Page 14 of Possessive Mechanic

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Page 14 of Possessive Mechanic

Axel

Without a doubt there’s something, or someone, causing Astrid to act the way she did earlier today. I tried to search her out after my brief meet-the-press moment, but she was already gone.

Fine. She wants to play it that way, it just gives me more time to buckle down and do my own research, figure out who’s pulling the strings in her life, causing her to act the way she is.

If it’s some other guy trying to make a claim on her? Look the fuck out, friend…because I guarantee you I will be anything but friendly toward you.

Back in my garage, I buckle down, working on this airplane engine that Astrid’s father announced today. The man has tremendous stones, and confidence in me, that I’m going to be able to solve the physics of this and make it happen…and his company a metric shit ton of money in the process.

I crank the wrench on an engine, my body flat out on the ground lying underneath it as I try to concentrate on what I’m doing and not what I want to be doing…spending time with her.

Suddenly all the work in the shop grinds to a halt, and a breeze passes over me, which shouldn’t happen when I’m in this position in the garage. I can feel her presence, knowing she’s here before a word is spoken.

“Get back to work,” I growl, sliding out from underneath the airplane engine, quickly moving to my feet as I grab a rag and wipe the grease off my hands as I take in the sight of her.

She’s looking around the garage, probably for me, but in the meantime her body slowly moves in a three hundred and sixty-degree angle, allowing me to run my eyes over every inch of that perfect body of hers. The one that will belong to me again. Scratch that…she still belongs to me. Always has. Always will.

That tight ass of hers that looks like her skirt was painted on.

That top that’s just a little too form-fitting…unbuttoned just one button too far.

“I said…Get. Back. To Work,” I bark a second time, and the sound of men getting back into position on the machines they were working on before she entered resumes.

She turns quickly toward the sound of my command, my nostrils flaring as her Lambo sits between us, blocking my rapidly growing erection from her view. But not for long.

Forgetting to toss the grease-stained rag to the side I use it to grab my groin, and try and get some relief from a quick adjustment…failing miserably.

There’s nothing that can stop my need for her, my instant arousal at so much as a single thought of her.

She looked like a billion bucks today at that event, but here…now, all her feminine features are framed by the masculinity of this garage. The contrast is striking and only highlights just how much of the perfect female specimen she really is.

Gone is the bravado that she hit me with earlier today, in its place the innocent girl I first met. She’s a fish out of water, on my turf, not hers.

Here I have the upper hand, although her intoxicating ways negate part of that despite my attempts to control myself.

My mouth starts to water and I run my tongue over the seam of my lower lip.

Damn, how I’ve wanted to taste her again. Fuck if I haven’t jerked myself dry these last two days, a poor substitute for the real thing. As a matter of fact, there is no substitute, and no matter how many times I close my eyes in the shower and beat my cock like it stole something I just can’t quite get to where I need to be.

Only with her. She is the only solution.

And now that she’s here, in front of me, I can damn near climax on sight.

“Your ride’s ready,” I say flatly, trying to play this calm, to let this little kitten come to me. She’s already come down here to this part of town, no need to rush her anymore.

“I told you, you can donate it to charity or keep it.”

“Don’t need no charity, especially from some rich person who’s just looking at me like manual labor, some muscle that can do something for them that they can’t do themselves. You want it for charity, you donate it. I don’t need the hassle or the recognition. I don’t play in that fake ass world.”

She doesn’t even look shocked at my words anymore because she knows this is who I am, that I’m not putting on a show. This is the real me, and I want nothing to do with all that fancy stuff. Sure, I work in a very image-driven insecure industry…fancy cars and aeronautics engines for billionaires who are trying to send commercial flights into space. The thought of spending five times the average household’s income on a quick little flight just above earth’s atmosphere is appalling to someone who grew up with nothing. Me.

But I’ll put her head in the clouds again all right. Just come to papa little one, come get this dick I know you want just as much as I want to give it to you.

“How’d you fix it?” she asks, changing her tone, but not moving any closer to me.

“Now you know why your father chose me to lead his project.”

“That project is going to be the wedge that comes…”




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