Chapter 41

Jamie

Walking into work on Monday was a different experience. The last time I'd done so was when I thought this was all fake. I'd still felt a thrill at the possibility of pretending to be Brock's girlfriend, but now? I walked into a quiet workshop early to find a coffee cup sitting on the bonnet of the car I was working on, steam rising from it in lazy curls. I reached for it, almost able to taste it, when another set of handsgrabbed me. Every muscle stiffened until I heard a deep voice say, "Morning."

I spun around and saw Brock standing there, just as big, tall, and hot as before. No, worse. He was smiling now, a warm look in his eyes that threatened to heat me up way faster than the coffee.

"Got you your favourite," he said, nodding to the drink.

"Thanks." God, this was so bloody awkward. "I'll get you a coffee tomorrow."

"No, you won't."

"You don't like coffee?" I peered at him, wondering how that could be true of anyone, but then remembering he drank cups of the shitty instant shit. "Like real coffee. It'll blow your mind."

"Don't need coffee for that." His low rumble gave me all the warning I needed as he leaned in closer, blocking out the rest of the empty garage. "Give me a kiss every morning and I'll have one waiting for you. No need to wait in line to order one."

"Yeah?" Why was my voice so husky? Oh, because my super hot boss was making moves on me. I smiled then and went up on my tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek. "There you go. You know the way I like it."

"I do."

His arms went around me, tugging me close so my hands landed on that broad chest, but that didn't stop him. He bent his head down slowly, my mouth going dry in anticipation. I think part of me had tried to persuade myself that the chemistry wasn't real, that my whole body didn't come alight when Brock kissed me, but it did. He started this, but I kissed him right back, chasing that feeling until we heard a jaunty whistle coming from outside the garage. Clinton walked in, saw the two of us spring apart, and then grinned.

"One word and you'll be shovelling shit out of the grease trap all day," Brock barked.

"Got it. Got it." Clinton managed to keep a straight face until Brock turned back to me. I was treated to the sight of him crudely mimicking kissing himself behind his boss, right before Brock drew my attention back to him.

"Just like that," he told me in a low voice. "Every morning and the coffee is yours."

I could get my coffee just fine, but damn, who was going to knock that offer back? So I just smiled and nodded, watching him walk away.

"Naughty, naughty—" Clinton started to say.

"Grease trap."

Those two words were magic, it appeared, because he turned and walked away, ready to start his day.

Being back on the tools was a relief. I knew this, knew what to do. Even when there was a persistent clunking sound in the engine and it turned out to be none of the usual things, a quick chat with Gary helped me find the solution. Engine knock was usually caused by issues with the fuel/air mixture in older cars, but newer ones were so finely calibrated it was rarely an issue. Occasionally, the sensor that was supposed to keep that from happening was faulty and so it needed to be replaced. When I rang the owner and ran the costs by them, then got the go-ahead, I felt confident, competent. Of course, that meant I had to go upstairs to see if Brock could add it to the current parts order.

"Ooh, sneaking up to see your boyfriend," Clinton said.

"Grease trap."

"What the hell is this grease trap thing?" Ken asked. "It shuts this dickhead up better than anything else."

"Pretty sure Brock has threatened Clinton with cleaning up the grease trap if he doesn't leave Jamie alone," Gary told him.

"Oh really…"

"Look, fellas, I was just kidding. Jamie, tell him I was kidding. Jamie?" Clinton spluttered.

I just smiled and kept on walking, right into Brock's office.

If we were following good workplace safety protocols, this wouldn't be a sexually charged situation, but… It'd been that way for some time for me. An intimate space, so completely Brock's, his photos on the wall, the woody scent of his deodorant filling the air. Oh yeah, and him. Those broad shoulders hunched as he worked on the computer, the guy was still a two-finger typist, but he was quick about it. Part of me wanted to slink on over, run a hand across his back, and then sink my fingers into his hair, watching his eyes turn to molten gold when he looked up.

I realised I could do just that.

The soft pelt of his flannel shirt caressed my fingertips, and I felt his muscles tense and then twist as he did just that. His hungry look, though? It far outstripped anything I'd imagined.

"We need?—"

Whatever I was about to say was cut off by him grabbing me by the waist and tugging me down onto his desk faster than I could blink.

"Tell me exactly what you need."

"A knock sensor for the Toyota I'm working on," I squeaked out.

"Oh." He blinked. "So you came up here because of work."

"I did." I ran a finger down his chest. "I'm having difficulty remembering that right now."

"Yeah?" His lips curved as I started to toy with the top button of his shirt. "Well, maybe we need to work on jogging your memory."

Touching Brock always felt illicit, but here? It added something to it. I could hear the clank of the guys working in the garage, knew I had my own jobs to do, but as I flicked one button open, all that fell away. I slid my hand across his skin, listening to his breath picking up. His entire focus was trained on me, on what I was doing, which was all part of the problem.

"How quickly can you get out of those overalls?" he asked in a low growl.

"What?"

His hand moved forward, cupping my mound.

"You gave me a taste of heaven and I want more, Jamie."

That's when I remembered his fantasy, me spread across his desk, screaming in ecstasy as I rode his face, but back then it was safely inside my head and his.

"You don't mean—?" I started to say.

"Yeah, I do." He undid one clasp of my overalls, following the way the bib started to sag, his hands claiming surrendered ground.

"But the guys?—"

"You'll just need to be real fucking quiet," he said. "You can do that for me, can't you, Jamie?"

No, I couldn't. There were no curtains on the office windows, so anyone who walked up the steps would see exactly what we were doing. That didn't happen often, but I felt a spike of old held fear of being discovered by the guys I worked with. I could almost imagine their judgement, their disapproval, but then Brock leaned in and kissed my neck. More recent memories pushed forward, of pleasure, of the way he'd made me feel. The sharp prickle of his beard in contrast with the soft flicker of his tongue had me shifting against him. Then as I leaned down to kiss him right back, the ring of his phone had us pulling apart.

"Shit…"

He glanced at the screen, then tilted it away from me when I took a look.

"What?" I asked, having been here before. Never being allowed to touch my exes' phones. Messages being typed out to some other girl the entire time we were together. Then finally phone calls he had to step outside to take, his voice so much softer when he talked to her… I grabbed his hand and forced him to show me the screen, only to see another woman's name there.

Majorie.

"Mum?" I asked, my blood instantly cooling.

"She's been ringing a bit," he admitted ruefully.

"Block her." My advice was delivered in a sharp tone. "Feel free. She's not your mother, so you don't have to put up with her shit."

"And then she'll just call you."

I went perfectly still, the ring of the phone competing with the whine in my head, because this was the moment I realised what he was doing. What Hayden was doing and what Hunter would, if he got his chance. What Millie was doing by instructing her brothers to date me in the first place.

He was protecting me.

Part of me flinched away from that, my mind jumping and bucking like a horse being broken to saddle. It wanted to protest that I didn't need him to do this. That I could cope just fine without anyone's help, but… I'd dragged Millie into all of this, and where she came, so did the rest of the McDonalds, because they were a real family. That had me swallowing hard. A lump filled my throat, my eyes burning, right as the phone stopped ringing.

"Crisis averted," I croaked out, forcing myself to smile, but of course it was never going to be that easy. Mum never gave in, and so the phone started up again. My cheeks burned bright red as second-hand shame rushed through me, even as I reassured myself that I was not responsible for my mother's behaviour.

"I better get this," he said, almost apologetically.

I simply nodded, doing up my overalls clasp as he tapped on the screen.

"Majorie. Good to hear from you. No, I was just talking to one of my staff… Nothing serious, no. Jamie? She's working on a tricky job." I jumped when his hand landed on my thigh, rubbing it reassuringly. "Tuesday?" He looked up at me, an eyebrow cocking in question. "You need her for an hour or two?" I shook my head, waving my hands in the air to make clear what I thought about this idea. "Look, I'm sorry, but we're completely flat out right now."

For someone so preoccupied with being polite and well mannered, my mother always seemed to get away with being a pushy bitch. I watched him sink back into his chair, and it was somehow reassuring to see someone else collapsing under the weight of Mum's demands. I could hear her voice down the line, her words growing faster and faster as she tried to bury him with bullshit. Put the pressure on and don't let up for a second, that was her play book.

Well, two could play that game.

I thought of my own fantasies, the ones that'd played out in this office, and that's when I moved. His chair was pushed back as my boot slotted between his thighs, his whole body stiffening in anticipation of me crushing his balls with my steel caps or something.

Instead, I had something so much nicer planned.

Brock's look of confusion as I dropped to my knees was perfect. I shimmied under his desk, then dragged his wheeled chair closer.

"Right… right…" he said.

My fingers slid across his jeans, feeling the soft, well-worn denim covering something so much harder. I started to ease his zip down and he was forced to shift in the chair, the bearings creaking as he did so. His jeans parted only for me to find this underneath.

He'd gone commando so his thick, hard cock popped free, already leaking pre-cum from the head.

"Uh huh…"

His response came out as a sigh as I shifted forward, licking a stripe up his length. When I pulled away, catching the tiny string of saliva stretching between us, his hand went to my head. Just as I'd dreamed, he guided me back where I was. The phone was tucked between his ear and his shoulder as the other hand ringed the root of his cock, right before he fed it past my lips.

"I understand that." His voice was a low growl, his eyes boring into mine as I slowly parted my lips and licked them to get them slick before lowering my head. "I get it. I totally get it. Yess…" That came out as a low hiss as I swallowed him as deeply as I could. "Sorry? Oh yeah, someone just walked in the door. There's a client I need to see. Look, Majorie."

I froze, staring into his eyes, mentally communicating what I needed him to say, right as I pressed my tongue hard against the underside of his cock.

"Jamie has a full-time job to do, she's sought after as a mechanic, and that means she has next to no spare time during work hours. Yes, I understand that. Yes, I can see how that would be important to your family. Look, I get it. Family's important to me too…" My mouth worked, bobbing harder, faster down his length. "But your daughter is a grown woman, and if she's telling me that she can't spare an hour to attend a dress fitting, then I need to believe her."

At the sound of his frustrated hiss, I paused, just sucking on the head. Salty pre-cum flooded my mouth as Brock shook his head.

"No, I can't tell her what to do. No, I'm not going to make her do this, and while I'd like us to have a positive relationship, if you're looking for an ally who'll help you coerce your daughter, I'm not your guy." My cheeks hollowed as I sucked harder, his hips arching up from the chair. "Because I respect her." His eyes locked with mine, a small frown forming as I began to move again. "Because I…" My tongue moved of its own accord, tracing the shape of the head, delving into the channel that ran across the crown. "Anyone that cares about Jamie needs to listen when she's telling them she can't do something."

He ended the call then tossed the phone down on his desk before staring at me. "Jesus fucking Christ, Jamie, are you trying to suck my soul out through my dick, because…"

Whatever else he had to say, it was discarded as I really started to move. Suction, a flickering tongue, I tried to trace the entirety of his length with it. My hand slid up his thigh, then delved into his pants, cupping his balls, and his grip tightened.

"You don't need to do this," he gasped. "You don't need…" Brock was moving now in time with each stroke, his whole body straining. "Fuck, baby, I'm close."

That's what I wanted to hear. What I didn't was the sound of footsteps up the stairs.

I needed to stop. I needed to pull away and hide, because I didn't want any of the guys to see me right now. They might joke about me getting it on with the boss, but catching me midway through blowing him was a whole other thing.

"Brock…?" I knew that voice and it didn't belong to Gary or Ken. Hunter and Hayden's were very similar, though there were small differences if you knew them well. Hunter's was slightly deeper and he spoke a little faster, like he did now. "Hey, have you seen Jamie?"

Brock tried to formulate a response, but instead just let out a strangled groan, right in time for the door to slam open. Hunter filled the doorway, his eyes zeroing in on the desk. He took in the scene before him, then shut and locked the door behind him, pulling the blind down.

I went to pull away, not knowing how this would go. Back when I thought it was all fake, this wouldn't have been an issue, but the guys had to bring feelings into things. Brock sensed this and tightened his grip, keeping me right where I was as Hunter approached, a slow smile forming.

"Well, well, well… what do we have here?"