“Come on, honey…”

It wasn’t an uncommon thing to hear in my garage, men – and two kick-ass ladies – talking to expensive cars.

The current sweetheart being sweet-talked was a Mercedes Maybach S 650 Cabriolet, one hell of a sweet ride, one of only three hundred made, and this poor baby had been through the wringer. The owner was a nice enough guy. However, the owner’s son was a douche and had gone joyriding in it, then crashed it into the back of a parked car as he stopped to buy more booze – exactly what hadn’t been needed.

So far, the repair was going well, and I planned on keeping it that way.

I had a pretty good track record when it came to expensive models.

“Hey, boss!”

I shot a look over my shoulder at the door. Donut – his real name was Duncan – stood there with a grin on his face. He did not, thankfully, have a donut in his hand. I’d hired him on to act as the receptionist and handle the books about two months ago, and he was perfect at it. Except he really liked to eat donuts. As in all the time. Thus, the name. That his name was Duncan didn’t really help – or hurt, depending on how you looked at it.

“You got a lady here, says she wants to talk to the boss.”

A couple of faces lit up with grins as I grabbed a rag to wipe my hands, but I ignored them. Wisely, nobody said anything.

Once I was inside the office part of the garage, I caught sight of the tall, sleek looking redhead, barely covered in a few scraps of material that most people wouldn’t really consider the type of attire one might wear to a garage. A club, sure. But not an office.

“You’re the man…in charge?” she asked, hesitating for maybe a beat as she looked me up and down.

“Yes, ma’am.” She was familiar, but I couldn’t place her name. “I heard you wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes.” She tossed Donut a dismissive glance. “I have a complaint, if we could step into your office.”

Donut’s grin didn’t split his face until after the woman walked by him. Once we were inside, she turned to me, and I opened my mouth.

Hers was fastened to it before I so much as got a word out.

Well, alright then.

She slid her hands under my t-shirt, and I caught her wrists, easing her back a second. “I’m filthy…” I paused, trying again to think of her name. She’d been in to get some maintenance done on a sweet Rolls Royce just a week ago, and she’d put the moves on me then too. I’d responded with more than a little enthusiasm, because hell, I wasn’t stupid. But it hadn’t been enough to remember her name. “Baby, I’ve been under cars all day.”

She giggled. “Now you get to be under me.”

Hell, if she didn’t care, why should I?

As she kissed me again, I reached up and fisted a hand in her thick red hair. And I knew for a fact, she was a natural redhead – I remembered that too.

She moaned as I arched her head back, running my lips down the long, elegant line, pausing to catch the curve between my teeth and bite. She was sweet and sexy, and she smelled expensive, like silk and lust and a million dollars.

It was enough to make my dick stand up and pay attention.

She reached between us and gripped my cock, rubbing me through my jeans. “I want you naked, Kian,” she said, whispering the words against my mouth.

I pulled her skirt to her hips and palmed her ass. “I want to be inside you.”

She whimpered as I slid my hand down and under, finding her already wet.

Sweeping her up into my arms, I carried her over to the desk and deposited her on the surface, spreading her legs wide. She was indeed already wet, very, very wet, so much so that her panties clung to her. I traced a finger against the slick material, and she quivered, back arching.

It had her slight breasts lifting up, and I reached for the tie at the back of the neck, freeing the halter-style top.

She was naked underneath, and I dipped my head to show my appreciation as I caught one nipple in my mouth.

She tasted the way she smelled, and I hummed against her flesh. With my free hand, I reached into the top left-hand drawer and found the box I needed by feel. After tearing off a condom, I dropped back into the seat and stared up at her.

Just like that, I remembered her name.

“You said you wanted me under you. Is that how you want it, Stacey?” I asked as I dragged the zipper down over my cock, freeing myself.

Her eyes dropped, and she watched as I fisted myself, stroking up and down, urged on by the flare of heat in her gaze.

“Yes. But first…” She bit her lip, then went to her knees in front of me. I caught her chin, studying her face for a moment. Then, slowly, I let her go.

Groaning as she closed her mouth over me, I let my head fall back against the padded leather headrest. She had a good mouth on her, and she worked me close to the edge pretty damn fast.

But I wasn’t going to come in her mouth, despite the fact that she seemed to want it – and wasn’t that hot?

After I pulled her off, I tore open the condom, watching her watching me. That, in and of itself, was another turn-on. Some women got self-conscious doing this, but I didn’t see the point in that.

She licked her lips as I held out my hand and came to me. I drew her down until she straddled me, letting her take the lead.

She groaned as I filled her, an echoing sound rising from my throat.

It was so hot, the way she arched back and braced her hands on my knees, the position lifting her breasts as she began to grind against me. I wanted to taste those tight little nipples so, leaning forward, I caught her around the waist and drew her in, closing my mouth around the right one.

She gasped, and her pussy tightened around me like a fist.

Palming her ass, I tucked her in tighter against me and began to rock up to meet her thrusts, taking the pace from slow and lazy to something harder, deeper…dirtier. She squealed when I trailed my fingers up the slit between her ass cheeks, moaned when I bit her left nipple.

And she came hard and fast with the next thrust.

That was all it took for me to do the same, climaxing almost on the heels of her release.

It wasn’t a bad way to spend an afternoon.

Although I wasn’t going to let myself take a break later.

If I slacked off, the crew might think they could do the same.

“Thanks for your attention on that matter, Mr. Robson,” Stacey said, smiling at me and looking as cool as cream ten minutes later.

I returned her smile. “Not a problem, Stacey. I promise the issue will be resolved.”

She beamed at me and turned on a heel roughly the height of a New York City skyscraper and walked out.

Once she was gone, Donut asked, “Is there any way I can help the next time she comes back?”

“No,” I said shortly.

He gave me a crestfallen look, and I knew by the look in his eyes he had figured out exactly what was going on in my office. Not a surprise. Stacey hadn’t been quiet.

And that dress…

In the next second, he grinned. “Just messing with ya, boss. Here, I’ve got the schedules roughed out for next week, if you want to look them over. I swapped out Dave and Carol’s schedules for Wednesday, if that’s okay. She’s got a doctor appointment in the morning, and he said he didn’t mind working the early shift to cover her hours.”

Being a busy garage in a busy city meant we had to have more flexibility than the standard nine to five. We could have those hours, but we’d lose business to those garages that were happy to be open later or on weekends.

Since I preferred not to lose business, I’d hired a crew that could be flexible and cover the hours I wanted covered. It hadn’t been hard. Not every mechanic wanted to come in at the crack of dawn, and this way, I had people on hand until ten in the event somebody’s BMW or Porsche ended up in a fender bender – which happened. A lot.

I took the stack of schedules but cast a wistful look into the bay of cars. I’d rather be out there getting my hands dirty than going over paperwork, even with something as simple as approving the hours for the coming week.

Gritting my teeth, I forced my gaze back down onto the papers. Might as well get it done now instead of later, when there would be more work.