Chapter 2Once you conquer your biggest insecurity, the world seems easy. #2
At Wrench Kings, when the guys change the oil in vehicles, they don’t have to jack them up.
They have the entire work bay beneath the garage floor, making oil changes quick and easy.
Doing things from home is never as easy, but learning things the more challenging way will make me a better mechanic.
At least, I like to tell myself that when I’m changing the oil of my mom’s early 2000s sedan with my nipples turning to glass cutters and my nose about to fall off.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m done, and Art helps me clean up. It doesn’t take Miller this long to change oil, but I remind myself that everyone starts somewhere. That even Atticus was an apprentice when he started. Even Beau took forty-five minutes to change oil when he began.
“You did good, my girl,” Art says with a broad, soft smile.
I can see the pain he’s feeling in the way the corner of his eyes pinch with each word and how his body tenses with every step he takes.
I feel bad for him, but the surgery he needs to correct his back issue is invasive, and it never feels like the time to do it.
Though I suspect as the number of days off grows longer, we’re quickly approaching the inevitable.
“Thanks,” I smile, the tip of my nose nearly numb at this point.
When we head back in, we catch up on mom’s work drama as we eat our homemade Chinese food.
After too many egg rolls and plenty of cabbage salad, I sweep the floor and take out the trash while Mara rinses and loads the dishes into the machine.
Mom rests– finally –watching Survivor in her recliner, shouting at Jeff Probst like her opinion matters to him.
When the kitchen is clean, the coffee beans are ground for tomorrow, and Art and mom’s mugs are out and ready to go, I look over Mara’s homework and finally head down the hall to my room.
I should get through another few pages in the book Art bought me for Christmas years ago, The Mechanics Bible, but as I strip out of my clothes and tug open my pajama drawer, I just don't have it in me. Instead, I fish my EarPods from my purse and pop them in, starting up a book I’m only a few chapters into.
Flopping down across my bed, cozy in fleece pajama pants with stars all over them and a Wrench Kings sweatshirt ruined by bleach and paint, I drop my forearm over my eyes and let out a very long sigh.
The book fills every inch of my brain as I hand over all my worries and exhaustion to the female narrator’s sexy, smoky voice.
I stroke my palm down the slick, rubber cock, loving how the lube glistens, like stars twinkling in a sky, making promises of dreams coming true. I curl my fingers into the underside of his chin and drag his mouth to the wide, wet tip.
“Open,” I tell him, and like a good boy, he obeys. Advancing my hips forward, his jaw spreads further as I nudge the cock onto his tongue. The noise his throat makes as he opens wide for me makes my clit pulse.
“Suck me and listen,” I tell him, placing my hands on his shoulders to feel the harsh flex of his muscles as he bobs down on my strap-on.
I look down to find him eagerly sucking my cock, only to catch a glimpse of his caged cock hanging desperately between his thighs.
On the floor, surrounded by his thick thighs and knees, is a shining drop of precum.
His caged cock is desperate to get hard and even more desperate for release; that much is clear by how he’s dripping freely to the floor below.
My stomach clenches at the discovery. He may actually make me cum just from being so pliable and good.
“Good boy,” I tell him as he bobs down on the length again, choking a little as his lips graze my groin.
“Now listen,” I start because I can feel myself unraveling and I don’t want to get lost in my good boy until he knows exactly what’s expected of him.
“I’ll own you for these months, my pet,” I purr down to him as his tongue circles the crown of my cock.
“You will give yourself to me completely. Utterly. No secrets, no limits. When I’m through with you, you will leave me stronger than you ever thought.
Stronger than any weightlifting could ever make you.
Because you’ll be strong here,” I whisper to him as he sucks, tapping the side of his head.
“Once you allow yourself to be handled and touched in all ways and allow yourself to see that everything is for love and pleasure rather than a measure of masculinity, you’re free. You’re free and unstoppable.”
She moans, and the scene continues, the gurgles of the male narrator making my skin grow bumpy with excitement. I stop the audio and drop my EarPods back into the magnetic case, putting them on the charger next to my bed.
I do not reach under the covers and let my hand discover just how much I liked that audio because my door isn’t locked, and I’m just so tired today.
It was a long day–a full eight hours at Wrench Kings, cooking dinner and changing the oil in mom’s car—a normal day, but it hit me harder than usual, and I’m pooped.
When I close my eyes, I think about Miller. And because I’m alone in my dark room and no one can ever know what I’m thinking, I let myself think about him. A smile tugs at my lips when I think about his goofy, lopsided smile and how he was so nervous asking that blonde woman out today.
I can feel his insecurity when I’m next to him, and I do not understand it. He’s a brilliant mechanic with an adorable smile, bright eyes, and incredibly disciplined physique. He laughs a ton and is incredibly thoughtful and so kind it makes me feel like a jerk most of the time .
Why is he insecure? What is making him so hesitant?
I think of the woman from my book. Her words swirl around me. Once you allow yourself to see that everything is for love and pleasure rather than a measure of masculinity, you’re free. You’re free and unstoppable.
Confidence has never been anything I’ve struggled with. I know my strengths, and I know my weaknesses, and I juggle them accordingly. But Miller seems confused or, at the very least, crippled by his limitations.
I could help him. Because this woman in this completely erotic and amazing book…
she's right. Whether it’s fiction or not, she’s absolutely right.
And I can’t help but snuggle down into my covers with satisfaction in my bones because…
I was telling Miller the same thing earlier. Less eloquently, of course, but still.
Once you conquer your biggest insecurity, the world seems easy.
I could help Miller with that because I’m pretty sure I know his biggest insecurity. And there are some things I could use help with, too.
It’s unlikely, and honestly, I’m shocked I’m even thinking about it, but maybe, just maybe, I could strike a deal with Miller.
I scratch your back; you scratch mine.
I force my eyes to stay shut and scream at my brain to turn off because I’m a real asshole without sleep.
But it’s hard to sleep because I can’t stop thinking about devising a plan.