Page 15 of Possessive Mechanic

“What did you say?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” she replies, shaking her head from side to side as she closes her eyes and tries to dismiss the Freudian slip.

This feels like a Western standoff, one of us challenging the other to draw first. That’s not the vibe I need right now, but if I move to her, my height and my size might cause her to move away. I need her to come forward, to know she’s safe here. The thought that she’s nervous around me both excites me to no end and pisses me the fuck off too.

“Why don’t you come take a look,” I suggest, and after a moment she finally moves toward the car and I do the same.

When she arrives at the car she runs her hand along its edge, tracing the smooth curve until I place my hand on hers, stopping her movement.

Slowly her head moves up toward mine, her eyes slowly following.

“What’s bothering you, princess? Just tell me, so I can make it all go away,” I say softly so my men can’t hear.

“I looked up your case,’’ she says bluntly. “You pleaded no contest. Were the charges true?”

I stand there, frozen, without emotion.

“No contest means you don’t contest the charges. It doesn’t mean you accept the charges you’re being presented with…only that you’re willing to accept the punishment.”

“Exactly. Which is why it doesn’t make sense. I don’t know you well…okay that well in most ways,” she begins, blushing and her tough-talking line of questioning taking a bit of a hit, “but I know you’re not the kind of person who takes anything lying down. You’re not someone who just accepts what life throws at you.”

“Very astute of you…but you don’t know what else might have been…thrown at me…in that situation.”

“A longer sentence. Obviously.”

“Before that. Before even getting close to that point.”

“That explains how you go in as practically a kid, and when you come out you suddenly have some fancy mechanic’s garage within a year of being released? No way you could afford all this,” she says, looking around the immense square footage of the place, “after never making a dime in your life before you got locked up.”

“Who says I wasn’t making money while I was inside? I was in there a long, long time.”

“Since before I was alive apparently.”

“Checking to see if my story about being faithful to you was true?”

With her other hand she slaps me playfully on the shoulder. “Very funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a joke.”

This verbal power struggle has yet to declare a winner, but if she’s digging into my past she’s clearly interested. She’s curious. And more importantly, she’s probably trying to justify having some sort of relationship with me. Well, there is no such thing as some sort of relationship, little girl. You’re either all in or you're not. All or nothing, and she can be sure I’m in all the way when it comes to keeping her as mine…forever.

“What would you do if someone wasn’t…loyal to you,” she swallows hard.

Leaning in closer I press my cheek to hers, the sides of my lips touching her flesh as I speak close to her ear. “By asking me in the way that you did, you already know the answer.”

I can hear her gulp. “What if there was no other choice?”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Like pleading no contest?”

My entire mind goes blank as I rush for an answer. No one has ever talked to me this way, and more importantly…she’s right.

“Not doing anything is still a choice. Not taking action, is still a reaction,” I rebut.

She just nods. “I have to go.”

“Where? Let me take you,” I offer.

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