Book 7: Clover Park Series
Nico Marino was about to get lucky. At work too. He was the boss, so he could take a fuck break whenever he wanted. He washed his grease-covered hands in the sink in the back of the repair shop. His hands were filthy from his work on restoring a 1967 Lotus Super Seven, and he considered if maybe he should leave a little dirt behind. The red-haired beauty his stepbrother Luke was sending his way was a rich Manhattan socialite, who wanted a man who “got his hands dirty for a living.” Another reason she’d wanted to see him at work, in his element so to speak. She’d seen a picture of him and Luke in front of Nico’s prize 1971 Porsche 911E in Luke’s Wall Street office. She’d asked Luke to arrange the meeting to indulge her blue-collar sexual fantasy, though she’d couched the request more subtly. Nico was happy to oblige.
He dried his hands on a paper towel and headed to his office in the back of the Exotic and Classic Restorations showroom. Nico owned the shop, which consisted of a showroom, lot, and four-bay garage for the restoration work. Unfortunately, he didn’t fully own the shop. He took it over from his former boss, Kevin Mallory, when Kevin retired four years ago. Nico paid him a stake upfront, but, despite saving like crazy, buying out his silent partner was going excruciatingly slow. Nico liked fast in everything—cars, women, making money. He was thirty-two and it was way past time for him to make something of himself. To be a success. He was always on the hunt for a prize barn find, some undiscovered beauty of an old car to restore and sell for the big bucks.
He took off his work shirt, hanging it on a hook on the back of the office door, and sat at his desk in his clean white undershirt. He figured the woman might want dirty hands, but she wouldn’t want grease on her fancy designer clothes. He had twenty minutes to kill before she got here, so he went through some of the paperwork cluttering his desk. Only five minutes later, the front door of the showroom chimed. He glanced over through the one-way glass window facing the showroom and caught a glimpse of red hair. She was early, but what the hell. He cleared the desk of paperwork and stacked it in a pile. Now he had two surfaces to work with—wall or desk, depending on which way things went.
He stood and watched the red-haired beauty for a moment. She took off her large round sunglasses and tucked them into her purse, looking all around the place. She looked younger than Luke had described. Probably had plastic surgery like all the wealthy society women. She wore a dark blue sleeveless dress with yellow flowers that showed off an abundance of curves in all the right places. Her feet were in green spiked heels with a bow across the front. The bow with its girliness was a sharp contrast to the spiked heels, which sent a very different message.
Intrigued, he made a quick exit from the office and strode across the showroom. As he approached, she looked behind her and then back to him. She was tall for a woman and, with the heels, they were eye to eye. He offered a hand with his trademark killer smile—part player, part charm. “Hi, I’m Nico.”
She shook his hand. “H-hi.”
She was playing shy. How cute.
“Right this way,” he said.
He led her to his office and shut the door. “We both know why you’re here,” he said before he bent her over his arm and kissed her just like he’d seen in a movie once. She tasted like cherries, and he was unexpectedly greedy for more. The kiss went on and on, an urgency he hadn’t felt in a very long time, driving him. She was all softness, hot and sweet. Long moments later, he finally let her back up, breathing hard. Her bright blue eyes were wide.
And then she slapped him.
Ow. He put a hand to his stinging cheek.
“Do that again,” she said.
He did, this time pressing her curvy body fully against him. Her tongue slid alongside his, which made him crazed. He couldn’t stop kissing her, and the urgency to have her had him lowering her over the desk. He reached down and hiked up her dress. She squeaked.
He tore his mouth from hers. “What’s wrong?”
She smoothed her hair. Her cheeks were pink. “If that’s how you treat all your customers, I’ll shop here more often.”
Shop? Oh, fuck no. He eased himself off her. “Wait, who are you?”
She sat up. “Lily Spencer. My father has an account here. He told me to get whatever I wanted as a graduation present.”
No, hell, no. What had he done? Her dad, George Spencer, was his best, wealthiest client. He could barely think straight. All the blood had left his brain the minute her lips touched his.
His gut twisted as something truly horrifying occurred to him. “Please tell me you’re not graduating high school.”
She smiled mischievously and didn’t answer.
“How old are you?” he barked.
“Relax. I just graduated law school.”
He shoved both hands in his hair, trying to force his brain to think rationally while his body was still in full-tilt crazy lust. “So you’re not Tiffany?”
She tilted her head. “Does Lily sound like Tiffany?”
“I thought you were someone else,” he said.
“I’m not.”
“Are you going to tell your dad?”
She gave him an impish smile. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you do it again.” She winked. “That means I want you to.”
He hesitated because this was so wrong, but he couldn’t stop staring at her lush mouth.
“I love your customer service,” she purred. And then she wrapped both arms around his neck, pressed her hot curvy body against his, and kissed him again.
He couldn’t help himself. He dove back in for more, one hand shoved in those silky locks, kissing her like a starving man. His other hand slid down her back to her ass, pressing her against him where he badly needed relief.
She pulled away a moment later, a bemused smile on her lips. There was a small bow, a slight dip, on her upper lip that had him reaching out to touch with one finger, tracing it. She met his eyes with her electric blues, and he felt it like a jolt to his system.
She let out a shaky breath. “Maybe you should help me buy a car now.”
He pressed his thumb to her plump lower lip, imagining that mouth on him. She was made for sin. “Yeah, sure,” he managed. But all he could think was more.
She slipped past him and out of the office. He gave himself a moment to get rid of his massive hard-on, but it wasn’t going anyplace soon. He pulled on his work shirt, buttoned it, and left it untucked, hoping that would give him some cover. Then he took a deep breath and joined Lily Spencer, daughter of his best client, in the showroom.
