Damn. What’s he here for, again? And why aren’t they naked already?
Stepping around the side of the car, the mechanic wipes his hands on a greasy rag. There’s a thin line of oil beneath one red n****e, marring his bare, muscled chest. For some reason, Terrence finds that incredibly sexy, that one imperfection. If he touched the guy, his fingers would look like that, spread out like oil on that creamy skin. This time when his hands fist in his pockets, he shoves them deeper and presses against the start of an erection. Somehow he manages to find his voice. “Are you Gary?”
The mechanic laughs, a sound like bells, and Terrence finds himself grinning in reply. Of course this demi-god isn’t the f**k-up he spoke with on the phone, but he’s glad he asked, if only to elicit this response.
Terre
