Best Erotic Romance 2014 Page 4
He greeted Tamara with a businesslike handshake, though she thought his palm might have lingered in hers a beat longer than necessary. For the next hour, she described a timing belt’s function at length, detailing how its failure could cause valves and pistons inside the engine to interfere with each other to disastrous effect. She explained that even a new timing belt could be destroyed by an oil leak. Then she showed him the dried cam seals she’d removed from his car’s engine.
To be honest, the worn rubber rings she’d discovered had shocked her. She held them up for his inspection. “See how cracked, brittle and hard those things are?” Tamara asked. “Whoever replaced your timing belt should really have noticed that. It takes a lot of labor for me to get down to that part of the engine, and those parts don’t cost that much. If you’re already in there and you see these things look old, you might as well replace them to be safe.” She tossed him a new cam seal. “See the difference? How it springs back when you pinch it? Feel it.”
She picked one up herself and squeezed to demonstrate.
“It is hard,” he said, imitating her movements. Her gaze snapped to him, ready to call him out for innuendo, but he met her challenging gaze with apparent innocence. He smelled great, too—his clean, spiced apple scent stood out brightly against the greasy engine smells all around them. Even without intentional provocation from Randal, Tamara’s nipples stood at attention. Again, she imagined what it would be like to touch him. Would his black eyes widen with surprise when she pressed her lips to his? Would he use those muscles to grab her ass with ferocious intensity?
She rushed to cover her reaction to him. “I didn’t actually replace the timing belt because the oil hadn’t gotten to it yet. If you compare your bill to your estimate, you’ll see we removed that charge.”
As if on cue, Lucy poked her head in to check on them. Tamara smiled, glad to be free of Randal before she had to think any more about her heart’s unbidden pounding. While Lucy took care of his bill, she could close up his engine and concentrate on getting him out of her life. The last thing she needed was to embarrass herself with a client.
She’d almost caught her breath when his approaching footsteps quickened it again. “Mind if I use your sink?” he asked. “I picked up some grease from that seal you showed me.”
Tamara agreed, then realized she’d have to lead him to the back corner of the garage. She’d started a reorganization project there that had left the area littered with car parts and tools. The cramped space forced her to stand much closer to him than she otherwise would have. “I’m not sure how much good that will do you,” she muttered, indicating the gray sliver of soap resting on the lip of the sink.
“You must have guys hitting on you all the time,” Randal said suddenly as he rubbed his hands together under the fitful stream of water from the metal faucet.
Tamara blinked at the non sequitur. “What makes you think so?”
“Your confidence,” Randal said. “Your skill. It’s hot as hell. And a lot of men get turned on when a woman can do a job they think of as a man’s.” He cleared his throat and dried his hands on the rag she kept beside the sink. “Combined with your looks, it’s deadly. People must bother you pretty often.” He glanced at her, desire clear in his eyes for the first time. Her body responded with a wet ache, right in her center. Tamara caught herself wondering why she didn’t take him. What harm could it do to get laid?
A smile played over Tamara’s lips. For once, she felt more amused than bitter. “Usually, they bother me by acting like I don’t even know how to drive a car, much less repair one. I don’t really have a lot of problems with being asked on dates.”
Randal curled his lip, just slightly. “Stupid men.”
She smirked. “Is this an elaborate way of asking me out?”
He hesitated for so long that she wondered if he would take the opportunity she’d given him. “I really shouldn’t. I don’t want to—”
“Bother me,” Tamara finished for him.
He shrugged and spread his hands, and she saw he’d stained them again on the rag he’d used to wipe them. Tamara didn’t want to resist anymore. She touched the oil streak that crossed his palm. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting into? This is a pretty dirty place.” To emphasize her point, she did what she’d fantasized about only hours before, tracing his cheekbone with one greasy finger. A sense of primal victory filled her chest when she stepped back and stared at the mark she’d made on his perfect, chiseled face.
For a second, Randal didn’t react and Tamara worried she’d miscalculated. Then he reached for her, crushing her body to his with exactly the strength she’d hoped to feel.
“What about your suit?”
“I’ll owe the dry cleaner a lot of money. It will be worth it.”
He bent to kiss her, but Tamara stopped him before he could reach her lips. She felt greedy, and wanted to take him her way. “Hold on,” she said. “Since you don’t mind ruining your suit…stay right there.”
Tamara ran to retrieve the unused timing belt from the kit she’d opened for his car. She returned and showed him the rubber belt, ridged on one side with a corrugated pattern. “As I was trying to explain,” she said, “this thing synchronizes the engine valves to make sure they run smoothly.”
She approached Randal and wound the belt around his hips, using it to tug him toward her. Grinning, he let her pull his body tightly against hers. His erection rubbed plainly against her pelvis. He reached between them to undo Tamara’s work shirt, while she continued her feigned lecture. “We wouldn’t want to disturb the rhythm between us, so it’s very important to make sure this belt is tight and properly installed.”
She did let Randal kiss her the next time he tried. He tasted clean and crisp and male. Tamara moaned when he pressed his tongue between her lips, then lifted her chest to grant him access.
Randal pushed up her sports bra and cupped her breasts. Despite his claims about the supposed sexiness of her job, Tamara so often felt her femininity wound up hidden or overlooked. Not so when Randal touched her. The gentle brush of his fingertips against her nipples made her feel curvy and desirable.
For the next little while, she forgot her game and gave herself over to his kisses, her grip on the timing belt loosening. Randal kissed his way down her neck and shoulder, sweeping aside the coiled hair she let run wild to reach bare skin. He dropped to his knees on the dirty concrete floor, apparently unconcerned about his suit, and kissed her stomach while undoing the fly of her worn jeans.
She shivered when he pulled her jeans down past her hips, baring her panties. She could barely remember the last time she’d had her pussy licked, and now Randal’s breath heated her through her underwear.
He pressed another kiss to her clit through cotton she’d already soaked with her arousal. Then he pulled back with a slight frown.
“What’s the matter?”
Mischief danced in Randal’s eyes. “Well, I think you warned me that fluid could degrade the belt. I’m no expert, but I think I found a leak.” His finger toyed with the elastic edges of her panties.
Tamara relaxed and grinned. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I don’t think that part can be replaced. You’ll have to plug it and see if that helps.”
Randal wasted no time slipping off her underwear and sliding a finger into her wet pussy. Tamara’s cunt gripped at him, pleased but unsatisfied. “That leak is bigger than that,” she told him.
He took the hint and filled her with two fingers, then three. Tamara groaned and rocked against his hand. It felt good to be touched, to feel the light kisses he feathered over her inner thighs, but she wanted more. Then she remembered the timing belt still in her hand and wound it gently around the back of his head.
“We should see if these parts have been adjusted to work together correctly,” she said, using the belt to guide his mouth back to her clit. Randal chuckled, but obliged, giving her a long, slow upward stroke with the flat of his tongue.
Randal nipped her clit gently and electricity shot through Tamara’s body, destroying her dexterity entirely. Her cunt pulsed. She’d never come standing up before, but she did now, so disoriented by the waves of pleasure coursing through her that she barely knew which way was up. Shaking with orgasm, she released the timing belt, not wanting to hurt him if she stumbled.
Randal caught her around the middle and held her, still stroking her. “I should have been paying more attention,” he murmured against her stomach. “You did warn me that if the belt got too saturated, it could slip.”
“Mmm,” Tamara responded, foggy with pleasure. She was far from finished with him, though. “It’s still leaking,” she told him, gesturing toward her pussy.
“You’re the professional,” Randal said, “but I do have a special tool I could try. I don’t think my fingers were big enough.”
Tamara could not help giggling at the silliness of their game. “Yes, you’d better try your ‘special tool.’”
Randal removed his suit jacket and spread it on the floor. Even woozy with orgasm, she reached out to stop him. “You don’t have to—”
“Nonsense.” He guided her onto it, then took off his shirt and folded it into a pillow for her. Tamara gazed up at him, not sure if she was more impressed by his romantic gesture or by the definition of his abs. He smiled down at her. “Now,” Randal said, “I do that frantic search for the condom guys keep in their wallets just in case.”
Tamara grinned. “Or we can grab my pants and check the one in my wallet. If it’s not expired, that is.”
Randal returned her smile and tossed her the pants. “Glad it’s not just me.”
Tamara produced the condom while Randal stripped to bare skin. She buried her nose against his cock, breathing in his sharp male musk, then rolled the condom over his erection. She thought of a few more funny comments about leaks and oil, but right then she wanted him too much to bother with that anymore. She lay back, spread her legs and invited him in.
Randal rested his palms on either side of Tamara’s head and slid his cock into her. She rolled her hips up to welcome it, and soon discovered their timing was perfect. He advanced when she needed him deeper, then withdrew and rocked just within her entrance right at the moment she wanted to feel him there instead.
Tamara leaned up to kiss him, gripping his ass tightly and pulling him into her. She couldn’t believe how smoothly he moved within her, or how perfectly he fit. Her second orgasm came to her easily, pleasure gliding through her from head to foot as she buried her face in the side of Randal’s neck.
His orgasm followed a moment later. Not the noisy type, he placed his mouth against Tamara’s ear to let her hear the tiny hitch his throat gave when he came. He eased his weight onto her. “You are the best mechanic,” Randal whispered. “Patient, professional, knowledgeable…and very thorough.”
She held him against her for a moment, savoring the experience and wondering what she ought to do next. Then she released him so he could take care of the condom. She watched his back as he walked toward the sink. Tamara decided that when he returned, she could ask him to dinner.
“Hey,” Randal said lightly as he turned on the water. “You never showed me the valve cover gasket. Did that turn out to be in good shape after all?”
“It certainly wasn’t dried out like the cam seals,” Tamara answered, then trailed off, lifting herself onto one elbow. The facility with which he’d referred to cars as they made love took on a different cast in her mind. “Most people who can’t tell a timing belt from a steering wheel wouldn’t know a valve cover gasket if it put a gun to their heads.” Adrenaline poured through her body, erasing the relaxation her orgasms had brought. “Who are you?”
The easy smile he’d been wearing fell off his face. He turned toward her and held up his hands. Now, his gym-sculpted body seemed to mock her.
Tamara pressed her attack. “Are you checking out the competition or something?”
“This isn’t what you think,” Randal said.
“I just had sex with a man who’s in my place of business under false pretenses,” Tamara shot back. “I’m pretty sure it’s what I think.” She felt too naked, too vulnerable and too embarrassed. She gathered her clothes as quickly as she could.
“Look, I’m a reporter. I’m checking out how different shops treat their customers.”
She sent him a glare cold enough to freeze water. “Do I get special mention for fucking a customer?”
“Look, I know it wasn’t the best thing for me to do. I tried to tell you, but… In the end, I just didn’t want to stop what was happening between us. I’m sorry.”
Tamara stared at him. Her body still ached with the pleasure he’d given her. She still wanted him, and she did remember the moment he’d hesitated. Tamara very nearly stretched out her arms to him, but the humiliation of being deceived burned too strongly in the back of her throat.
She turned her back on him. “You can call me later if you want, once I’ve had a chance to think about this. Right now, please get out.”
* * *
“Can you believe he was an undercover reporter?” Lucy almost squealed the question, clearly thrilled by the glamour of the word “undercover.” “‘Top marks go to T.O.’s Auto Service Plus in Providence, R.I., the only shop we tried that caught every problem our test vehicle had, fixed them all and didn’t charge a penny’s worth of unfair parts or labor,’” she read aloud from the magazine open in her hands. She followed Tamara into the garage, ignoring her boss’s every effort to retreat. “‘Staff was patient, professional, knowledgeable and very thorough,’” Lucy continued.
Embarrassment flooded Tamara at the familiar phrasing. Her hands worked at her sides. Engines made so much more sense than people. “You should really keep an eye on the floor if you’re going to be in here, Lucy,” she said. “Especially in those heels. Why don’t you put that magazine away?”
Lucy surprised her by dropping it and placing one fist on each hip instead. “What’s the matter with you, Tamara? That is the best write-up we could possibly have hoped for, and in a national magazine! You’d think you would be happy! I’ll even forgive Randal Dean for being such a pain in the ass while he was here.”
Tamara swallowed. Lucy was right—she had no reason to be anything but delighted with the profile. She’d earned every nice thing Randal had written about her shop by being good at her job. He hadn’t slipped in any patronizing words about her gender—this was definitely the first write-up she’d gotten that didn’t include a line about how surprising it was that Tamara could be a competent mechanic and decently pretty woman at the very same time. As far as what had happened between them, she was the one who had sent him away. She was disappointed he hadn’t called, but he didn’t owe her anything.
Unfortunately, knowing that hadn’t helped her get over her evening with Randal. “I just feel like he took us for a bit of a ride,” she admitted to Lucy, ducking her head at her inadvertent car imagery and the memories it summoned.
“He paid us, and he gave us great press,” Lucy returned brightly. “I don’t know what else you want from him!” She turned on her heel and returned to the front office, leaving Tamara to stare after her. She knew exactly what else she wanted from Randal Dean, but she also knew she had no chance of getting it.
“Tamara, can you come out to the front?”
Tamara took a deep breath and emerged reluctantly from the engine she’d been working on. “Seriously, Lucy, you are probably better prepared for talking to customers than I am.”
Lucy seemed exceedingly nervous this time, her fingers lacing together and unlacing in front of her body in rapid succession. “Would you please just come?”
Tamara wiped grease from her fingers, wincing a little at the way that always reminded her of Randal now. “I’ll be there in a second.” She cast a longing glance over her shoulder at the parts laid in a neat array on a cloth beside the car, then followed her service consultant to the front.
“I need timing belt service,” a familiar voice said. “Something is leaking or something is broken—I’m not sure what it is, but I have to make it right before I suffer catastrophic engine failure.”
Tamara stared. Randal stood in her front room, as sharply dressed as he’d been before, with a dozen roses in his hands. She struggled to find her voice. “Didn’t you just have that service recently?”
“I should have asked my mechanic to look at the valve cover gasket, too. My fault, really. How can she work when she doesn’t know the car’s whole situation? I’m hoping that sort of problem won’t happen anymore once I get a permanent arrangement set up with her.”
Tamara recognized his apology, and his invitation. She stepped forward and took the roses, their hands brushing together as she did. As before, he made her feel beautiful despite—or perhaps because of—all her grease and dirt.
“Can I talk to you outside?” Randal murmured when she came close.
Tamara smiled. She went behind the counter and palmed the keys to the souped-up Civic she drove herself. They would talk, certainly, and sort out anything they needed to. First, she meant to take him for a nice long ride.
RULES
Emerald
“What are you doing?”
Joyce looked up to see Pete in the doorway. “Just going through some pictures,” she said, looking back down at the disorganized box in front of her. “Many of which I had forgotten I had.”
Her husband moved to stand behind where she sat cross-legged on the basement floor. He squinted at the photo in her hand.
“What’s that?”
Joyce laughed. “It’s when I dyed my hair purple.” She held it up for his better viewing.