About an hour later the engine’s idling, unbearably loud in the garage, but the knocking has stopped and the motor purrs like a kitten. Jimmy’s hands and chest are streaked with grease, and his unbuttoned jeans are the only reminder of their mid-morning tryst. “That should about do it,” Jimmy says, leaning into the open window of the Mercedes. “Nothing a new set of spark plugs couldn’t fix.”
Terrence sits back in the driver’s seat so he can look up at the mechanic. There’s a sparkle in Jimmy’s eyes he put there. Such a sexy guy. In a place like this… who would’ve thought?
Lifting one large, dark hand off the steering wheel, Jimmy raises it to his lips and kisses it. His fingers curl around Terrence’s with a possessive air. “I hope I don’t have to wait for another problem with your car be
