Chapter 6

Coyly, the mechanic asks, “You do this often… pick up guys in service stations?”

“No.” Terrence leans heavily against the side of the car and scoots a little closer. His head is ducked down, about level with Jimmy’s shoulder, and he stares at the pinked nipple pointing at him, begging to be licked. He wants to take that tender bud between his teeth, bite at it, tease it until it swells in his mouth. He wants Jimmy writhing beneath him, aching for him. “What about you? You often accept invitations from guys you meet at work?”

“Is that what this is? An invitation?” Jimmy’s voice drops, seductive. “For what?”

Terrence grins. As if he doesn’t know.

When he doesn’t reply, Jimmy turns back to the car’s engine. Terrence watches his own hand skim across the pale expanse of skin, over Jimmy’s waist, to his back again. Jimmy ignores the touch, leaning beneath the hood of the car to tackle the bolt again.