The Mechanic

  The Mechanic

  By

  Trinity Marlow

  Copyright © 2011 by Trinity Marlow

  TrinityMarlow.com

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Trinity Marlow.

  Cover art by Heidi Sutherlin

  My Creative Pursuits

  Edited by Carol R. Ward

  carolrward@gmail.com

  Chapter 1

  Alyssa used one hand to shield her eyes from the late afternoon sun. "Finally," she murmured, relieved to see buildings just a little further up the road. Without thinking, she wiped her brow with the sleeve of her white linen jacket. Lowering her arm, she swore at the dark beige smear of makeup left behind.

  "Dammit! What else can possibly go wrong?"

  She adjusted her purse on her shoulder, and kept walking, her feet stinging in the expensive, white peep-toe heels she'd bought just for the interview in Billings. Not that it mattered now. The HR director at the marketing firm had been very clear that punctuality and overtime weren't optional. Between sleeping through the hotel alarm that morning and her car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, she didn't have a chance of being on time.

  Heat radiated up from the asphalt in waves, and if it wasn't for the stupid shoes, she'd leave the road and hike across the scrubby terrain. The buildings were getting closer, but her heart sank as she realized there were only three. Not a town then. Or not anymore, at least. Hopefully it wasn't abandoned. Her cell phone had no coverage on this ridiculously isolated stretch of road, and it would be dark soon. Just the thought of being stranded by herself at night had her picking up the pace.

  It was another fifteen minutes before she reached the main structure, a gas station that had clearly seen better days. Newer model cars were parked around the sides, and the other two buildings looked well-kept, if old. She peered in the front window, the sight of a pop machine and a computer on the counter bringing a slight smile to her lips. Clearly someone still worked there, and she hurried to the front door, nearly tripping on the threshold as she stepped into the office. A bell jingled behind her as the door shut, but the blast of cool air she was hoping for never came. Two fans moved the air around a little, but it was just as stifling inside as it was out.

  Letting out a sigh, she looked around the deserted office. There was a phone on the desk, but she'd seen a tow truck outside. Maybe whoever worked here could haul her car in and fix it. That would be faster than having anyone else come out.

  The faint sound of metal striking metal came from somewhere to her left, and she saw a door that must lead to the garage bays she'd noted out front. Heels clicking on the laminate floor she followed the sound, stopping suddenly when she reached the source. A tall, muscular man stood bent over the engine of a car, the tan skin of one muscular arm a sharp contrast to the white tank he wore. Dark hair cropped short, it was his familiar profile that arrested her. It couldn't really be Mike Galway, could it? What would he be doing way out here, in Montana no less? She’d been two years behind him in school - last time she'd seen him had been at his high school graduation. After giving him her virginity the night before, she'd stupidly thought it meant something.

  Stop it , she mentally scolded. It's not him. You're hallucinating . Suddenly feeling ill, she leaned against the door frame. She'd ask for help, and then get some water from the machine out front.

  "I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help me?" He turned toward her, and her pulse started pounding under her skin. It was him, and judging from the look on his face, he was not happy to see her. This day couldn't possibly get any worse.

  * * *

  Mike considered pretending not to recognize the half-wilted woman in his doorway, but one look at her crimson face told him she wouldn't fall for it. Just as she hadn't twelve years ago when he'd tried to ignore her at graduation. She'd been pretty homely back then with her braces, stringy unkempt hair and grubby clothes with the non-designer holes slashed in them. But he'd won a couple hundred bucks in a bet with his buddies who dared him to sleep with the grossest girl in school, and at the time it had been a matter of pride.

  Or a really stupid high-school prank.

  "Alyssa Peterson," he said, acknowledging the connection. "What brings you all the way up here? Colorado not exciting enough for you anymore? Or are you just on vacation?"

  She shrugged halfheartedly, looking down at the floor. "I lost my job, and needed something...different. I have - well, had, anyway - a job interview in Billings." She glanced up, her eyes focused on his face, but not meeting his gaze. "I thought you went back east after..." She left the sentence unfinished, clearly uncomfortable remembering their last meeting.

  He took pity on her. "I did for awhile. Didn't like all the people and came back to start my own shop four years ago. Been here ever since." Taking in her designer jeans, shoes that looked expensive underneath all the dirt and the linen jacket, he guessed she'd done all right for herself. Though her hair was still stringy and there was a big dark spot on her sleeve. Maybe things hadn't changed so much after all.

  "So what can I do for you, Alyssa?" He wiped his hands on a dirty rag and started walking toward her, frowning as he got closer. She looked ill, and when she tried to step back, she swayed on her heels.

  "My car," she said, shaking her head like she was trying to clear her thoughts. "It broke down a couple miles back. If I could use your phone, and maybe get a bottle of water, I'll get out of your way." She swayed again, and when he reached out to steady her, she stumbled against his chest. "Sorry," she said, trying to regain her balance. "I think I need to sit down."

  Mike laid his hand over her forehead as she clung to his shoulder with one hand. Cool and moist, her skin was flushed and her words suddenly sank in. "Did you walk from your car in this heat? In those shoes?"

  She nodded, the movement slow as she contemplated her feet. "I loved these shoes."

  Mike shook his head and scooped her up in his arms, trying to ignore how good she felt against his chest. It had obviously been too long since he'd had a date. "You should have stayed with your car." He carried her down the hall and to the right, carefully moving up the stairs to his apartment. "We have to cool you down. I need to take your clothes off."

  She murmured something against his neck as he set her down on his bed and brushed her jacket off her shoulders. Reaching for the hem of her tee shirt, he pulled it off over her head, sucking in a breath at the sight of the nearly-sheer peach bra she wore. She'd certainly filled out, he thought wryly as he gently pushed her back on the bed. Eyes closed and chestnut hair fanned out behind her, she made a delectable picture. His cock stirred in response, and he took another deep breath as he slipped her shoes off. Opening her jeans he tugged them off her hips and down her legs, nearly groaning when they fell open, exposing a peach thong to match her bra that did nothing to hide the view of her clean-shaven pussy.

  He turned and went into the bathroom, running cool water into the tub while he attempted to regain control. Splashing some of the water on his own face, he went back to the bedroom and gathered her up in his arms, leaving her underwear on. She shivered as he lowered her into the water. He took a wet cloth and smoothed it over her face, then tipped her head back to get her hair wet. A few minutes later, color started returning to her face and she slowly opened her eyes.

  "Mike?" She smiled shyly, reaching out to trail a wet fin
ger down his neck. He just stared at her, muscles flexing under her touch, waiting for her to realize where she was. Something told him it wasn't going to be pretty when she did.

  Chapter 2

  Best. Dream. Ever.

  Heat seared Alyssa's finger as she traced the hard lines of muscle down Mike's collarbone to his chest. She'd done it a hundred times in her dreams, but it had never seemed this real. Taking her time, she watched his face, expecting the slow, seductive smile she'd seen a hundred times. But his expression remained serious, and there was a wariness in his eyes that wasn't normally there.

  She pulled away, her letting her smile fade as she looked around the small, utilitarian bathroom. Something wet slipped down her arm, and she frowned, looking at the strap of her bra with growing unease. Why would she take a bath with her underwear on? Everything came back like a freight train, and she pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly as she remembered Mike taking her clothes off. Or had that just been part of the dream?

  She shivered, cold suffusing her body just as the heat had earlier. "I...um...sorry," she said, positive her face was beat red. "I didn't...I mean, I thought I was dreaming." As soon as the words were out, she wanted them back. Had she really just told Mike Galway she was dreaming about him? Or implied that she had, anyways? This day really couldn't get any worse, could it?

  "It's okay. You had heat exhaustion. I had to cool you off before it turned into heat stroke, and this was the quickest way to do that." He stood up, opening a cabinet somewhere behind her. "Come on, I'll help you out. You need to drink some water."

  "Um, thanks, but you can just leave a towel. I can take it from here." He wanted her to stand up while he watched? She didn't think so. At least he'd left her bra and panties on, but they were nearly sheer dry, and wouldn't hide anything wet. Besides, she needed to take them off. The wet fabric was making her skin crawl.

  He didn't move. "Sorry, but I don't want you falling and cracking your head open if you're still dizzy when you stand up. 'Fraid you're stuck with me for awhile longer."

  She looked up at him, holding a towel open for her. His flat expression made her want to scream. "I'm not getting out of this tub while you're here. And that's final." She looked at the wall in front of her, planning to ignore him until he left. From the corner of her eye she saw the towel swing down as he laid it nearby on the sink. Relaxing a little, she waited for him to leave as she shivered in the cool water.

  Then strong hands slipped under her arms and hauled her up out of the water. Her back practically sizzled when it made contact with that broad, bare chest, and she gasped at the hard ridge in his pants that nestled snuggly in the crack of her ass as he held her tight. Her head spun, and she knew that if he hadn't been holding her she would have slipped to the floor. By the time the room was steady again, he'd wrapped the towel around her and hoisted her into his arms.

  Mortified, she wasn't sure what to do as he carried her out of the room and set her down on a bed. "Do you always just force women to do what you want, or am I a special case?" she asked, something telling her she really didn't want to know the answer.

  A hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth as he placed one hand on either side of her and leaned in, forcing her to lay back on the bed if she wanted any space at all. "I like to be in charge," he said, his face just inches from hers, his hard thighs pressing hers open. "And I think," he paused, staring deeply into her eyes, "that you need someone to be in charge. At least until you're feeling better." He pushed away then, and left her panting on the bed as she tried to catch her breath.

  "I left some shorts and a t-shirt on the bed for you. Sorry I didn't have any ladies underwear, but you can hang yours in the bathroom to dry. I'll be back in ten minutes to check on you." His footsteps were firm on the floor as he walked out, shutting the door behind him with a click.

  * * *

  Alyssa stared at the ceiling after he left. If his intention had been to cool her down, he'd failed miserably. He liked to be in charge? What was that all about? Images of kinky activities she'd read about in her special ebook file came to mind, and her cheeks burned wondering what it would be like to actually do some of them. With Mike.

  Warm moisture pooled between her legs at the thought, and she pulled the towel off, reaching down to lightly flick her clit with her fingers. Ten minutes , she thought as she pushed off her wet panties and freed her breasts from their wet prison. Laying back, she opened her legs and closed her eyes. In her mind she was naked too, her wrists tied and stretched overhead. Her legs were spread wide, held open by wide cuffs at her ankles locked to metal poles Mike stood in front of her, shirtless in black leather pants and bare feet. He reached out and flicked his wrist, sending the tails of a small flogger stinging across one breast, then the other. She arched forward as moisture leaked from her core, her nipples burning for more. Again the leather sang across her chest, and then not even a second later, over her swollen pussy. She moaned around the thick rope he'd used to gag her as he whipped her lower lips again. "Oh God, don't stop," she mumbled as he slipped the end of the flogger inside her wet channel, fucking her hard with the thick handle as he went down on his knees and suckled her clit.

  "Yes, oh yes, Mike!" she cried as he bit down, triggering a strong orgasm that sent her whole body into convulsions. He pulled the flogger out and replaced it with his mouth, catching every bit of her juices with his tongue, until finally she settled with a long sigh. Loathe to open her eyes just yet, she stretched her arms and legs, surprised at how real the daydream had been. Her hands had been grasping the pillow over her head, and when she started to lower them, iron fingers clamped around her wrists, pinning them to the bed.

  She gasped, opening her eyes to find Mike leaning over her again, those crystal blue eyes staring at her so intently she squirmed. She could smell herself on his lips, and embarrassment flooded through her as she realized it had been him all along.

  "I--um..." she closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, mortified. She'd been wrong before. This was definitely worse. He leaned down, pressing his hard chest against her sensitive nipples as he spoke a low command in her ear.

  "Get dressed, Alyssa. Then come downstairs."

  He released her and she watched him walk out the door again, the greasy blue jumpsuit still hanging at his waist. She rolled to her side and sat up, her inner thighs still throbbing from his attention.

  "Fuck."

  Shaking, she pulled on the clothes he'd left for her, the shorts barely covering her ass, and the tight white tee shirt only serving to accentuate her still-aroused state. Going into his closet she found a light blue button-down shirt and pulled it on, rolling up the sleeves and tying the ends together for a more presentable look. Using the towel she fluffed her hair dry as well as she could and then hung the towel in the bathroom with her bra. She rinsed out her underwear and hung them up too, wishing she'd brought her bag with her from the car.

  Finally, she faced the fact that there wasn't anything else to do. She had to face him sometime. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly and went to find her way downstairs.

  Chapter 3

  Mike took a long drink of ice water from a bottle while he waited for Alyssa. It had been a long time since he'd been with a woman who seemed receptive to his need for control. He hadn't been able to resist when he'd seen Alyssa lying on the bed, her hand between her legs as she cried out his name. She'd tasted sweet when she came in his mouth, and when he'd pinned her to the bed, she hadn't struggled. She probably wasn't even aware that her hips had arched up against his when he'd told her to get dressed.

  Back in high school, he hadn't been aware of his need to dominate his sexual partners. He'd known something was missing, but it had taken a wild spring break and an experienced friend to finally face the fact that his tastes were outside the scope of normal . His first time with a submissive had been incredibly freeing, and he'd been looking for the perfect partner ever since. Moving back west had pre
tty much dried up the well though, and while he occasionally brought a girl home for the night, he'd never quite found one who could understand or put up with his needs.

  A creak from the hall told him Alyssa had found the stairs. She stepped tentatively through the doorway a few seconds later, a pretty blush on her cheeks and the tight loaner-clothing topped with one of his winter work shirts. Was she the one? He decided a preliminary test was in order.

  "I didn't give you permission to borrow that shirt," he said, taking a sip of water. "Take it off."

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her fingers toying with the tails that extended over her belly. "My bra is still--"

  "Now." He waited, trying not to get his hopes up. If she refused, he'd fix her car and send her on her way as soon as possible. If not...

  She yanked the knot out and shrugged the shirt off her shoulders, balling it up and tossing it in his face. It was all he could do not to grin like an idiot, even as a button flicked hard against his ear. He draped the material over the arm of his chair, and held up a bottle of water.

  "Drink up," he said, tossing it to her. She caught it and tilted her head back for a few swallows. Mike admired the view as she stood sideways. Long, slender legs, tight little ass, curvy hip bones and a small waist made him want to pull her into his lap. Her breasts were medium sized and perky even without support, her small nipples pebbled against the restrictive cotton. A long, graceful neck and angular cheekbones were offset by that chestnut hair she'd worn long ever since he'd met her. The memory of that body splayed out naked on his bed had his cock pressing insistently against his zipper.

  The bell strap on the door jingled, and Evan, his business partner came in. One look at Alyssa and he stopped cold, smiling widely. Alyssa gasped and turned toward Mike, who couldn't quite stifle a grin after all.