body as if he was hunting his prey.

Hot damn.

What did I say in that moment?

“Roarrrr!” Complete with a hand gesture.

Yep, in that momentthat’swhat I chose to say.

Why you ask? Because I’m inappropriate and that’s how I rolled. I was just amazed I didn’t belt out the lyrics to him.

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