15. Luka
15
LUKA
My hand was shaking as I rang Zander’s doorbell.
I was nervous, and I had no idea why.
I’d spent most of last night tossing and turning, my mind racing as thoughts ping-ponged around in my head. Memories of our JOI calls and him taking me apart in his hallway last night left my body tight and my dick hard, but as soon as I’d taken care of things, my anxiety spiked, and I spent the rest of the night freaking out that he regretted it and was already trying to find a way to let me down gently.
I felt marginally better after he’d texted to confirm our plans. But that relief had been short-lived, and I spent the afternoon and evening trying to distract myself so I didn’t end up in a full panic attack.
This wasn’t me. I wasn’t the type to get nervous before meeting up with someone, but Zander wasn’t just anyone. He was my friend, but more than that, he was the man who’d helped me discover a side of myself I’d repressed for years. He meant something to me, and I was terrified that he’d change his mind and realize I wasn’t what he wanted once the dust settled and he had time to think about the situation.
No matter what happened, things were about to get even more complicated between us. I went through the handbook Nate gave me when I was hired at the garage, and there was nothing in it about employees being in relationships with each other, or even if the shop had an official policy on the subject.
Working together also created a completely different set of problems that had nothing to do with the shop rules. We spent over forty hours a week together, most of them alone. Aside from our one weekend off a month, we saw each other six days a week. That created a sense of intimacy that wouldn’t be there if we weren’t coworkers.
One of the reasons my few relationships had worked for as long as they did was because we only saw or talked to each other a few times a week. It was the same reason my arrangement with Beth lasted so long. We’d gone weeks without seeing each other, so things stayed fresh and new until she’d changed the rules.
I didn’t have that separation with Zander, and I was terrified he’d get sick of me and I’d lose not only my friend, but the only person I’d felt a real connection with since I was seventeen.
Zander’s door swung open, and the noise in my head quieted.
“Hi.” He stepped back so I could come inside. His shy smile helped ease some of my fears. So did the genuine happiness in his eyes.
“Hi.” I closed the door behind me and kind of stood there. Should I kiss him hello? Was that something we did now? Did he want me to kiss him?
Zander studied me for a second, then stepped closer and gently pressed his lips to mine in a soft kiss.
My sigh was laced with relief when he pulled back. Whatever was going on between us might be new, but he was still Zander, the same kind and caring man I’d come to call my friend. I needed to stop stressing the fuck out over every little thing before I ruined our night together.
“Was that okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” My cheeks and chest heated with a blush.
He scraped his teeth over his lower lip and raked his gaze over my body elevator-style. “You look really good tonight.”
I’d put some effort into my outfit, choosing a pair of butter-soft jeans that fit me like a second skin and a black dress shirt that showed off my chest and arms. I went back and forth on whether I should dress up at all, changing my clothes four times before I ran out of time and went with the last thing I put on.
His heated gaze told me I made the right choice.
“Thanks.” I dragged my eyes up and down his body. “So do you.”
He’d also dressed up a bit. I was used to seeing him in sweats or loose jeans and baggy sweaters. His dark jeans clung to his long legs, and the soft blue dress shirt he had on was so light it was almost white. The top two buttons were undone, and he’d rolled the sleeves up, showing off his toned forearms. He’d also put on a silver bracelet and several silver rings that he sometimes wore when he wasn’t at work, and the contrast of the bright metal against his golden skin was way more interesting than it should have been.
“This is weird, right?” I blurted out, needing to break the silence that had fallen over us.
He huffed out a soft laugh. “Yeah, it is.”
“It shouldn’t be. I mean, we’re friends, right? But this isn’t really a friend thing. I mean, I haven’t blown any of my other friends or seen their O face,” I babbled, my chest heating uncomfortably at the memory of Zander’s face when he’d come last night and shot his load down my throat. I shook my head and let out a hollow laugh. “I’m not making things better, am I?”
“Not really, but I like you all awkward and stammering.” The corner of his lips curled up in a sexy smirk.
“Then you’re in luck because this seems to be my default setting tonight,” I joked.
“Luka,” he said in that rumbly voice I liked way too much. “It’s okay.” He gently held my upper arms and gave me a warm smile. “Just try to relax and be yourself tonight.”
“Are you sure? Being myself is usually the best way to make people run for the hills. That’s a weird saying, isn’t it?” I said in a rush, not sure why I was still talking but unable to stop. “Do you think anyone has ever actually specifically run for the hills to get away from someone? Is it that much of a thing that they had to make a saying about it?” I snapped my mouth closed, finally getting a hold of myself. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous.”
He squeezed my arms reassuringly. “It’s fine. And no apologizing for things that don’t warrant an apology, okay?”
“Okay.” I could feel some of the tension melting out of me at the reassuring words coupled with the tender look in his eyes.
“Want to check out my garage?” he asked, letting go of my arms.
My skin chilled at the loss of contact, and I had the insane urge to hug him. Just wrap my arms around him and hold him close so I could feel all of him against me.
I pushed that thought out of my head. “Do I even have to answer that? Of course I do.”
Chuckling, he motioned to the door I’d assumed led to his garage. He pulled it open and flipped on the light.
I looked around the space, my head on a swivel, as I followed him down a short flight of wooden steps.
The garage was bigger than I thought it would be. His house was the style that had the garage built into the structure instead of it being a separate building attached to the house. I’d assumed it would be big enough for a single car and maybe some storage based on the narrow driveway.
Width-wise, the garage was as big as I’d suspected, but it was almost twice as deep and could probably fit two cars if they were bumper to bumper.
My gaze landed on the Camaro sitting in the middle of the space. He hadn’t been lying when he said it was stripped to the bones. The paint job had seen better days, but the body was in decent shape with only a few minor dings and some scratches that would be easy enough to buff out. The interior, however, was a mess. It looked like someone had taken a machete to the seats, and almost all the carpeting had been ripped out. The glove box didn’t have a cover on it, and the radio was gone. I could only imagine what kind of shape the engine was in if the exterior was this bad.
“The cops did a number on it,” he said, stopping next to the car. “I work on it when I can, but the parts aren’t cheap, so I haven’t made much headway.”
“Do you know what they were looking for?” I walked a slow circle around the vehicle, taking in every detail.
“No clue. Probably drugs or weapons. Or maybe they just wanted to fuck something up.” He shrugged. “Who knows.”
I stopped in front of the car and pointed to the hood. “Can I?”
He nodded.
I popped it and held it up, not bothering with the kickstand, and checked out the engine. About half of the components were new, but the ones that weren’t were in even worse shape than the interior.
The car had been horribly neglected for years. I couldn’t imagine it being drivable, even before the cops went hog wild on the interior. “How long was it in police custody before they sold it off?”
“Not sure.” He came to stand next to me. “They don’t release a lot of details when they auction them. I just know that they didn’t find any drugs, weapons, or human remains in it.”
“I beg your finest pardon. Human remains ?” I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice. “They auction off cars people have died in?”
“Or been found dead in.”
“That’s messed up.”
“It is,” he agreed. “You couldn’t pay me to take a car with that kind of bad energy attached to it. The only reason I bid on this one was because the listing said nothing had been found in it and it had been impounded as part of a property seizure warrant and not because they thought the car was directly linked to any crimes.”
“Yeah, no thank you to a crime car. Especially not one where someone died. That’s just asking to be haunted.” I suppressed a shudder and closed the hood.
Curiously, I glanced around the garage. The far wall was covered in shelves holding large storage tubs. The wall next to the door was set up like a workshop with a large worktable, a bench covered with tools, and jars of various screws, nails, and bolts. The wall above the bench had more tools tacked to it, and several bins were stacked next to a beat-up toolbox like the one he had at work. There were also two sets of coveralls hanging on pegs next to the door.
The area across from the garage door held an ancient fridge, a beat-up microwave on a metal shelf, and a couple of chairs.
“This is a nice setup,” I commented, giving the garage another once-over. “One day I want something like this. If I’m ever able to buy a house. Can’t really have a workshop in an apartment.”
He looked around. “I was lucky I bought this place before the market went crazy. It’s so insane to think that I couldn’t afford to buy in to this neighborhood now, not with what I make, and the shop pays us well compared to a lot of places.”
I nodded in agreement. Nate and Dev paid a very competitive wage, and I was making significantly more working at Legacy Mechanics than I did at my old shop. They also paid overtime, didn’t make us clock out for our breaks, and gave out bonuses at Christmas based on how well the shop had done that year.
It was night and day compared to my old shop.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever have this,” I said honestly. “It feels like it’s becoming more of a pipe dream the older I get. I make more now than I ever have, but I’ve never been this poor.”
“Yeah, it’s a different world out there than the one they promised us.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He nodded.
“How did you afford to buy this place at twenty-one? Even if it was considered affordable back then, it just seems so crazy to buy a house at that age.”
“My divorce.” He shot me a wry grin.
“Your divorce?”
“Once we paid off all of our debts and split our assets, there was enough left for me to put a down payment on this place.”
“Wow, that’s lucky.” I winced. “I mean, it’s lucky because of the timing, not because you got divorced.”
“I figured that’s what you meant.” He smiled shyly at me.
The air in the room seemed to thicken as our eyes locked, and time did this strange thing where it seemed to slow down, stretching between us and making every moment feel a little longer than usual.
Zander’s gaze dropped to my mouth, and he dragged his tongue over his lower lip.
My body tightened with awareness, and my breathing picked up.
Zander’s eyes met mine again, and the heat in them was so strong it made my breath catch.
Taking a chance, I slipped my hand into his.
He laced our fingers together and held tight.
That simple move made my pulse race, and my mouth went dry as he flicked his gaze to my lips again.
Not thinking too hard about what I was doing, I gently tucked a lock of hair that had fallen over his cheek behind his ear with my other hand.
Zander stood completely still, his intense gaze locked on mine.
Swallowing the lump of excitement in my throat, I ran the backs of my fingers over the light blanket of stubble covering his cheek. The slight rasp against my skin sent shivers of awareness through me, and my cock went half-hard in my briefs.
“Is this okay?” I whispered, tracing one finger down his sharp jawline.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
With my heart pounding in my chest, I leaned in and brushed my mouth over his in a soft kiss.
His lips parted on a sigh, and I did it again, kissing first his bottom lip, then the top one.
Needing more, I cupped his face and slotted our mouths together. He moaned and kissed me back, yanking me against his solid body and holding me close.
I plunged both hands into his thick hair, pushing the long strands back and from his face as I gave myself over to the moment—and to him.
One of his hands splayed over my back, and the other slid down to my ass, kneading and squeezing the sensitive globe as he pressed his hardening cock against mine.
I whimpered and pressed closer.
He tore his mouth from mine. “What do you want, Luka?”
His lips were kiss-swollen and red, his cheeks were ruddy, and his gaze was so full of heat my knees went weak.
“You.” I tilted my head to the side.
He accepted my unspoken invitation and dropped a line of nibbling kisses against my neck, then closed his mouth over my pulse point and gently sucked.
I gasped as a bolt of white-hot desire shot through me.
“Want you to fuck me,” I managed to scrape out.
He released my neck and lifted his head to look at me. “Are you sure?”
A laugh bubbled out of my chest. “I’m sure. I wanted it for so long.”
He paused, his eyes clouding over with something I couldn’t read.
“What?”
“Do you mean with me, or with my handle?” he asked quietly.
“You,” I said, looking him in the eyes so he’d know I was telling the truth. “I’ve wanted you since the day I met you, long before I ever logged on to Kinksters and started talking with your handle.”
His kiss was hard and rough and absolutely perfect. I melted against him, letting him take over and loving every second of his aggression.
“Let’s go to my room,” he said, his voice a low growl that was way too hot. “Otherwise I’m going to bend you over my Camaro and fuck you until you come all over it.”