Page 18 of The Mechanic's Match
"Thanks," I mumble, pulling the blanket tighter around me.
Fox lights a candle and then leans against the kitchen workbench, the faint glow casting shadows over his sharp features. His eyes glint in the dim light, unreadable but intense, and I realize I’m staring. Again.
"Take a picture, Princess," he drawls, his voice low and teasing. "It’ll last longer."
I scoff, even as heat rises to my cheeks. "Don’t flatter yourself."
"Too late," he shoots back, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You’ve been checking me out since you got here."
I gape at him, words catching in my throat. He’s not wrong, but admitting it is out of the question. Instead, I deflect. "Maybe I’m just fascinated by how grumpy one person can be. It’s like an art form with you."
Fox’s laugh is a low rumble, and the sound wraps around me like the blanket. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"
"Good," I reply, stepping closer, emboldened by the flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes."
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The tension stretches taut, electric, until it snaps. I don’t know who moves first—maybe it’s me, maybe it’s him—but suddenly his lips are on mine, and the world tilts sideways.
Kissing Fox is like stepping too close to a fire: dangerous, consuming, and impossible to resist. His hands cup my face, calloused but gentle, as if he’s afraid I’ll pull away.
"Amelia," he murmurs against my lips, my name a low growl that sends a thrill straight through me.
"Shut up," I whisper back, fisting the front of his shirt and pulling him closer.
He laughs, the sound vibrating against my mouth, and then his hands are sliding down, wrapping around my waist and lifting me onto the workbench like I weigh nothing. The blanket slips off my shoulders, forgotten, as his fingers tangle in my hair.
"You’re trouble," he mutters, his forehead resting against mine.
"You love it," I counter, breathless.
His gaze darkens, and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue. Instead, he kisses me again, harder this time, his grip tightening as if he’s afraid I might disappear. The rough edge of his desire matches my own, and I lose myself in the heat of it.
The world narrows to the two of us—the scrape of his stubble against my skin, the taste of him on my lips, the way his body feels pressed against mine. It’s overwhelming and addictive, and I don’t want it to stop.
But then it does. Fox pulls back, his breathing ragged, and his hands drop to his sides as if he’s forcing himself to let go.
"Amelia," he starts, his voice hoarse, "I can’t…"
"Can’t what?" I ask, my frustration bubbling over.
His jaw tightens, and he looks away.
"You’re too…" He meets my gaze, his eyes stormy and conflicted, and for a moment, I think he’s going to push me away. Instead, he steps closer, his hand brushing against mine.
"You’re dangerous," he says softly, almost to himself. "You make me forget how to keep my distance."
"Maybe you don’t have to," I whisper, my heart pounding in my chest.
Fox doesn’t respond—at least, not with words. Instead, he pulls me into his arms, his kiss answering everything I need to know.
Chapter Ten
Fox
I’m going to lose my mind when I’m finally inside of her.
She bites down on her lip, trying to maintain composure with my hands on her skin.
"Tell me what's going through your head right now," I husk, locking my eyes on her.
