Page 54 of Stupid Dirty

“I think… I think I was jealous. I didn’t get it, but I was jealous of you giving her attention because I wanted all of your attention, but I knew I wasn’t supposed to, so I pushed you towards her. And you were probably feeling something similar and confusing, so you went. So really, we’re both idiots. As I pointed out last night.”

I boop his nose with my finger, because there’s no reason not to, and the sound of him laughing at me is so fucking pure I can’t not kiss him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The smell of motor oil and the repetitive movement is normally something that grounds me. Focusing on the task at hand and drowning out everything else is what I’m good at.

But right now I couldn’t focus if my life depended on it. Which isn’t great.

I’m not exactly rushing into burning buildings for a living, but I am working with powerful machines that could hurt me, so I should probably try to focus a little.

At the exact moment the thought passes through my head, my hand grazes a hot engine and I snatch it back with a hiss.

Ford raises his eyes, looking at me from across the room where he’s elbow deep in his current restoration project. An arched eyebrow is all he needs to ask if I’m okay.

“I’m fine.” I hold up both palms to show him.

He doesn’t move for another minute, still staring me down. Even though neither of us were looking for a chatty workplace, I was worried about being able to communicate with him whenever we didn’t have the luxury of passing a phone backand forth. But he’s pretty easy to read once you get to know him. And he can text me from wherever if he really needs to say something.

Right now, he doesn’t need to text for me to know what he’s saying.

I need to get my head out of my ass and pay attention to my work.

“I’m fine, I swear,” I repeat.

If I say it enough, maybe we’ll both believe it. It’s enough for him to turn back to his own work, but I don’t think he’s convinced. I wish I could tell him the whole truth. He’d understand my inability to concentrate if he knew exactly how much my world has been flipped upside down in the past twenty-four hours.

It is physically impossible to think about mundane things like tire pressure and coolant levels when all I can picture is Cade’s face. The face he made when I sank my cock into him for the first time last night. The face he made when he begged for more. Or his face when he came so hard he cried.

It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I don’t understand how I’ve spent so much time watching him without letting myself admit how beautiful he is until now. But once it clicked, everything made sense.

He’s mine. My job is to take care of him and keep him safe, like no one has before.

For the next couple of hours, I do my best to put all thoughts of Cade out of my mind. I’ll see him tonight, after all. The girls aren’t coming home until tomorrow night, which means I have one more night to wring as much noise out of his sexy, pouty mouth as I possibly can.

And I want to. More than anything.

It’s insane to think I’ve spent my entire life not really caring about sex. Because the second Cade and I got our shit together,it became all-consuming. It wasn’t just how much I care about him, although that’s a huge part of it. But it’s also this need to…have him. To own him, inside and out.

Seeing him marked up with my cum was like feeling a bunch of random puzzle pieces fall into place.

Does everyone feel this kind of possessiveness the first time they sleep with someone? Or every time? A part of me is worried that no one feels this way, and it’s a hint that something much larger is broken inside me.

People aren’t possessions. And I don’t want to control him. I just have this irrepressible need to keep him close to me, so I know he’s safe.

If his father tries to put his hands onmyperson again, I’ll rip out his spine.

Picturing creative ways of disemboweling Kyle Waters helps keep me moving, and before I know it, I’m buzzing with enough anger that I’ve forgotten all about the other, more confusing thoughts. Even if I have to pretend not to notice the concerned glances that Ford has been sending my way.

I double-down on my attempts to focus on the disassembled motor mount in front of me, but it’s only a few seconds later that my phone buzzes in my pocket. I can’t not answer it. The chances of Cade’s dad showing up are slim, but just in case. Holding the wrench in one hand, I pull out my phone with the other to check the incoming text from Cade.

good news! my cousin texted me that dads back in arkansas so it looks like that black cloud of human misery is finally past us.

My first instinct is to breathe out a sigh of relief. As much as I’d love to get my hands on the asshole, the risk and stress to Cade’s family wouldn’t be worth it. I get back to work, trying to make up for all the time I’ve wasted day-dreaming this shift.

My next thought isn’t so soothing, though.

---