Chapter 2: Full-Service Craving

Vanessa didn't bother calling ahead.

Her fingers were already tingling before she turned the key in the ignition. She was dressed for "business"—at least, that's what she told herself. Black pencil skirt, a crimson silk blouse that dipped just enough to tempt, and black patent heels that clicked with purpose. Underneath: no bra, and a barely-there lace thong.

She wasn't just returning for a car wash.

She wanted to see how far Malik could go without crossing the line.

She wanted to feel just how much he wanted to cross it.

---

The heat was still heavy in the air, the kind that clung and made skin glisten. She rolled up in her Jaguar, slow and smooth, letting the engine purr one extra second before cutting it.

Malik was already outside. Like he'd felt her coming.

Black tank top again. Cargo pants low on his hips. A thin gold chain around his neck catching the sun—and her attention. He stood next to a detailed BMW, hands on his hips, jawline sharp, arms flexed.

"Didn't expect you back so soon," he said, his voice just as rich, just as deep.

Vanessa slipped her sunglasses off slowly. "Good service is hard to find. Great hands? Even harder."

Malik tilted his head. "You here for another shine? Or something... more specific?"

Vanessa walked toward him, slow, hips swaying in time with her words.

"I was wondering," she murmured, trailing her fingers along the edge of the BMW's hood, "if you offer personal detailing. For… interior work."

Malik licked his bottom lip, then smirked. "That depends. You looking for a deep clean… or just someone to play with your buttons?"

She stepped closer. Inches from him now.

"I like it when someone takes their time. Knows the curves. Uses the right pressure. Makes the leather warm." She let her eyes drop to his chest, then back up. "You strike me as someone who handles interiors… very well."

Malik didn't blink. "I do."

Vanessa's voice dropped to a purr. "Then I'll need full service. Top to bottom."

He nodded, eyes dark and locked on hers. "Garage's open."

---

This time, the garage was empty. Just the two of them. The door rumbled shut behind her, the sound of metal on metal echoing like a warning. The moment the last sliver of daylight vanished, so did the gap between them.

Malik's hand landed on the small of her back. Firm. Intentional. Vanessa arched toward it like instinct, breathing in his scent—clean sweat, citrus, and leather. Her own body hummed with anticipation.

"You always dress like this to get detailed?" he asked, fingers drifting along the dip of her waist.

"Only when I want to get someone's attention."

"You got mine the second you stepped out the car."

Vanessa pressed closer, her body brushing his. "Good. Now what are you going to do with it?"

Malik's hands gripped her hips. Pulled her flush against him. There was no mistaking the hard length pressing into her. Vanessa let out a slow breath.

"I want to know," he murmured against her ear, "how a woman like you tastes when she's ready."

Her fingers found his jaw. "Then earn it."

He grinned, that wicked, patient grin. "With pleasure."

---

Malik opened the driver's door to her car. "Climb in."

She arched a brow. "You planning to buff me out in the car?"

"I want to hear you moan in your own seat. Let the leather memorize it."

Vanessa slid in slowly, deliberately, letting her skirt ride high as she sat. Malik dropped to his knees outside the open door, spreading her legs apart as she settled.

His hands ran up her calves. Firm. Possessive.

"You always this bold?" she asked, breath catching.

He looked up at her. "Only when something's worth polishing until it shines."

Then he leaned in, kissed the inside of her knee, and started his ascent.

Vanessa tilted her head back, eyes fluttering. His mouth was warm—devoted. Slow kisses along her thigh, his stubble dragging lightly against her skin. When he reached the edge of her thong, his hands pushed her knees wider.

"You're already wet," he whispered, voice raw.

"Then clean me up," she said, voice shaking.

---

His tongue was skilled. Deliberate. Not rushed. He licked slowly along her slit, tasting her like she was something rare—and he was savoring every drop. Vanessa gasped, hips rising slightly, back arching into the seat. One of her hands gripped the door, the other slid into his cropped hair.

"Oh my god, Malik…"

He groaned into her, tongue circling her clit in slow, relentless swirls. Her thighs trembled.

He pulled back just an inch. "You want more?"

She nodded, breathless.

Malik stood without warning, opened the passenger door, and slid in beside her. One of his large hands took her wrist and guided it to his belt.

"Show me how you detail," he growled.

Vanessa undid his pants slowly, breath shallow. When she freed him, she exhaled sharply.

"Goddamn," she whispered. "You are full-service."

He was thick, hard, and leaking at the tip. She wrapped her hand around him, slowly pumping.

"You like watching a woman take care of your equipment?" she teased, twisting her wrist just enough to make him groan.

"I like when she takes pride in her work."

She leaned over the console, slipping her lips around his head, slowly sinking down, tongue teasing the underside. Malik hissed through his teeth, one hand gripping the headrest.

"Shit, Vanessa…"

She bobbed slowly, letting her tongue swirl. Her free hand stroked what her mouth didn't take, building rhythm. Malik's hips flexed, but he let her lead—until she moaned around him.

That sound. That damn sound.

His hand slid into her hair, gripping—not forcing, just anchoring. She looked up through her lashes, eyes gleaming, then pulled off with a pop.

"You close?"

He nodded, jaw clenched.

"Good." She climbed onto his lap.

---

Straddling him now, skirt hiked to her waist, thong soaked and pressed against his cock. She rocked against him, sliding her heat along his shaft, not letting him inside—but close enough he could feel everything.

Their foreheads pressed together.

"You feel that?" she whispered. "That's years of experience riding you without letting you win."

He groaned. "You're gonna make me lose it right here."

She rolled her hips harder, his cock sliding against her slick folds, trapped between them.

"That's the idea," she whispered, nibbling his ear.

Her nails dug into his shoulders as she kept grinding, breath erratic.

Then—

His hands clamped her hips. One, two thrusts upward, dry humping like he needed to break her.

"Vanessa…"

She buried her face in his neck, body shaking. Not from release—but from how close she was.

They both trembled, locked in the moment.

And then Malik gasped.

Throbbed.

Released.

All over his abs, between them, thick and hot. He clenched his jaw, groaning low, and she didn't stop rocking until he gripped her waist to still her.

For a moment, all they could hear was their breath. Heavy. Wild. Real.

---

She climbed off slowly, thighs slick, hair tousled, lips swollen.

Malik reached for a cloth and cleaned himself off with a crooked smile.

"You are dangerous," he said.

Vanessa straightened her skirt. "You just found that out?"

"You're not done with me," he said, voice steady now.

"No," she said, smoothing her blouse. "I'm just getting started."

She walked to the door, heels clicking, hips swaying.

Just before stepping out into the sunlight again, she looked over her shoulder.

"Next time," she said, "I want the full detail."

Malik leaned against the car, arms folded. "You'll get it. But next time—somewhere private."

Her brow lifted. "Hotel?"

He nodded once. "Already have the suite in mind."

Vanessa smirked. "Good. I want soft sheets. And hard consequences."