First Time Lucky(5)

By: Chance Carter


The rear door of the shop opened into a back hallway, which separated the sales floor and the auto body shop. Both sides of the building were small. We had a modest but dedicated client base, and dad didn’t care to expand the store. At least he didn’t care anymore. He used to have dreams of opening a sister location the next town over, where more bikers were known to frequent, but those dreams died around the same time as my mom.

My dad’s office was just at the end of the hall, and I braced myself, not knowing what kind of state I’d find him in. The last time I visited him at work, I found him staring at the blank wall in front of his desk. It took him a whole minute before he even realized I was there.

I passed the auto body shop doors on my way to my dad’s office. Dad did most of the repairs, though occasionally Shane came in to work on his bike or do some odd jobs for Dad. We never talked, but I’d seen him around a few times and always wondered if I should say something. Curiosity got the better of me today, after our almost chat earlier, and I poked my head around the corner of the window to take a peek.

Holy mother of pearl.

Shane was there alright. He was there and then some. I couldn’t tell how long he’d been here, but it must’ve been awhile, based on the sweat trickling down his sculpted back. He probably skipped his last class. Maybe he was a bit of a bad boy, which didn’t strike me as a negative at that moment.

It was a sight. The arms that Patrice had pointed out earlier were in full view as he fiddled with something on the back wheel of the upside down bike on the shop floor. His biceps bulged enticingly, and he turned just enough for me to see his face harrowed in concentration. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, though a few strands of it fell over his brow. In profile, he looked like a Greek god. Long, aquiline nose, prominent chin, high cheekbones. His neck was taut, leading down to those broad, sculpted shoulders that I’d admired more than once when nobody else was looking. How could this be the same high school boy who’d tried to talk to me after class today? He didn’t look like a boy. He looked like a man, hard and strong. If I had a quarter on me, I could’ve bounced it off his abs, which bunched up like frolicking kittens under his skin.

Shane’s chin turned toward me, and I snapped back away from the window, heart hammering like I’d just run a marathon or two. Did he know I was there? I stilled and listened, but all I could hear was the muffled classic rock coming from the shop and my drumming heartbeat. My mouth was dry. My body was shaking. I needed to get out of there.

Deciding that seeing my dad could wait, I hustled back to the outside door and into the cool afternoon air. The sun was peeking through the clouds now, and I wished it was dark out instead. I felt like anybody who saw me would know exactly what was going through my mind.

I raced back to my house, all but sprinting until I made it into my room and slammed the door. I was completely alone.

I shimmied out of my jeans and pounced onto the bed, sliding under the covers in the same instant as I slid my hand under the waistband of my panties. God, I was wet. It felt so wrong to touch myself to the thought of Shane, but I couldn’t help it. He looked so rugged, so tough. I could just imagine him catching me at the window, calling me into the shop just to slam me against the wall and have his wicked way with me. Sure, I was a virgin, but I’d happily give it up just to have a taste of what that hot Irish bad boy was packing.

My fingers found that sensitive bundle of nerves and I swirled my pointer finger over it. My chest heaved with the force of my breaths, thighs already quaking with pleasure. I thought of Shane’s powerful arms holding me tightly, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe. I thought of his devilish mouth nibbling on my earlobe, whispering in my ear how much he wanted me, all the naughty things he was going to do to me.

Sure, I was a good girl, just like Sasha said, but I didn’t have good thoughts. I longed for the right guy to come along, the one who would take my hand and show me all the night’s pleasures. I couldn’t think of anyone worthier of the role than Shane, with his dimpled smile and his big, strapping hands.

I cooed, slipping a finger inside myself just enough to make the pleasure more intense. In my fantasy it was Shane touching me, stroking my inner walls as he growled his pleasure in my ear. I bucked against my hand, moaning and shaking as my orgasm approached. Holy hell. If sex was anywhere near as good as this, then I was going to like it a lot. My thighs clenched. My heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to escape. The fluid bliss flowing from my fingers to the deepest parts of me began to bubble and rise, and soon I was careening over the edge of a massive climax. Since I was home alone, I indulged in a throaty scream as I came. The Shane of my fantasies liked that a lot.