Yours - COMPLETE

Chapter eighteen✔️

Andy Anders

The drive to Nick's shop took a little under thirty minutes because I was speeding like my ass was on fire. Many people on the road either cussed me out or flipped me off. I either winked at them or I might or might not have flashed a man who was glaring at me when I cut him off. Needles to say, he wasn't mad after that.

Getting out of my car, I saunter over to the shop and walked in with the ding of the bell above the door. It's nearly seven so the sun is already setting. There's no one here expect me. What if Bella was right? What if Nick actually has a big present for me? And by big, I mean his dick. Good thing I shaved.

"Hello?" I call out when I don't see him. "Nick?"

I walk further into the shop and notice that his mustang isn't in the back. What? He never takes his car out of the shop unless there's a race. I still don't see why he even does it. He doesn't even race the damn thing. Poor baby. So neglected. I finger the shiny metal of the other mustang in the shop and internally moan at the beauty. This car is something else. It's old fashioned but the new adjustments to it makes the car damn near panty dropping.

"Nick!" I yell out again because I still don't see him anywhere.

I take off my jacket and place it on a chair and head to the fridge to steal a corona. My mother refused for me to go to rehab, saying that I need to work out my shit on my own. But I know the real reason why she didn't send me to a facility. It's because she's afraid of word getting out about my mishap and could potentially ruin her image. I couldn't care less. I'm glad she didn't send me to rehab. I got my shit on lock. Kinda. It's a hard addiction to get rid of. I started experimenting with drugs to get back at my parents, but then I became addicted and everything went south from there. I'm not even surprised that Dominic never visited me while I was at the hospital. Fuck him. I'm done with that shit for good. I won't lay a single finger on drugs again. Except for cigarettes but that doesn't really count. So alcohol is my new best friend.

Popping the cap with my hand, I take a big gulp and sigh at the nasty taste going down my throat. I start walking around the place and touch random things. The shop isn't very big but there's a lot of things in it. It's quite homey and I almost feel safe in here. The smell of oil and gas in the air makes my toes curl. I close my eyes and take in a big inhale and smile before exhaling and opening up my eyes again. I yelp when I see Nick leaning against the door frame of the back door. How the fuck did I not hear him?

"How long have you been standing there?"

He shrugs and starts walking over to me. Nick may be nearing his forties but he's still one of the hottest men I have ever seen. He doesn't even look thirty seven. His face barely has any wrinkles besides the smile lines near his eyes and the light gray hairs in his beard. It shouldn't be hot but goddammit it is. He's wearing a tight white shirt that makes his biceps and pecks bulge against the fabric and the dark washed jeans don't do anything to hide his muscular thighs. I find myself looking at his crotch and remembering just how big he was and how full he made me feel. I mindlessly lick my now dry lips and shift my eyes back to his face to see him doing that same thing I was just doing to him. I'm wearing a red spaghetti strapped crop top—that don't do much to the imagination—with black skinny jeans that make my ass look good as fuck. My hair is down in waves and I'm not wearing any makeup besides the red tint on my lips from the lipstick I was wearing all day. Needles to say, I look hot.

I clear my throat when he doesn't answer my question and his eyes go back to my face. And fuck...those damn eyes are now a darker shade of blue. Just by him looking at me causes my heat to pulse and I already know by now that my panties are completely soaked.