Free Charged by Kerri Ann

looking mechanics, or what? 
    “Hi love. What can I get you?” he asks in a southern drawl. He’s about my height, with wide football shoulders, black tribal tattoos snaking up under the tee shirt shoulder cuffs of his t-shirt. He has black spacers in each ear that are at least an inch wide. His shaved head and crisp green apple eyes make him stunning. 
    I clear my throat trying to find my voice, a little caught off guard by his beauty. “Actually, I’m here to get you something. Hazel sent me over to see to lunch orders.” 
    Stepping closer to me, getting right into my personal space, he drags a finger along my jaw and grins wide. “Well, in that case, gorgeous, I’ll take a nasty sandwich with a Coke. Unless you’re on the menu?” 
    “Sorry darlin’, my restaurant is closed at the moment, but I’ll make sure you get your nasty.” I smile back and step away from him. His touch, while gentle, is unnerving and actually kind of creepy. He doesn’t affect me at all like Ryker does. His touch doesn’t cause any shivers or heating in my jeans, which is funny when you think of how dangerously sexual Ryker is, where this guy is model pretty and more my type.  
    I can’t say I don’t want to see Ryker. That would be a blatant denial of the feelings he pulls from me. If a single touch of his lips can make me feel that alive, I’m afraid of what it would feel like with his hands on my hips, my breasts, or any part of my body for that matter. Even after he had Kendra’s ass pressed into my hood, I still can’t stop daydreaming about taking him on any surface possible. This guy though; he elicits a different reaction — fear. 
    He laughs loudly, breaking through my thoughts. “Well in that case…” He turns from me, reaches over to the wall and turns down the stereo control, yelling out, “Boys! Food order’s up!”  
    Seconds later, men are crawling out from under cars, and out of attached rooms in all different directions. It’s like there’s a siren for chow hour going off. How did this space hide so many men, and all good looking to boot? There should be a calendar from this place. I’d call it Men of the Metal.  
    Taking their orders, I receive a few cat calls, a ‘hey darlin’’, ‘hi ya gorgeous’ and your typical ‘sup’ as they all gather around me. I’m guessing Hazel doesn’t get this response. I suppose there isn’t exactly a steady stream of young women walking into their domain on a daily basis. I laugh along with them as they each try their best to hit on me in one way or another. And then Ryker comes around the corner. Suddenly, it’s as if they’re all afraid of him as they quickly recite their order then clear off. 
    “Hey,” Ryker says gruffly as the last one leaves. 
    “Hey,” I say back, equally sharp.“How’s it going on my car?”
    His hair is loose today. I notice once more how his black tee shirt lays perfectly on his sculpted chest, and how his low slung jeans hang loosely, in just the right spot to show off where his hard cut abs dip to his hips. There really isn’t one bad male specimen in this whole place, but none compare to him. 
    “It’s not a car. I told you that before. What a fuckin’ piece of shit. How you could let it get to that point is beyond all reasoning.” 
    Today, I won’t let him get to me, I tell myself as I take a deep breath and look him right in the eye. I realize my mistake right away when his piercing blue eyes seem to look right through me once again. I take a moment to gather my wits and whatever strength I can muster to stand off against Ryker, and his not so boyish charm. 
    “Well, not everyone has the money to work on their cars, or has a lovely shop like this at their disposal,” I say swinging my arms dramatically, indicating the wide space. “I did due with what I had. If my car paid the consequences, but I got to eat, then I saw that as one in the win column for me.” 
    “Yeah well, until yesterday anyway.