“You do all the trim, all the cutting in, and all I do is the rolly thing on the big surfaces.” I make the motion, like I have a roller in my hand.
“This might not actually go any faster then,” Weston groans.
“Those are my terms, take it or leave it,” I say, arms extended out to my side.
“And here I thought I was doing you a favor,” he grumbles, lips still twitched upward.
“May this be a valuable life lesson for you. Being a good person comes with a heavy cost.”
“Is this the only cost then? Doing the shittiest parts of the job to be graced with your presence while I do it?”
I wiggle my head side to side, weighing over the final term I’d like to barter.
“There isonemore thing,” I say delicately.
“Here we go,” he says, with absolutely no acidity, like he’s gearing up for a joyride. I half expect him to rub his hands together, but he must have more self-discipline than Wyatt seems to think, and he holds himself back.
I let out a sigh, laying it on thick as I tilt my head to one side. “I do think it would be aslightlyunfair working environment considering every day I show up on the job, you’ll know exactly what I have going on beneath this,” I gesture to my shirt. “And I’ll still be wondering what’s going on under that.” My head inclines toward his body with meaning.
He gets a knowing glint in his eyes and nods at me, faux seriousness in the motion.
“That would be a drastically unfair advantage, I agree.”
Nodding, I fold my arms over my chest expectantly and wait.
“Any special requests?” he asks me.
“I don’t need rose petals and candlelight, if that’s what you mean. It’s just, since you offered the other night… I can’t stop wondering. Put me out of my misery, West.”
His lips twitch, but he tries to stay deadpan. “I just didn’t know if you’d rather see him… ready to go, shall we say?”
“Sure, if the offer’s on the table. It’ll be a lot easier to get off to the thought when I can picture him hard, rather than dangling in elephant trunk mode.”
Weston huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Not holding back, are you, darlin’?”
“What, like you’re not thinking of my tits every night?”
His lips tilt up in a devilish grin. Caught him.
“I’m just leveling the playing field. Filling up my spank bank to match yours. So how does this work?” I ask. “Is this just an on-demand thing, we just place the order, wait a few minutes, and he’ll be good to go?”
“It won’t take a few minutes,” he says, eyes zeroing in on my body. “Shit, I have to worknotto be hard around you, Amelia.”
I didn’t think there was a breeze today, but a chill sweeps my body like there was, and I feel my nipples perk up to attention beneath the phantom touch. His eyes don’t miss it, heating at the visual, and I watch his hands drift to the front of his pants.
“Matter of fact, he’s good to go.”
Fixated, my eyes don’t move from his hands on his fly, even if my tongue might have a mind of its own as it sweeps my lower lip eagerly.
“And to clarify, after this, we have a deal, right darlin’?”
“Yep,” I promise. “After this, I’m all yours.”
Those words ring out through the shop, and I hear how it sounded.
“For painting. While you’re fixing my van, I mean.” Never mind that it feels like he’s already sneaked into a place within me no one else has managed to find in a long, long time.
This might be the worst idea I’ve ever had—aside from the reason my life turned out this way in the first place. To keeppushing the boundaries when it comes to flirting with this man. To follow his lead and then take it two steps farther.
