Page 12 of Wicked Sinner
Okay now, Bridget,I tell myself as I come down from the orgasm, leaning back into the hot water as I reach for myshampoo and start to work it through my hair with more force than necessary.You had your fun. Now move on.
He might have been all muscles and tattoos, piercings and sexy nicknames in Italian—I think it was Italian, anyway—but he’s trouble I don’t need. And a distraction I don’t need, on top of that.
By the time I'm dressed and ready for work, I've almost convinced myself that I'm over it. That last night was just a blip, a moment of temporary insanity that I can file away as a good memory and move on from.
Almost.
I shove a microwaved breakfast burrito into my mouth, eating as I head out to the garage, thankful that I don’t have a commute, at least. I got to sleep in this morning because I only have to walk to the other side of the house and out the side door, and I’m at work.
The garage feels different when I walk into it. I can't help but look at the bay where his Ferrari was parked, where he bent me over the hood and made me scream his name. The concrete floor where I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth, where he made me feel things I didn't know I was capable of feeling.
Focus, Bridget. You have work to do.
But focusing proves to be easier said than done. Every time I lean over a car, I remember the way he pressed against me from behind. Every time I hear an engine, I think about the purr of his Ferrari. Every time I use a tool, I remember the way his hands moved over my body with the same confidence and skill I use to fix engines and repair brakes.
By lunchtime, I'm a mess. Distracted, jumpy, and completely unable to concentrate on the simple oil change I'm supposed to be doing. When I drop my wrench for the third time, I finally give up and decide to take a break.
I need to talk to someone about this. Someone who can help me get my head on straight and stop obsessing over a man I barely know.
I head to the office to call my best friend.
Jenny picks up on the second ring. "Hey, girl. What's up?"
"Can you come over for lunch?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual. "I need to talk to someone."
"Uh oh. That tone usually means boy trouble." I can hear the grin in her voice. "What did you do?"
"Just… come over. I'll make sandwiches."
"I'll be there in twenty."
Jenny Santos has been my best friend since high school. She's a nurse at Miami General, which means she's seen enough of humanity's stupidity to not judge me for whatever dumb thing I've done. She was also there for me throughout my father’s illness, pulling whatever strings she could for me at the hospital, helping me at home when I was his caregiver whenever she could. Without her, I don’t know how I would have made it.
She knows why the shop is so important to me, why keeping it running is everything. Why what I have left of my father is so precious.
She shows up an hour later with a big bag of salt and vinegar chips and a knowing look. "Okay, spill. What happened?"
I lead her inside to the kitchen, getting her a Diet Coke out of the fridge as I get turkey, cheddar cheese, and all the rest of the fixings for sandwiches out of the fridge. I don’t even know where to start without sounding like an absolute idiot. “I… uh… had an encounter last night.”
Jenny snorts, sitting at one of the stools at the kitchen bar as she cracks open the Coke. “Like an alien encounter? Come on, Bridg. I know it’s a guy, so tell me everything. Don’t leaveanydetails out.”
I swallow hard, imagining her face if I described Caesar’s dick to her. I bet she’s never seen anything like that either. Well—maybe at the hospital, but never so intimately.
“Comeon,” Jenny prods, and I set down the butter knife I’m using to spread mayo onto bread.
“The kind where a ridiculously hot stranger shows up at my shop with car trouble and ends up fucking me senseless on the hood of his Ferrari."
Jenny chokes on her sip of Coke. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You heard me." I slide her sandwich across the counter and lean against it, suddenly exhausted. "I don't know what came over me. He was just… God, Jenny, he was the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. And arrogant as hell. And I should have told him to take his car and his money and get the hell out of my shop."
"But you didn't." She smirks. “Don’t be shy, Bridg, I want to hearallabout this.”
"No. I didn't." I take a bite of my sandwich, though I'm not really hungry. My stomach is churning, saying all of this out loud. "He offered me ten thousand dollars to fix a blown fuse. Ten thousand, Jenny. I couldn't turn that down."
"Holy shit. Ten thousand for a fuse?"
"I know, right? It was insane. But I needed the money, and he was standing there with this money clip full of cash, and..." I trail off, remembering the way he looked at me. "And then he started flirting with me. Or maybe I started flirting with him. I don't know. All I know is that one minute I was fixing his car, and the next minute I was on my knees in the garage with his cock in my mouth."
