I blinked in surprise and studied her posture. It was stiff and guarded, her breaths coming fast and shallow. Shit. Miri was afraid. Of me. She should be, of course. I was a very dangerous man who had done very terrible things. Things that would put me in jail for a long time if I were ever caught, and rightly so. Yet, the thought of frightening Miri, seeing her flinch when I came near, speared me right in the heart. I knew I deserved it after how I treated her, but it hurt just the same. With a tightness in my throat, I carefully spread a layer of antibiotic ointment and wrapped two bandages around the wound to make sure it would stay covered.
“Boss?”
Miri’s whisper broke me from my trance. I lifted my gaze from her finger to meet the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. I explored their depths, looking for something, anything to let me know Miri felt it too—the intense connection between us. Opposing magnets drawn together no matter how hard they tried to stay apart. I wanted her more than I’d wanted anything in my life, and I wasn’t used to denying myself.
Her pink tongue swiped over full lips and molten heat rolled over my skin, the fire spreading from the top of my scalp to the soles of my feet. God, she was so fucking hot. A world away from the pale, filthy, trembling thing that landed on my doorstep a couple of months ago, and even then she was attractive. I was about to lean in and suck that teasing, velvety tongue into my mouth when I felt Miri tug away.
“My hand, Boss. I need it.”
I glanced down and realized I still had her injured hand trapped between both of mine.
“Shit, sorry.” I released her and the skin on my neck burned with embarrassment. To put some necessary space between us, I stepped back. Distance was the only thing that would stop me from taking her.
“A-are you mad at me?”
My brow pulled low at the question. “Mad? What for, doll?” Miri dropped her head, once more biting on that damn lip.
“Because…” Miri gestured toward the Suzuki, tools still strewn about. “I touched your bike.”
Maybe I should have been mad. The Suzuki was a classic, and a rare one at that. Then I glanced at the mess and remembered how erotic of a picture she made lying beneath the motorcycle in that skimpy fucking dress. A strangled laugh escaped.
“Hell no, I’m not mad.” When
my gaze fell back on Miri, another one of those goddamn waves of heat surged through my veins. “I have to tell you, it’s fucking sexy that you know bikes, doll. You never fail to surprise me.” My voice caught in my throat and came out as a scratchy rasp.
The urge to touch her soft face, to taste her red lips, nearly broke my self-control. I had to divert my attention to something besides her tempting mouth. After a few deep, calming breaths, I asked Miri about the bikes.
“How do you know all this?”
She gave me a puzzled look. “All what?”
I grinned and moved over to the Suzuki, crouching to inspect her work. “Motorcycles. It sure looks like you know what you’re doing, doll.” My eyes roved over the immaculately clean chain, and a surge of pride swelled in my chest. “I have to admit, I never would have expected this from a little thing like you.”
Miri’s face darkened, that adorable chin jutted out, and she crossed her arms over her very distracting breasts. “Because I’m just a junkie whore, right? I couldn’t possibly be useful for anything else.”
“What?” I stood, my mouth gaping at her very blunt, very inaccurate conclusion. “No. I’m sorry I gave you the impression that I saw you that way, Miri. It’s not true.”
Miri didn’t respond, but she wouldn’t look at me either. I knew from the hurt on her face and the wet shine in her eyes, Miri was remembering the night I entertained my guests. Jesus, I did, in fact, treat her like a junkie whore. Fuck.
“Doll, please, come here.” When Miri didn’t move, I asked again. “Please? I’m not a man who begs or apologizes, Miri, so keep in mind this is incredibly rare for me.” She huffed, but stepped over to the Suzuki and stopped an arm’s length away. “Tell me about this.” I pointed at the motorcycle and the tools on the ground. “How did you learn bike maintenance?”
I lowered my body to sit on the carpet square and picked up the torque wrench. After a quick check to see how far Miri got, I continued to work on the chain she cleaned. Miri did such a good job it looked brand new. The chain lube was already next to the bike. She was thorough and well prepared, which appealed to my obsessive personality. When I reached for the lube, I heard a soft rustle and paused.
I turned my head, surprised to find Miri kneeling next to me on the square of carpet, close enough for our arms to brush against one another. My body reacted instantly. The fire from earlier returned, a hot, unrelenting flare of desire pulsing in my groin. I smothered a moan and resisted the temptation to adjust my dick.
Miri let out a sad sigh. “My dad worked at a garage. He began teaching me stuff when I was eight. When I left home, I worked as a mechanic for a couple years at a bike shop.”
My jaw dropped. This girl never ceased to amaze me. She was a fucking bike mechanic? My brain immediately conjured up an image of Miri wearing filthy coveralls. The front zipped down to the waist to reveal a thin white tank top with of course, no bra. Perfect for showcasing those small, pert breasts and hard nipples. My cock woke right back up, not that it had ever lost interest. I didn’t know if it’d ever lose interest in Miri.
“Your dad? He’s a mechanic?”
“Was.” I held my tongue and gave Miri a chance to continue. “He died when I was fourteen.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Whatever.” Miri’s tone made it clear the subject was off-limits.
“Well,” I said as I handed the bottle of chain lube to her. “Show me what you can do, doll. Then maybe we can take a ride if you want.”