He reaches out, wiping a smudge of grease from my face with the pad of his thumb.
“How did you get grease on your face?” he chuckles.
“While I was at it, I checked a few more things I wanted to make sure were in working order, and I changed the oil.”
Ares pulls me closer, sliding his hands into the back pockets of my denim shorts. “Do you have any idea how hot it is to have a girlfriend who’s as good a rider as I am and who’s mechanically savvy?”
“No. Because I’m a better rider than you.” I tease him.
He takes my bottom lip between his teeth and tugs gently. “Maybe. But to answer my original question, you’re smoking hot.”
My fingers play with the short hair at the nape of his neck. “So are you.”
“Do you want to go upstairs? I can show you just how hot I think you are.”
I can feel him harden against my stomach. “Mom and Scott are at work, and Chance and Lev are at practice. So I think you could definitely show me a few things.” I whisper, rubbing his erection through his jeans.
“Fuck yeah.” Ares lifts me with a low growl, and I wrap my thighs around his waist.
The noise of someone clearing their throat stops us a few steps before the entrance of the garage.
The door is only halfway open, so we can’t see the face of the man standing right on the threshold. But I would recognize that voice and those black riding boots anywhere.
“Dad?” I gasp, climbing out of Ares’s arms and running outside.
I run into my dad’s open arms and inhale the familiar scent of his aftershave. “What are you doing here?”
“We’ll get to that in a minute.” He smiles, pulling me back to look at me after giving me one of his famous bear hugs. “First let me look at my main girl. You look beautiful, Doctor. You look happy.”
“Doctor?”
The excitement of seeing my dad in person after over nine months from the last time had almost made me forget that Ares was with me.
“That’s his nickname for me.” I explain. “Mom called me John Junior, but Dad has always called me The Doctor, after my idol, Valentino Rossi.”
“Your idol after me.” Dad chuckles.
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Of course. No one could ever beat you in my heart, Dad.”
“Not in your heart and not even on the racetrack. Since I’ve won two more championships than he has.” He winks, as he always does, every time Valentino is mentioned.
His green eyes, so similar to mine, are lit up with amusement. This has always been our running joke.
“Dad,” I say, looking at the Ducati Multistrada parked in the driveway. “What are you doing here? Does Mom know you’re here?” Since their divorce, Mom has limited contact with Dad to the bare minimum. Unless it was about co-parenting, she madeit more than clear that she wanted no relationship with her ex-husband.
Dad wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. “She knows. But we’ll talk about it in a minute. There’s something I wanna know first. You always said that no one could ever beat me in your heart, but it looks like there might be someone after all.” He sets a probing gaze on Ares. “Are you going to introduce me to the young man who was sucking your face and had his hands all over you when I got here?”
Heat rises to my face at the thought that we got caught red-handed by my father. “Hmm, yeah, of course. Dad, this is my boyfriend, Ares Hunter. Ares, this is my dad, John Fields.”
“Hunter, huh?” Dad scans Ares from head to toe. “So you’re dating my daughter but you’re also her stepbrother, if I understand correctly?”
Ares nods. “Yes, sir. I want you to know that I’m crazy about your daughter.”
“So you should be.” Dad offers him his hand to shake. “I don’t mind that you’re keeping things in the family, so to speak. But Zara is a catch, and she’s the number one person in my life. Treat her right, or there’s gonna be hell to pay. Am I being clear?”
“Crystal, sir. All I want is to make Zara happy, like she makes me.”
Dad keeps his gaze on Ares for a moment, weighing his words. “Then we’ll have no problem.” He decides. “Just keep it PG in front of me, if you don’t mind. In my eyes, Zara is still the little hellion in pigtails who asked for her own riding gear for Christmas rather than dolls and who would spend her weekends riding on the back of my bike whenever possible. You’ll understand what I mean when you have your own kids, but no father wants to think of the things you were gonna do with my daughter in that garage if I hadn’t walked in on you.”
