Turn Up the Heat (14 page)

Bellamy gasped, low in her throat, as Shane answered by cradling his hands around her low back to guard against the rough wood of the workbench behind her, brushing his hips against her belly. He nudged her knees apart with his own, leaving no guesswork to his intentions, and she pushed forward to meet his body heat with her own.

Her hands skimmed the lean muscles of his chest, feeling the tight pull beneath his thermal shirt as his palms rounded the curve of her hips to fist the edge of her sweater. With the muted, gray light from outside creating shadows and nuances on the chiseled lines of his face, the look he met her with sent an unparalleled ache between her thighs.

“You're killing me, you know,” he groaned, slipping a hand over her skin. Lifting slowly, he brushed the backs of his fingers against her lacy bra, and the mere hint of sensation over her nipples sent a shock wave clear through to her spine.

Oh,
God,
was the feeling mutual. She arched into his hand, kissing him hard enough to make her lips sing as her tongue swept against his.

“Do you have any idea how badly I want you?” Shane's hands were at exquisite odds with her body as his fingers dove beneath the lace and lingered.

“Yes.
Yes
.” Bellamy was powerless to stop the keening sigh from spilling over her lips when his words made it past the thick heat of her body and into her brain.

“Shane . . .” Her heart skittered in her chest as she realized all at once exactly where they were headed and exactly why they couldn't go there.

“Bellamy,” he replied with a smile so heady that she almost forgot her name, let alone what she was going to say.

She shifted her hands on either side of his face, drawing his shuttered gaze upward so she could meet it. “I, um. I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that Jenna didn't throw any condoms in her safety kit.” If it had been happening to
anyone
else, the irony would've been fucking priceless.

A flicker passed over his dark eyes, but then Shane's grin turned even more mischievous. “That's okay. We'll just have to be a little imaginative.” His tongue darted and danced around hers in an intoxicating rhythm, proving that his creative side was raring to go.

Gotta love a man who could think outside the box.

Without warning, Shane scooped her toward him, gripping her hips with strong hands and lifting her up to settle her on the workbench.

“Oh!” Bellamy kicked her hips up with a giggle as she rolled her weight off of whatever was caught beneath her left leg. She lifted her knee to retrieve what turned out to be Shane's wallet.

“You should be more careful with this,” she teased, handing it over.

Shane drew her hips to the edge of the bench and ran his tongue along her collarbone before he answered. “It's Jackson's.” He tossed the wallet to the side with a
thunk,
and it popped open to reveal twenty bucks and two telltale foil packets peeking out from the top.

Yes, Virginia, there really
is
a Santa Claus.

Bellamy gave a catlike smile. “So does your offer still apply now? Or am I just out of luck with your imagination?”

Shane looked up from where he stood, hands still wrapped around her hips. “Well, that depends. You sure you want to do this?” He ran his fingers around the top edge of her jeans. Bellamy had a sassy retort preloaded and ready to roll off her tongue, but then she caught the seriousness on Shane's face. It wasn't seductive banter or sexy flirting. He was really asking.

She didn't even blink. “Yes.”

In a motion so swift it made her breath freeze, Shane had his arms around her hips to lift her off the workbench, fitting her into his body and holding her fast. She curled her legs around him, which sent a groan from his chest, but he didn't stop moving until they were next to the car.

Putting her down in one gentle motion, Shane popped the door open and slid the front seat forward without pause to reveal the bench seat behind it. He jerked his head toward the backseat, mouth caught up in a full-on smirk. “You comin'?”

Oh,
hell
yes.

As soon as she settled into the narrow space of the backseat to face Shane, he was on her like wildfire, hands lifting her sweater over her head while hers returned the favor. She clutched the edge of his shirt when his kisses followed the trail of his hands, nails digging into her palms through the thick cotton as his chest brushed against hers.

“Oh.” The single syllable came out like the moan it was meant to be, and Bellamy's nipples tightened and peaked through the white lace. She leaned back against the small side window of the backseat, and Shane hooked a thumb beneath the strap on her shoulder, following it around to her back to spring the hook with a nimble twist. Heat shot straight through her and settled between her hips, merciless as his touch became soft and teasing.

“So beautiful.” The curve of her spine deepened at Shane's words, his honeyed voice driving her in a way that felt both forbidden and brand-new. He slid over her, and the friction against her jeans was almost unbearable. She arched up, fumbling to both lie down and meet his body at the same time.

“I don't think your backseat was designed for this,” Bellamy murmured, trying to shift under Shane's hips, but it didn't deter his ministrations.

“I respectfully disagree.” The cool whisper of his breath tightened her nipples even further, and she braced a hand on the front seat to fit herself under his hips. Her composure disappeared like it had never existed as he cupped her breasts with both palms, and when he dipped his mouth reverently from one to the other, Bellamy was certain that she would die from the intensity shooting through her blood.

Out of instinct and pure need, she lifted her hips in search of his touch. The urgency coursing through her was like nothing she'd ever felt, and it wasn't happy about deferring to the restrictions of the car's backseat. Shane lifted his chin to look up at her, his expression hungry and purely male. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he returned to her mouth, his kiss surprisingly tender.

With boldness that knocked the breath from her, Bellamy pushed against him until he was upright in the middle of the seat. Opening her knees, she settled on his arousal, holding him fast to the backrest.

“Can't say I was . . . expecting that,” he ground out against her shoulder, and she pulled away to rest her back on the front seat, which only thrust her sex against his harder.

“You said to get creative. I'm just following your lead.”

Shane's eyes glittered with want as they dropped to watch the space where her jeans met his. “By all means,” he groaned, sliding his hips under hers in a perfect fit. “Lead on.”

Instead of making her blush, the words emboldened Bellamy, and she shifted back to slip a hand into the tight space between his lap and her own.

“Like this?” She stroked his cock over his button fly, following with a push of her hips to trap her hand between them as she continued with another undaunted caress.

“Oh, yeah.” The words rode out of Shane on a hiss, and he arced into her hand, hard. She repeated the motion, finding a rhythm as she rocked into him against her own hand. His bare chest was lean and hard on her soft skin, and the contact sent even more sweet pressure to the juncture between her thighs. He released his grip on her hip with one hand, fitting it next to hers to curl his fingers over the seam of her jeans.

“
Shane
.” The pressure building in her sex was no match for the feel of him, his fingers hard and steady over the soft yield of her body, and she thrust against him again and again, unable to stop.

“You are so beautiful like this,” he whispered into her ear, pressing into her, sweet and merciless. The combination of the words and the movement between them sent her pitching over the edge, the delicious release of her orgasm rocking through her on a cry. As the wave subsided, her eyes fluttered open to reveal his unwavering gaze on her.

Shane watched with sultry eyes as she freed the top button of his jeans, then the next, sliding back from his body to work her way down. His hungry stare kindled a fresh wave of heat that worked its way through her from the inside out.

Unhooking her leg from over his hips, Bellamy moved next to him in an effort to shuck her jeans and boots as quickly as possible in the tight space, noticing only briefly that he did the same. When she was bare except for her panties, the realization hit her that she was about to have sex with a guy she'd known for all of four days in the backseat of a car while stranded in a snowstorm.

She'd never felt so right about anything in her life.

Bellamy swung back over Shane's hips, nothing between them but a thin layer of satin, and a groan escaped from both of them simultaneously when the fabric brushed his erection.

“You're sure,” he whispered, capturing her face in his hands. All of the dark, sexy edge was gone from Shane's voice as his eyes met hers in the shadows of the car. She nodded, sending her curls over her shoulders and her heartbeat into a frenzy.

“Positive.”

In a flash, her panties were gone. Shane made quick work of putting on a condom, and Bellamy's breath scattered through her like the howling wind outside. She settled herself against him, flattening her palms on his chest, and he brushed his lips over hers in a slow kiss.

She parted his lips with her own, seeking his heat as the kiss grew deeper. With her hips poised over his, she lowered herself into his lap, his length slowly filling her.

“Bellamy.” He bit out her name like a cross between a prayer and a curse as she drew up slightly, only to lower back down with a tremble. Shane's hands found her hips, fingers hot on her skin, and he guided her into a rhythm that made her want to scream. The tension that had broken over her moments before was back tenfold, cresting and demanding all at once as he held her hips to his own. Shane thrust into the heat of her folds, over and over, and all of her muscles squeezed tight before breaking free.

“Oh,
God.
” Bellamy dug her fingers into the taut muscles of his shoulders as she came again, even harder than the first time. Shane didn't slow the relentless rhythm on her hips, holding steady as she shuddered on top of him, arching up into her until the grip of his hands tightened with a groan. Fueled by the sound of his voice, Bellamy pressed into him until there was no space left between their bodies, entranced by the sound of her name on his lips as he came.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, her curls a soft curtain between their bodies, and Shane reached up to brush a hand through them. For a moment, Bellamy hung in the balance of time, swinging with the uncertainty that welled up in her chest.

But then Shane slid two fingers under her chin, lifting her face to kiss her softly again, and the worry disappeared like smoke.

Shane watched a stream of fresh coffee burble into the pot on the workbench. The dark liquid inched up the sides of the carafe and sent out a warm, earthy aroma that did its best to cancel out the snow piling up outside. A glance through the window told him that the wind had only become stronger, forcing the snow into sharp drifts against the north side of the garage. Although the image registered, it didn't linger for more than a second or two.

Shane stood there, eyes wide open, without seeing a thing. He'd just had the most mind-altering sex of his entire twenty-nine years with a woman he barely knew but was so attracted to that it felt sinful just to be near her, and they were stranded together until Mother Nature was good and ready to let them go.

Very bad idea
wouldn't touch this with a ten-foot pole.

“Hey.” Bellamy stood in the door frame to the office, the sleeves of her sweater pulled low over her hands and a glow on her face that could light up half the Eastern Seaboard. The creamy skin on her cheeks was tinged with a sexy flush of color, although Shane couldn't tell if it was the fantastic sex or the two days' worth of stubble on his face that put it there.

“Hey. I made some fresh coffee.” Shane scrubbed a hand down his chin and furtively watched her make her way over to the workbench. He'd done his fair share of sleeping with women, but this was in another league entirely. One minute, they'd been standing there like normal people. The next, he'd been so consumed by lust that he'd seduced her in the backseat of his car. Granted, she'd seduced him right back, but still. He was pretty sure there was no standard protocol for what was supposed to happen after a thing like that.

“It smells good.” The cadence of Bellamy's voice so close to him made him want to start from square one, just so he could have her all over again. Shit, he needed to get it together.

“Are you hungry? I mean, you probably are.” He turned to crouch down and open the mini-fridge, but she stepped into his line of sight, catching his forearm with a gentle hand. Man, she looked pretty with her hair all ruffled around her face.

“Shane, at this point, I think we can probably skip the small talk.”

Okay, wasn't expecting
that
. Shane opened his mouth twice before finally replying, “I, ah. Okay.”

She looked at him, just as calm as you please, but her eyes flickered when he met them, giving away the slightest hint of uncertainty. “I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you don't charm every girl you know into the backseat of your car.”

Shane's gut tightened. He might not know exactly what was going on between them, but he sure as shit knew what wasn't.

“No, I don't.” His look was as unwavering as the truth behind it.

Bellamy nodded once. “All right, then. Seeing as how we're better acquainted now—” She paused to let a tiny grin settle on the curve of her lips. “And it looks like we're both on the same page since I don't make it a habit of being charmed by every mechanic I get snowed in with, maybe we could agree to forgo the weird pretenses. For the sake of being stranded and all.”

Huh. Who knew the no-bullshit thing could be so hot?

Shane cocked his head at her, unable to resist. “I charmed you?”

She arched an eyebrow and reached for the coffeepot, so close to him he could smell the clean, intoxicating scent of her hair. “I think that's a pretty good assessment. You're rather charming when you want to be.” She poured two cups of coffee, then stood on her tiptoes to examine the shelf over the pot.

“Thanks,” he said, reaching over her head to pluck two packets of sugar from the container at the back of the shelf.

Bellamy blinked as he folded them into her hand. “You're welcome. How did you know how I like my coffee?”

“Because you're not the only one who's smart around here, that's how,” Shane said, savoring the look on her face.

Oh, they were in for a verrrrrry long night together.

Shane leaned back against the workbench, watching her stir the two sugars into her coffee just as she'd done the night he took her to the Ridge. If she wanted no pretenses, he could deliver. “So what's a smart girl going to do when she goes back to the city? You think your boss will be calmed down by then?”

Bellamy's shoulders rounded slightly before she pulled them back to stand tall. “The only way that woman will calm down is with pharmaceutical assistance. I've made my bed, now I've got to lie in it, I suppose. As soon as I get back to the resort, I'll call the VP to officially resign.” She sighed, leaning against the workbench. “As crazy as it sounds, working at the bank as an analyst isn't for me.” She knelt down next to the mini-fridge and pulled it open, unearthing the bag containing the food.

“Why is that crazy?” Shane fell into a rhythm next to her, unfolding a couple of paper napkins and popping open the box of granola bars.

She tilted her head, concentrating on the food in front of her with that serious yet dreamy look on her face. “Because it's what I went to school to do, and my parents paid my way from day one. They've never said it out loud, but they run a lucrative real estate company. I'm sure they won't be thrilled I'm changing my mind so impulsively. Plus, I don't exactly have a contingency plan for hating a career I spent a ton of time and money to prepare for.”

Warning bells went off in Shane's mind, loud and foreboding, but he ignored them. “You can't spend your life doing something you weren't made to do. You'll be miserable.”

She took the granola bar he handed her, exchanging it for an apple and a surprised glance. “Easy for you to say. You love what you do. For me, it's not so cut-and-dried.”

Shane took a bite of his apple, half out of hunger and half so he didn't have to answer her right away. “How are you so sure that I love what I do?”

Her laugh pinged around in his belly along with his food. “It's obvious. I could see it on your face that very first day you looked at my car.” She paused. “Can I ask you a kind of personal question?”

The smartass part of him was tempted to remind her that, as she'd pointed out earlier, they were probably past pleasantries. “Shoot.”

“Well, the mechanics in the city make an absolute ton of money. If you love it so much, why stay here, where there's less opportunity to advance?”

Shane's blood seized in his veins, and he put his best effort into a nonchalant shrug that felt anything but. “I belong here. Plus, as much as neither one of us wants to admit it, Grady needs the help. It took me and Jackson everything we could work up to yank your transmission out, and Jackson's a house with legs.”

Bellamy laughed again, and his words kept pouring out. “You know who Cesar Millan is, right?”

“The dog whisperer guy?”

He lifted his chin in a single nod. “Yeah. Well, without getting too hokey on you, Grady's like that with cars. He's unbelievable. I mean, half the time he doesn't even need to look at what's in front of him. He can listen to a car, or go by feel of an engine, and bam! He knows what it needs or when it's right.”

“That doesn't sound hokey,” she said, honesty threading the words together. “It sounds like he's just meant to work on cars.”

Something percolated in Shane's chest, and the words continued to flow. “He had a heart attack last year, and now the physical stuff is hard on him.” He paused when Bellamy's eyes crinkled around the edges in concern, but she didn't interrupt, just let him keep talking. “Thought he'd have to retire when it happened, but it didn't seem right to close up shop when all he needed was a little help.” Shane's mind drifted around the words, spinning back to that first day in the shop, and how he knew by lunchtime that he'd never leave.

What the hell was he
doing
?

Shane cleared his throat in a rough growl and took another bite of his apple before finishing abruptly. “So it might not be glamorous, or pay a buck twenty an hour, but I don't want to be anywhere else. The city and I don't mix.” What had made him open his mouth like that, anyway?

Bellamy gave him a beguiling smile, and his edginess fell a notch. She scooped up the other apple to cradle it in the heart of her palm. “Mmm. Well, it seems you've got it all figured out. I wish I was so lucky.”

He pulled back to look at her down-to-earth expression, so honest and clean as she took a huge bite. A stream of juice trickled down her chin, eliciting a self-conscious smile from her lips. She rolled her eyes and wiped her chin with the back of her hand before taking another bite.

A warm, unexpected feeling spread out in Shane's chest like it wanted to settle in for a nice, long stay, and he rubbed the spot over his sternum. How could half an apple give you instant indigestion?

He tipped his head at her and shrugged. Time to go vague. “Luck is what you make it.”

Bellamy's smile became wistful. “I'm envious.”

“Of what? Me?” That just seemed ass-backwards.

“You sound so surprised,” she said, gesturing at him with the apple in her hand.

“I just find it hard to believe that someone like you is envious of her mechanic, that's all.” He leaned into the workbench to unwrap the sub, sliding the larger half toward her on the napkin.

“What do you mean, someone like me?” The slight bristle to her words was offset by the curiosity on her face, as if she wasn't sure which one she wanted to go with.

The edges of Shane's lips inched upward at her feistiness. “You just seem to have it all together. I mean, getting your MBA is no joke.”

She switched the halves of the sandwich and slid the bigger one back toward him before answering. “Getting my MBA was a lot of work, but I was lucky. It came naturally to me, so I never struggled with it the way some other people did. My parents never outwardly pressured me to go to grad school, but they've owned their own business since I was a kid. It all just made sense at the time.” Bellamy picked at the lettuce on her sandwich, putting it on the napkin in front of her.

“But now you'd rather do something else.”

“Maybe. I don't know. It's not like I really have the experience to switch careers. I have to do what I'm good at.”

A flicker crossed her face, barely a whisper of suggestion, but Shane recognized it. He tipped his chin at her. “If none of that mattered, what would you do?”

“It does matter,” she pointed out, finally taking a bite of her sandwich.

Her toughness knew no bounds. Shane cracked a half smile to try and loosen her up. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you kind of suck at the hypothetical game.”

Okay, that got her laughing. “Fine. If none of it mattered, I'd probably go to culinary school and be a chef.”

“So why don't you?”

“It requires a lot of time and money, one of which I now have, but the other . . .” She held up her empty palms in a soft shrug.

Nope. She might be nine kinds of cute over there, but he wasn't going down that path. “Yeah, I see your point. Still. Maybe there are ways around it.”

“Maybe. But there's something else.” Bellamy spread her fingers over the napkin, smoothing out nonexistent creases.

After a full minute during which Shane's curiosity hit an all-time high, he lifted his brows in question. “Okay, I'll bite. What else is there?”

“Well—” She broke off and took a deep breath. “I spent all this time and money to go into business, and now I don't like it. What if cooking for a living made it not-fun anymore? It'd be a hell of a way to find out, and I'm not really sure I want to risk it.”

He chewed on that for a second before answering her. “Sure, it's a risk. But what if it turns out that being a chef is something you love even more when you get to do it all the time? I mean, yeah, pulling the tranny out of your car was a pain, but if I'm being honest, I wouldn't want to be doing anything else, even on the hard days.”

Bellamy's head sprang up, curls bouncing. “I never really thought of it that way,” she breathed.

“Plus, cooking won't ever be not-fun for you.”

Her inquisitive stare sent a jolt through his chest, as if she could see every last shred of him with those green stunners. He resisted the urge to look away.

“And you're sure how?” she asked.

“The same way you're sure I love what I do. Your face just looks different when you're around food.”
Great.
That sounded totally corny. She probably thought he was an idiot.

“It does?” Bellamy blinked with surprise.

Shane chuckled. How could she not know that? “You get all excited about the grocery store, Bellamy. And I've never met anyone who thought making pasta from scratch was a fun way to blow a Sunday afternoon.”

Her cheeks flushed, which didn't make Shane want to let up, so he didn't. “I bet you've de-boned a chicken before, haven't you?” He nudged a soft laugh out of her, loving every second of the deepening rosy glow on her face.

“Well, yeah, but . . .”

Shane continued, not giving her any room to argue. “And you make all your pie crusts from scratch, too, right?”

Bellamy crossed her arms over her chest and looked like she wanted with all her might to say no. But she couldn't. “They taste better that way.”

His face got triumphant, and she let out a begrudging smile as he pressed on. “And I'll bet beyond the shadow of a doubt that you know
exactly
what wine is the perfect accompaniment to the thirty-two-ounce porterhouse at Butcher and Singer downtown.” It was one of the swankiest steak houses Philly had to offer. She'd probably eaten there a billion times.