“Is…is there something wrong?” Is that my voice? Christ, I sound like I’m whacked out on painkillers.
For God’s sake, get it together, girl.
He rubs the scruff on his chin, and I step back, needing a measure of distance before I actually reach out and run my hands over all his hard grooves and deep valleys.
“Plenty,” he says again and checks something else. I have no clue what he’s doing. I only know that he looks as hot as hell doing it. As he leans over my car, my gaze slides to his ass, committing the way his pants cup his cheeks to memory. The guy could be in a jeans commercial, or better yet, a Calvin Klein underwear ad. I’m a girl, but advertising like that would have me one-clicking the buy button.
My heart hammers as he stands again. He turns toward me, but I’m far too slow to react. His eyes are piercing, almost a deeper shade of blue when my gaze jerks to his, and I can’t tell whether he’s thrilled or pissed to find me checking him out.
I step closer and look over the engine. “So, what is it?” I ask, disgusted with myself. I should not be fantasizing over this man.
He clears his throat. “I think the first thing we need to do is replace the spark plugs,” he answers, his voice a little hoarse.
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” I say, my head bobbing in agreement.
That grin is back when I look at him. “You know something about cars?”
I shrug. “Sure…and duck tape.”
He laughs and says, “It’s not…” he shakes his head. “Never mind. So, you agree then, that something’s not firing right?”
Firing? Oh, things were firing all right, and lighting up my body like a goddamn Fourth of July celebration.
Damn him.
Damn Mother Nature.
Damn dim-witted moths.
2
Jaxon
I grab the rag from my back pocket and swipe a bead of moisture from my forehead, as the girl from the upstairs bedroom stands next to me, looking so goddamn hot in her tight AC/DC t-shirt and ripped jean shorts that her car isn’t the only thing close to overheating. If I didn’t love the band before, I sure as hell would now.
She might have lived next to me for two months, and numerous times I’ve glimpsed her moving around her bedroom with little to nothing on, but this is the first time I’ve been so close to her—and it’s making it a little fucking hard to breathe.
Talk about fueling all my college girl fantasies.
Not only is she gorgeous, everything about her, from the swell of her cleavage, her barely-there curves, to legs that go on for miles, reminds me it’s been a long-ass time since I’ve had a woman in my bed. It’s not that women are on my do without list, which is sizable now that I’m the sole caregiver to a five-year-old girl. It’s just that after working all day and being a full-time single parent at night, it leaves little time for anything else. That, and I have to be very careful who I let into my daughter’s life. No way will I ever let anyone hurt her again.
My sexy neighbor bends over the hood to examine the car again, and my cock twitches—very well aware of how long it’s been since it’s been touched, too. I try not to chuckle as she tugs on some wires, acting like she knows what she’s doing. A moment later, she stands and shifts from one foot to another, her nervous gaze darting from me, to the cars passing by, back to the engine.
“Will it take long?” she asks, as I resist the urge to adjust my thickening cock.
Probably not.
“Uh…” I search for my words, my hard cock interfering with my brain process.
Her eyes fly back to mine. “The car, I mean. Will it take long?” she explains, like I’d misunderstood what she’d meant the first time. I didn’t. I just had my mind on other things that likely wouldn’t take long, you know, because of the huge hard on I’m sporting at eight in the morning.
I check my watch. “Not long, but I won’t be able to get at it for a bit.”
She blinks thick lashes over the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. “Um…how much will it cost, do you think?”
Her breathy question has me thinking about plunging my hands through her hair and bending her over the hood so I can fulfill all my dirty college-girl fantasies. All I can think about is fucking her until her roommates hear her screams.
“Have you noticed the temperature gauge going high?”
“Yeah, when I was at the stoplight last week, I noticed that.”
“Well then, it’s not the spark plugs that are going to set you back. It’s the radiator. It needs to be replaced.”
“Oh…damn.” She chews on her bottom lip and crinkles her nose. That’s when her scent hits me. Peaches. Why the fuck does she have to smell like sweet peaches? My goddamn favorite fruit. “Maybe we better forget this.”
She starts to back away, and I have no idea why, but I’m not ready for this conversation to be over. “Look, I can probably get you a good deal on one, cut your costs in half, and I can do the labor for free.”
Jesus, what the fuck am I doing?
“I can’t—”
Just then Cassie sticks her head out the upstairs window. “Daddy, I can’t find my shoes.”
I shade the early morning sun from my eye and my heart misses a beat the way it always does when I see my little girl. “We came in the back door last night, remember?”
“Right.”
Cassie disappears and I hear my neighbor mumbling under her breath. Apparently, a broken-down car, one she can’t afford to have fixed, is going to make her late for class.
I shove the rag back into my pocket and close the hood. “What time do you need to be there?”
She blinks up at me. “What?”
The lock clicks into place. “School. What time do you have to be there?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“I can
