for that. His attitude plus his body... and what a body … belonged on a cover of a sexy magazine made entirely for women’s delight .
“Hello there, sugar,” Mister-macho-man said, and Jess lost her voice. His baritone voice combined with the insolent glint in his eyes. He did a slow inventory of her body, pausing at her best assets.
His eyes were a vivid ocean blue, the kind a woman fantasized about, and Jess was certainly intoxicated by his eyes. They almost stole her breath away. Silent, they took in one another. Words were not needed at the moment.
Jess was intimidated and somehow also fascinated by him, and it wasn’t her fault. He was big and scary. He was the kind of man who inhabited wet dreams— an authentic male, all tattooed with raw virility that seemed caged and ready to attack.
Jess changed her mind, her fiction hero was nothing compared to the macho man before her. Since Jess didn’t answer, he arched a perfect brow at her. Then, the cocky bastard smirked with a big wink, as if he was already in her pants, and said, “Want to take a picture? It will last longer.”
That did it for her. The enchantment was broken.
Jess was used to men like him. Her big, scary brothers were proof of that—thinking of big scary men, she took a clinical look this time at the stranger and noticed that he had the same features and brutal energy as a motorcycle bad boy. Shit. She knew very well his type and would definitely not get enchanted with this bad boy. Been there, done that, and it didn’t end well , she thought. She decided to treat Mister-macho-man there the same way she would treat men who thought they were the last cookie in the package.
Son of a... She swallowed the insult and neutralized her face, as if she had not heard his comment. She outlined a cynical smile and said as natural as she would to any customer, “How can I help you?”
Mister-macho-man looked at Jess, really looked at her, and raised a brow, as if he had been studying a rare species. It was clear that denial wasn’t something he was used to.
“Well, that’s a first.”
“What?”
“Nothing, beautiful. Where do you keep the good stuff here?” he said suggestively, but Jess continued her professional façade.
Out of habit, she took a quick look at the clock and internally groaned; yet, she forced herself to smile at the customer and asked, “What are you looking for?”
Josh
When Victor called early in the morning because his favorite car suffered an “accident” and needed a replacement right away, Josh knew that he was going to spend all day hunting for the piece in every salvage yard in town.
Because Victor’s cars were all old-school jewels, it wasn’t easy to find pieces for his babes, as he liked to call them. Victor was an important client and paid well, Josh just didn’t like his demands. The guy was into street racing and old cars, and Josh was his mechanic. So, it was his responsibility to make Victor’s babes shine, run faster, and beat the crap out of his enemies in terms of style, speed, and performance.
Josh had a reputation to keep. His garage was known as the place where car and bike lovers could “pimp their ride.” He still knew a lot about cars; but, bikes were, and forever would be, his passion. He was even in a motorcycle club: Brothers in Fire. He loved his club, the people there were his family.
The garage was his second home, so that was why he worked to keep the good reputation of the place. In simple words, he had to fulfill Victor demands.
***
The sun was setting and still Josh couldn’t find that one piece he needed the most. There was only one salvage yard left that he knew of, and it was at the far end of town. He didn’t know what else he could do besides drive there and hope that they had what he was looking for.
When he entered the big salvage yard, he went directly to their office. He was tired
Jean-Marie Blas de Robles