She was wearing dark denim jeans and a long-sleeved, black and red, Rolling Stones tee shirt. He was covered in grease, wearing his work overalls rolled down to the waist and a white wife beater splattered with oil and lube from the overhauls he'd worked on with Sean. The garage was quiet with the exception of their breathing, neither spoke because words really weren't necessary and conversation wasn't what either was looking for.
He tossed the wrench he'd been using at the tool box sitting on the floor by his feet but missed. His eyes were still traveling the length of her petite curves, his tongue tracing the line of his lips as they twisted up into his patented smirk. Her cheeks flushed, hiding her freckles behind a ruby color that was only a few shades lighter than the curls he couldn't wait to get his hands on.
Her emerald eyes flashed lust that only made his dick press more firmly against the crotch of his pants. She moved a step closer, giving him the signal he'd been waiting for. He reached out, encircling her tiny wrists with his hands, and pulling her even closer. She didn't fight him, didn't resist as his tongue forced its way between her slightly parted lips.
He pinned her against the Escort he'd been working on, biting her lower lip as he moved over to her cheek then down to her neck. His hands slid down her arms, tracing the outside curve of her breasts before moving on to her waist. She sucked in a deep breath as he inched up her shirt revealing a flat stomach so pale it was almost transparent.
His knees bent and he drifted south, tracing kisses along the center of her stomach. He made the circle around her belly button, connecting the freckles and making sure he didn't miss a single one. Goosebumps began to form on her skin and he enjoyed the fact that he could cause her that kind of reaction. He began making his way back up slowly, his hands leading the way as they inched her shirt up further and further.
She gasped as his tongue drifted over her bra and in between the small mounds that nestled inside it. He quickly pulled her shirt the rest of the way off before she could protest, not that she would, and placed a soft kiss at the hallow of her neck.
Her hands fumbled for the hem of his shirt, trying desperately to pull it from the coveralls. As cute as it was to see her flustered, he was far too gone to waste time on the little things. He pulled it off himself and tossed it to the ground, oblivious to the puddle of oil it landed in. He hoisted her up against the passenger's side window, her legs wrapping around his waist for support.
He kissed and nipped at the slop of her breast, running his tongue along the line of black lace. His hands slid around her and over the clasp that held the bra in place. He quickly unhooked it letting the straps slide down her arms before he pulled it away. They were perfectly round with the exception that one was slightly bigger than the other, equally as speckled as the rest of her body.
She bit her lip as he took one of her nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the taunt little bud. He bit it gently, pulling lightly with his teeth causing her to cry out in pleasure. Her fingers dug into his shoulder blades, the chewed up nails too short to break the skin. He moved over to the other nipple teasing it with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth like it's predecessor. She arched her back, a silent begging for more, her head resting on the roof of the Escort.
He pulled her up and carried her across the garage to the break room and the worn out couch Tony kept there for his late night book balancing. He insisted on doing it himself, less likely to get ripped off that way. It was the nights when Ellie showed up that Jay was grateful Tony was a cheapskate because the couch was definitely a step up from the backseat of a stranger's car.
He laid her down then stepped back, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his coveralls. He took a second to stare at her, half naked on the torn, yellow sofa. He slid his hand across her knee and up her inner thigh, leaning over and capturing her bruised lips. He ran his thumb across the dampening denim between her legs as her hands traveled over the hard muscle of his back.
He smoothed her curls back from her face, blue locked on green. "Say it," he demanded.
She shook her head, tilting her chin up for another kiss but he pulled back. He stalled his thumb arching his brow challengingly. "I want to hear you say it." He added.
She hesitated, pursing her lips in a slight pout, her hips pressing frantically against his finger. She wanted it just as bad as he wanted it, she always did. She growled in defeat the words coming out so breathlessly he wasn't completely sure she'd said them, "Fuck me." He knew it was all he was going to get out of her, so he let it slide.
A second later he was pulling her jeans and panties down over her milky white hips, red curls springing loose. It was his favorite part of undressing her. His groin pressed hard against his own jeans begging to be set free, begging for release. Ellie moved so he was between her legs, her small finger's gracing the silver button, unfastening it and lowering the zipper in one quick motion.
He lifted his hips, sliding his own pants off and adding them to hers in the pile on the floor. He anchored himself over her, the tip of his erection lying against her slick opening. Her emerald eyes were blazing fire, he could feel her hips twitching under him, feel the heat cascading off her body. One thrust and she was surrounding him, tight, wet, hot. He wanted to explode from the sensation but he fought it off, the same way he could tell she was fighting it off.
Her body shook slightly beneath him, the inner walls of her womb milking his hard on with each stride. His hands splayed around her waist, his mouth ravishing her left breast. She threaded her fingers through his hair, snagging and pulling, urging him on.
A tiny gasp escaped her throat as she came, her whole body shaking more violently from the orgasm. She rocked her hips more frantically as she tried to catch her breath wanting him to cum, needing him to cum. And he did, several seconds later.
She pushed him off of her as soon as they were done. Grabbing her jeans and pulling them on as quickly as she could. He lay sprawled out on the couch, watching the aftermath of their secret sin. It was always the same, reality would set in and she'd realize the mistake she'd made. He smirked in the way he knew would piss her off as she glanced over her shoulder looking for her missing shirt. In the after-sex haze she'd forgotten it was in the other room.
She grabbed his jeans off the floor tossing them at his deflating dick, her cheeks rosy from overexertion and embarrassment. He sat up pulling them on as she continued the search for her missing garments. Standing up, Jay slid his pants up over his hips pulling the zipper up but leaving them unbuttoned. He padded barefoot into the other room picking up her shirt and bra from where they'd landed in the heat of passion. Lucky for her, her clothes had managed to avoid the grease stains and oil puddles. She jerked them out of his hands, pulling her shirt over her head and down to cover her exposed unmentionables. The bra could wait until later.
She slipped into the boots that she'd kicked off somewhere between the Escort and the break room then with a final fleeting look at Jay she made her way out of the garage. But he knew she'd be back, she always came back.