Chapter 1: The Garage Game
The scent of motor oil and worn leather was a drug, a potent aphrodisiac that clung to Jax and seeped into Bella’s very pores. From her perch behind the counter of her tattoo studio, she had the perfect view through the connecting door into his garage. His broad, inked back flexed as he bent over the engine of a vintage pickup, muscles rippling with every twist of the wrench. A single bead of sweat traced a tantalizing path down his jaw, catching in the blond stubble before disappearing. He hadn’t spared her a glance in the hour since she’d arrived, and that deliberate neglect ignited a slow, simmering fire in her veins. It was their game—silent, torturous, and oh-so-delicious.
Bella’s fingers tightened around the edge of the counter, her breath shallow. She could almost feel the heat of his skin under her hands, the memory of tracing those tattoos with her needle and her tongue burning bright. Finally, his voice—a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to vibrate through the wall—cut through the hum of her idle machines. 'You gonna sit there starin’ all day, darlin’, or you got somethin’ you need?'
Her breath hitched. He knew. He always fucking knew. Sliding off the stool with deliberate slowness, she pushed open the door, the heavy air of the garage enveloping her like a lover’s embrace. 'Just admiring the view, Jax,' she shot back, her voice dripping with challenge, though it came out softer than she’d meant.
He straightened, turning to face her, and those piercing blue eyes pinned her in place across the concrete floor. Wiping his greasy hands on a rag, his gaze raked over her—lingering on the thin tank top clinging to her curves, the cutoff shorts hugging her hips. A slow, predatory smile curled his lips. 'That so?' He took a step forward, then another, his lazy confidence making her knees threaten to buckle. 'Looks to me like your engine’s runnin’ a little hot. Need an adjustment?'
Now he was right in front of her, his sheer size blocking out the world. He didn’t touch her, just loomed, his presence a silent command that made her pulse race. The air between them crackled, charged with every unspoken filthy promise in his stare. 'Maybe I do,' she breathed, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze, her defiance a spark to his fire.
He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice a rough whisper that sent shivers down her spine. 'Then let’s see how bad you need it. I’ve got just the tool to fix you up.'
Her body reacted before her mind could catch up, heat pooling low in her belly, her skin prickling with anticipation. She could feel how hard he was already, the tension in his frame promising something raw and unrelenting. 'You talk a big game, Jax,' she taunted, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. 'But can you handle me when I’m revved up?'
His chuckle was dark, dangerous. 'Oh, darlin’, I’m gonna do more than handle you. I’m gonna make you beg for every inch.' He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with her, his intent clear as day. 'Now, you gonna keep sassin’ me, or you gonna show me how wet you already are for this?'
Her lips parted, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but the raw hunger in his gaze silenced her. She knew what was coming—knew the second she gave in, he’d have her panting, sweating, dripping for him. And damn if she didn’t want it more than her next breath.
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