And it was better than she’d imagined it would be. The kiss and that hard-on.
She put her hand on his chest, and he groaned low in his throat and stepped back. She saw it in his features. He hadn’t meant to lose control. He was as surprised by that kiss as she was.
And he’d loved it as much as she had. But he felt guilty. She saw that too. If Asa apologized, she was going to kick him.
He thought better of it – maybe he noted the violence in her eyes – and waved a hand, indicating she should proceed.
Smiling, she moved along as he led her through the shop, bringing her to stand in front of a 1971 El Camino.
“You’re kidding me. Really?”
She was usually much more confident, but she wanted this so bad! Working on this truck would be such a fantastic job. As good a time as the kiss. Though she wouldn’t say that out loud.
“This is a pretty simple job. The client wants initials woven into a design on each door, below the handle. Give me three choices and I’ll pick one.”
“Nope.” She thrust her bag into his arms and began to walk around the truck.
“Nope?”
She laughed without looking up at him, her gaze roaming greedily over the El Camino. “Bet you don’t hear that often. I’m not giving you three designs. That’s a waste of my time. I don’t need to anyway. Who is your client? Male? Female? Young? Older? Letters in the name?”
Struck silent for long moments, Asa simply watched her. She clearly had something going on because she bent and took a picture of the area with her phone and then stood with a smile.
“I work freehand. If you don’t like my design I’ll remove it and refund your money. Can I work here or do you need me to take it off-site?” She waited for his reply, and then when it didn’t come immediately she moved to him. “Here’s the thing, I’m sure you’re thinking, What the hell, she should be grateful and do it the way I said. Maybe you’re right. But while I am grateful for the chance, this is creative for me. I have my own process and it doesn’t include you or anyone else but the owner of the car. I’m worth it.”
“That’s a bold claim.”
“I’m more than happy to show you.”
Oh danger, danger, danger.
Asa liked the way she flirted. Straightforward. She wasn’t overly coy.
He reminded himself she was too young. Even if she kissed like she was made for him.
And he had to admit, her refusal to provide three samples was reasonable. He liked her spark.
“You can do it here. We have painting bays. Client is male, thirty-eight. He’s a cop. Saved up for years for this job, so I want it to be fan-fucking-tastic, dig?”
One of her brows went up, the one with the ring. His cock hardened at the haughty expression it lent her features.
“Just so we’re clear, all my work is fan-fucking-tastic. You dig? I don’t do it if I don’t do it all the way. Why else would I be here?”
They stood there not speaking, letting that chemistry between them build. Again. It ebbed and flowed like that every time they were near each other. Playing with fire. He knew it. Suspected she did too.
Which made it even hotter.
Even harder to pull back each time from taking a step into something intimate between them. Which, of course, he’d complicated by kissing her. Still, he couldn’t find it in him to feel bad.
“We’re waiting on some custom pieces for the dash, so I’ll have one of my guys take the doors off and you can work on them while we wait.”
“What’s this guy like? Is he an Ed Hardy–wearing cop? Earnest cop next door? Hot cop you dated in secret back when you were a senior in high school?”
Fuck.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. He totally had to let that one go. There was no way he could go down that road.
“There’s a story?” he heard himself ask like he stood in another room.
“He was hot. Bad. Bad and hot. One of my best friends’ older brothers. He’s still hot, actually, but engaged. The stuff he taught me.” She drew in a slow breath, pleasured at the memory. Her lip caught a moment between her teeth and she looked up at him through her lashes. “I like older men, I suppose.”
He pressed the tip of one of his keys into his thigh to keep from taking her hint.
“He’s an inked cop who is super active in his community. Works with youth. He’s a very cool guy.”
She pulled a notebook from her bag – the one he still held – and scribbled things down here and there as they went back and forth for a while.
“If I get this right in one,” she muttered as she began to sketch, “when I’m done with this job you can give me the next one right after I deliver.”
Cocky.
He wished he’d had her kind of confidence at twenty-five. It had taken eight years in the army for him to learn how to get his emotions under control, and once he’d done that, he’d gotten his shit together and begun focusing on what he’d do in his life after he left the military.
But he shouldn’t be encouraging it.
“All right. And if you lose?”
Her gaze left the paper and locked with his. “Do you have some terrible punishment for me?”
And he planned to send Duke a case of beer for walking in right before Asa answered that question honestly.
Moment broken, she smirked and handed him the pad. “No need to discuss what happens if I lose. Because, duh.”
He looked down and then handed the pad over to Duke.
“This is for Mort?” Duke asked.
Asa nodded.
“Damn. You’re good, beautiful. And you have perfect timing because those parts just came in.” Duke looked over to her. “Can you do this now? This guy is one of our good friends. He’s waited for this a long time. If you can do it now we can get it to him a little earlier.”
“I need to run home and get my stuff. I can be back in an hour. I’m happy to do this for Mort.”
“I’ll have the doors moved into a paint bay for you.” Asa paused. “And when you’re done, your next job will be ready.”
She flashed them both a smile, grabbed her bag from Asa, and headed out, waving over her shoulder and saying she’d be back.
“Sweet fucking shit, she’s hot. Just like a really bad girl wrapped up in a sweet girl-next-door costume,” Duke said as they watched her drive off.
“She’s just a kid.” Asa flagged one of his guys down and told him to get the doors off and moved.
“That person who was just here, trading so much sexual whatever you two have that I could feel it five feet way? That’s a woman, Asa.”
They continued on to Asa’s office. Once they were out of earshot of everyone else, he resumed the conversation. “What I’m looking for is on the more experienced end of the spectrum. That woman who was just here is hotter than fire, absolutely. But what I want from a woman isn’t in her wheelhouse.”
Duke scoffed. “Why? You’re kinky, not gay. So obviously she has what you need in her wheelhouse just fine.”
“Shut the fuck up. You know what I mean.”
Asa liked percussive toys. Crops and paddles, mostly. He loved the sound of the crop splitting the air right before it landed on skin. Loved the crack of that contact. Loved the sound a woman made when she really liked it.
He couldn’t imagine PJ’s reaction if he ordered her over his knees, hands flat on the ground as he paddled her, each strike placed right so that the force traveled straight to her clit.
Of course, now that he’d thought it, the image of her, skin pinked from a leather slapper, whimpering until he walked his fingertips from her thighs up through her pussy had cemented itself in his imagination.