Page 30 of Tempted By the Single Dad Mechanic
This time, I'm the one who reaches for his hand. He looks down at our joined hands, then closes his fingers around mine, and when he looks back up, the air between us changes.
My eyes drop to his lips again. Those beautiful, full lips that are just inches away from mine.
Should I do it? Should I just lean forward and kiss him?
I've gained some confidence over the past six months. Enough to talk to strangers, to navigate unfamiliar towns, to handle my car breaking down without falling apart.
But not enough for this. Not enough to make the first move with a man who's been nothing but kind to me, who's given me a place to stay, who's helping me without asking for anything in return.
There's too much at risk. What if I'm reading this wrong? What if he pulls away, horrified? What if I ruin everything?
But before I can overthink myself into oblivion, he moves. He leans forward, eyes closing, and kisses me. I'm so caught off guard that my eyes stay open, watching as his face gets closer, as his lips press against mine.
Soft. Warm. Perfect.
Holy shit, Casey Brennan is kissing me.
My eyes finally flutter closed as I sink into it, into him. His lips move against mine and I kiss him back like I've been thinking about doing since I walked into this shop yesterday.
He starts to lift his hand, toward my face, I think, but then stops, lowering it again. Probably because it's covered in grease and motor oil. I don't care. I don't care about anything except the feeling of his mouth on mine, the way he tastes like terrible coffee and something uniquely him.
We keep kissing, deeper now, and I lose track of time completely. Seconds, minutes, hours. Who the fuck knows?
When we finally break apart, we're both gasping.
And I'm so turned on I can barely think straight.
I squeeze my thighs together, trying to get some relief from the ache between my legs, but it only makes it worse. The friction of my panties against my pussy is almost painful, and I need more. I need his hands on me, his mouth, his cock.
I need everything.
"Fuck, I'm sorry," Casey says, running a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't have—"
"Don't," I interrupt. "Don't apologize. I wanted that. I wanted it as much as you did."
"Morgan—"
"We don't have to stop there," I blurt out.
His eyes widen. "What?"
Oh God, did I just say that out loud? Did I seriously just proposition him in his break room? What would Annie do? Probably congratulate me for having the courage, then call mean idiot for wanting to lose my virginity to a guy I just met in a fucking garage.
But I don't care. I'm done waiting. Done hoping for some perfect moment that might never come.
"Are you sure?" Casey asks, his voice rough. "Do you really want to... here?" He gestures around the dingy break room.
I laugh, a little breathless. "It's not exactly my dream location. But right now? I really don't care."
My eyes drop to his jeans, to the very obvious bulge straining against the denim. It's fucking huge, and it's throbbing, and it's because of me.
"And you don't seem to care either," I add, nodding toward his erection.
He lets out a strangled sound that's half-laugh, half-groan. "When you look like that and kiss that well, it's impossible to control myself."
No one has ever said that to me before. That I look good, that I kiss well, that I make them lose control. Men have kissed me before, sure. A few awkward makeout sessions in college, a couple of disappointing dates where the guy seemed more interested in his phone than my mouth.
But no one has ever looked at me like Casey's looking at me right now. Like he wants to devour me.
