I came back the next day in tighter jeans.
No underwear.
Don't judge me—I was past shame and halfway into obsession.
Jesse didn't comment when I walked in. He just glanced at me once, jaw ticking slightly, and went back to the open hood of a car. But I saw the way he gripped the wrench. Too tight. Like he wanted it to be something else.
Or maybe someone.
"Back on tire duty," he said, tossing me gloves without looking up.
That was fine.
Because today, I wasn't here to be helpful.
I was here to get under his skin and crawl into the part of him he kept locked away like a sin.
---
Hours passed.
Sweat rolled down my neck.
Every time I stretched, I did it slow. Deliberate. Let my shirt ride up, just enough to tease the trail of skin that led somewhere filthy.
I caught him staring.
Twice.
And both times, he looked away like it cost him something.
---
Lunch hour came.
The shop emptied out.
It was just me and Jesse now.
I leaned against the counter, eating from a bag of chips, slow and loud.
Jesse walked by, grabbed a bottle of water, and finally said, "Why are you here?"
I blinked. "You hired me, remember?"
"No." He faced me. "Why are you really here?"
My fingers tightened around the bag.
He didn't wait for an answer.
"You want to flirt? Go to the bar. You want to act like a brat? Do it outside. But you do not play that game with me. Not here. Not on my floor."
He stepped closer. Not touching. But I felt it.
Heat. Gravity. Command.
It vibrated off him like thunder still hiding in the clouds.
"Shop floor rule," he said. "You want to test me—do it outside these doors."
My pulse stuttered.
"What happens if I do?" I asked, voice hoarse.
His eyes darkened.
Then he whispered, low and lethal—
"I'll remind you what silence tastes like when it's moaned into my palm."
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
I forgot how to breathe.
He walked away like he hadn't just said that.
Like he hadn't just flipped my spine inside out and left me standing there shaking.
---
That night, I stared at the ceiling in bed, hard and aching and furious at how badly I wanted him to break his own rule.
Because I would walk outside those doors.
I'd step into the dark.
And I'd let him ruin me there—without a word.