The speed at which Vincent moves takes my breath away. Before I can blink, his rough hands are around my waist, and then I’m on his shoulder as he’s carrying me toward the back of the garage. I feel his taut back muscles against my stomach, and his manly scent has my head already spinning.
I hear him kick a door open and find myself in what looks like a break room. He slams the door shut behind us, then throws me down on an old dirty couch that smells of must and wear.
“Oh, f**k,” I gasp, my mouth hanging open as he slides out of his shirt, revealing his pristine body to me. I trace the lines of his abs with my eyes and feel myself get even wetter than I already was as he pops the top button of his pants. I kick off my heels and get to work on my pants.
I need him. Now.
He helps me out
