By the time I make it to Lumpy’s, the place is packed. I have difficulty finding a place to park my truck. In the door, I quickly find Jax and Levi sitting at a table. I head over, waving to the bartender who in turn nods and grabs a beer for me.

“What took you so long?” Levi slings an arm over the back of his chair and regards me as I pull my seat out and slam down.

Rubbing my tired eyes, I shake my head. “Took me a while to get back here from Lake Point.”

“What the hell were you doing out in Lake Point?” Jax sets his glass down and wheels back a touch from the table.

“Work.” I smile at the waitress as she sets my drink down, and I admire the sway of her arse as she walks away. Paige may be deeply embedded in my skin, but it doesn’t mean I can appreciate a nice arse clearly on display.

Then I’ll get spit in my drinks for being an arse and ignoring her and that, ladies and gentlemen, would ruin my favorite establishment.

“What are you doing working …?” Jax trails off, realization finally hitting him. “Havre and Bell gave you the Bartin account?” He falls back into his ever-present seat, flabbergasted.

Snicker, flabbergasted—oh, what a word.

“No.” I shake my head and take a pull, letting the ice-cold liquid cascade down my dried throat.

“Then why would they send you out there?” Something over my shoulder catches his attention. For a moment, a smile graces his face.

“I was fired today.” Usually, news of this caliber would bring Jax’s attention back to me, but whatever or rather whoever is behind me is far more interesting.

“They finally canned your ass?” Levi’s bottle rests at his lips, his brow raised, and he huffs. “I knew it would happen soon.”

“Thanks. I was really looking forward to not having a job this week,” I deadpan.

“But apparently, you aren’t on the hunt, so what did you find so quickly?” His bottle clinks with Jax’s when he sets it down. Jax, our dear friend, is still enamored with … someone.

“I wasn’t unemployed more than two minutes when an opportunity presented itself.”

Well, something has risen at the moment, and it sure wasn’t the job opportunity. It was my dick. My dick was extremely happy to see its current playmate.

“I’m sure it did. Did a male strip club hire your horny ass? Or maybe an escort company finally nabbed you?”

“Hardy fucking har har, you pig dick,” I grumble to my own drink.

Yes, the insult is not a very nice one. If none of you have seen a pig’s dick before, it isn’t very thick. In other words, I’m calling him a pencil dick.

“Well? What is it then?”

“He’s working with me now.” A tiny, almost child-size hand lands on my shoulder, causing it to drop with the unexpected touch.

A gleefulness overtakes me when I hear Len’s voice. If Len is here, there is a chance Paige is also here. I look up at the pixie. She smiles at me, winks, and rounds the table to take a seat right on Jax’s lap.

“Best seat in the house.” She kisses his cheek and turns her attention back to me and Levi. “Paige and Parker hired him to work directly for them.” She grabs the bottle Jax abandoned and slams it.

“Paige here?”

Fucking girl.

I’m a complete fucking woman who is hoping to get the attention of someone I’m interested in. Len lightly shakes her head with sympathy in her eyes.

“Was she busy tonight?” Len looks around the bar, avoiding my question. “Will she be by later?” I ignore the questioning expressions of my friends. They’ve never seen me consumed by a single woman before. I’m sure they are either elated or incredibly concerned.

Hell, I can’t even figure out what I am.

“Glad to see I’m not the only one getting laid regularly,” Jax quips. “And by one woman each.”

“It certainly will make life around the garage interesting,” Len teases. “I can’t wait.”

There is a distinct feeling you get when you know someone is smugly watching you. I have this feeling right now. Turning my head, I find Levi looking very self-satisfied.

“Give yourself a blow job over there or something?”

His grin grows into a full smile. “Nope, I have someone lined up to do that later.”

“Then what tickled your balls?”

“You.” The outrageous expression I throw at him makes him laugh. “You know I’m not into big, grumpy Australians. I mean, fuck, Ax, you’re working for a company now founded by two moto racers and you drove one of the sickest bikes last weekend.”

“So?”

“So maybe this is fate. You’re supposed to be in the motocross world. Jax and I have been telling you this for years.”

I mull it over. I’ve never been one to believe in shit like fate before. Every fucking thing that happened to me has been … I don’t know, but it hasn’t been fate, that’s for damn sure.

“Wait, am I missing something?” All eyes go to Len. She looks puzzled, lost at what Levi spews from his giant arse mouth.

“Axle used to be one of the top motocross riders in Australia—” Jax starts to fill her in.

“Until I wasn’t,” I butt in. He can tell her later about all the shit that went down. I don’t care to relive it once more. “I was good—”

“You were amazing.” Jax cuts me off. “You cut yourself short and could have gone on to be a somebody.”

Crossing my arms, I hunched my body over and leaned heavily on the table while averting my eyes. I don’t want to discuss it. I don’t want to go down memory lane and think about how much I loved to ride and how my bike and racing came before any girl.

“I have to go.” Standing abruptly, I toss a few bills on the table. It will cover my drink and at least another round for them. “Catch you guys later.” I hear their hushed talk as I walk away, and soon, the noise of the bar absorbs it. I take my leave and drive straight home.

Paige’s bike is gone.

That’s the first fucking thing I see when I pull into my spot. I knew she would eventually come and get it, but I didn’t think she would take it so soon. My phone chooses that moment to ring just as I’m walking into the flat. I’m not one of those people who have individual ring tones for other people.

“I’m fine,” I bark into my phone.

“Jeez, didn’t take you for one to be so volatile on the phone.” Paige’s smoky chuckle stops me; my breathing, my thoughts, my movements. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.” My chest vibrates as I answer. Shutting the door behind me, I dart to my room. Knowing Jax, he won’t leave me alone for long.

“Good, so am I.” She sighs into my ear, like she is really here; I feel her.

“What are you doing?” Taking off my shoes, I set them in their proper place before sitting on the edge of my bed.

“I’ve been in your office, sitting in your chair for the past half hour touching myself and thinking of you.”

Holy fuck!

I mean hooo-ly fuck!

The image she paints comes to my mind in an instant. She’s in my chair, her legs bent and her feet resting on my desk, her pussy open for me as her fingers slide down, playing with herself, slipping into her, teasing me. And even though I know she wasn’t in heels today, that’s how I picture her. Her jeans and panties are gone; the vest she was wearing unbuttoned revealing her taut, pierced tits. They are pushed together and waiting for me to consume them.

“Oh, yeah?” I loosen my tie to drop it to the floor and then pull off the rest of my clothes. “And how are you touching yourself?” My dick springs from my pants, and I wrap my hand around the throbbing strain of my dick.

I hiss as I pump once, waiting for her reply.

“Roughly.” The sigh comes out in a sharp breath. “Like you would, Oz.”

“Yeah?” The grip on my dick grows tighter as I pump a little faster.

“Yes, I need to use two of my fingers to measure up to one of yours.”

“Are you pinching your clit, Paige?” I move up my bed, resting against the wall and squeezing my balls while the phone stays cradled between my shoulder and head.

“Yes.” She pants. “My pussy aches for your fingers, your tongue … fuck …” Her breath hitches. “I want your dick.”

“It’s yours, baby.” I pump faster, squeezing a little harder, imagining it’s her walls holding me in a vise grip. “Don’t forget to play with those pretty tits as well.”

I hear something popping out of a mouth, a wet sound you can’t mistake as anything other than either a mouth releasing a dick or a tit. In this case, I know her tits were just in her mouth.

“I haven’t forgotten. The way you bite and tug on my piercings drive me crazy.”

“Oh, yeah? How about when I tease your clit? Fuck you with my fingers and tongue. You like that?”

“Fuck, yes.” She pants again. “The way you hit all the right spots makes me want to sit on your face all day every day.”

My balls draw up; I’m about ready to bust my load all over my bed and myself. “Paige, you are welcome to use my face as your throne any day.”

“Thank fuck.” She moans. In my head, I imagine her rolling her head against the back of my chair, her dark hair fanning out and blending in with the dark leather. “Are you touching yourself, Oz?” There is a voice a woman uses when she is close to coming. I don’t care how tough the woman; is she will use it. It is a higher pitch and almost annoying, but it is a clear sign her orgasm is coming.

“Oh, fuck yeah. My hand isn’t anything near the level your pussy is, baby, but fuck, I’m about to come.” I grunt at the end. My fist tightens as I come up to my tip, my piercings doing nothing but making it feel that much fucking better. “Come all over my chair, Paige.”

“You bet your sweet arse I am.” I really like how she didn’t say ass as most Americans do. I like her attempt, and then she cries out in euphoric detonation, rocketing me into my own. The scene playing out in my head is her fingers of one hand suspended in her pussy and her thumb rubbing her clit while the other plays with her nipples or fists her hair. The evidence of her orgasm running down her arse onto my seat, my floor, and I hope to fuck that the cleaners have already been in there for the day because I don’t want a thing to be missing when I get there tomorrow.

We stay in suspended silence for a few minutes, both of us trying to catch our breaths. My dick still throbs from my release, my stomach and a small part of my bed covered in my cum.

“That was fun.” I hear the devilish smile in her voice, picturing the vixen-like gleam in her sea green eyes.

“It would have been better if you were on my lap.”

“Another time,” she quickly replies. “I’ve got to go, Oz. But thanks for the memories.” She hangs up before I get the chance to answer her. I keep the phone to my ear. The light of the screen in my peripheral shines until it fades.

“Wow.” Finally, I drop my phone and get up to clean myself.

The things this woman does to me.