Knocked up by the Mechanic

“I’d say the same for you, Harley. I know you’re not like those other girls.” I didn’t mean to be so blunt, but if I was going to, I also wanted her to let her guard down.

She pulled the pizza out of the Viking oven and put it on the island, then brought a cold six pack from the sub zero fridge and used what looked like a fancy art piece to open two of them.

“Salud,” she said, knocking the neck of her bottle against mine.

I watched her lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle and imagined them doing the same to my cock. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed and exposed her elegant neck. I held the beer to my lips watching her without taking a drink.

“Something wrong?” she asked lowering the bottle from her lips. Her eyes were so innocent and they slanted up in the corners giving her a come hither look. Problem was, she wasn’t making eyes at me, she just looked like that all the time, sexy, bedroom eyes that made me imagine everything I shouldn’t.

“I’m surprised you drink beer and eat pizza,” I said unapologetically.

“Why, cause my friends wouldn’t be caught dead with a carb in their hands? I like food. I love beer. Wine gives me a headache.”

“What about hard liquor?”

“That gives me a hangover. But we have some if you’d like?”

I shook my head and took a swig of my beer. Harley moved about the kitchen with ease, like she was used to doing things for herself which surprised me again. She got plates and slid two slices onto one and pushed it in front of me.

“I’m sorry they suck, Gianna especially.”

“I wouldn’t know, but rumors are rampant that Gianna sucks a whole lot.”

“Ugh,” she said and bit into her pizza.

I wasn't used to soft things, delicate things. My life was hard, it had always been a struggle. And I sure as fuck didn't have room for some do-gooder princess. I was probably a chump. I’d imagined her innocence. For all I knew, she was just like Gianna, a slut who had no problem using her body or her privilege to get whatever she yearned for. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t stay angry at her. The anger kept the other feelings at bay and helped to keep me from grabbing her.

"Sorry," I said. I kept my voice quiet. No longer did it have the knife's edge that it had a moment ago. "I’ve only ever had bad experiences with people like you."

"People like me?"

"The elite, the upper echelons, the crème de la crème," I scoffed.

“I don’t have money, my dad does,” she spat. She knocked back the beer again and swallowed hard.

“East Pointers, then, excuse me. I haven’t had much luck with people from this neighborhood.”

She pouted and it was sexy as fuck. I wanted to tear the tiny dress off her and push her up against the kitchen island and make her surrender to me, take all of my cock. I was hard again and for the umpteenth time that day and being in close proximity to her drove me fucking insane.

I was being an asshole and I knew it. But I was ok with that. It was better for her to hate me. We were better off existing in our own separate worlds and not crossing paths if we could help it. If she hated me, it’d be easier, and I sure as fuck didn't want to get caught up in whatever game she was playing.

"I'm not some rich fucking debutante whose only goal in life is to get married, you know." Her bottom lip jutted out again in protest, making me laugh.

“Oh fuck no, of course not. Not you.”

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Maybe,” I said, taking another swig of my beer. “A little," I said honestly. "Look at yourself, Harley. You live in a mansion, dress in expensive clothes, you drive a car that costs more than my house. If the label fits, why not just fucking wear it."

Anger flashed in her eyes and my dick surged in my pants. Then her face fell and she looked like she might cry. I wanted to take her pouty mouth and spank her for being such a rich spoiled brat. For not knowing how goddamn sexy she was or how insane she was making me.

Harley slugged back her beer like she was trying to prove something to me. She was standing while I was perched on one of the stools. Reaching out, I grabbed her chin in my hand and forced her to look at me. She grabbed my wrist immediately like she was afraid I might hurt her.

"Sorry," I said before I dropped my hand from her face. "I didn't mean anything by it. I know you’re a good kid and not like those other girls." I took a bite of my pizza and realized just how hungry I was.