A/N: A little fun(ny) one shot.

This is for the wonderful ladies in my life that I've met through FanFic and whom I can't imagine life without. Maggie (NewTwilightFan) and Ankita (Ninkita), my true soul sisters. They deal with my weirdness almost daily. I can already picture them rolling their eyes and laughing at this one shot. Hey, you asked for it.

Ellen (Twimom1960), my original momma. She reached out to me years ago when I'd first dipped my toe into writing and now she's my perviest fan/friend. In her words: "Is it hot in here?"

Danijela (Lunabev), my enabler. Holding my hand whenever I go crazy being OCD about my writing. Here's your manly man workin' up a sweat.

Sweet, gentle Kay (ghostreader24). Soft-spoken but lord, the images she's provided to feed this bunny. For her, there's a man with salt and pepper hair and gravelly voice. Thank you for the hot banner! Holy smokes!

And Nan (NKubie), who's probably laughing at this absurdity and craziness, but secretly loving the smut. You keep me in line!

I started this for the Big Dick Contest a while back but couldn't bring myself to submit it. So, here it is...

Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended. Characters will do and say crazy things. Yell at them, not me.

"Carl," I greet my boss and dispatch with a handshake. His salt and pepper hair are a stark contrast to his bright personality. I guess it would be the stress of the job that caused him to grey. Dealing with unsatisfied customers and drivers can be a hassle. But then again, I wouldn't know. I'm just a driver.

Yes, I, Bella Swan, just shy of five foot six, drive a semi truck. And not just any truck. A Kenworth W900 with a studio sleeper. It's black in color, much like my soul, if you were to believe my sister Alice. She likes to think that the colors you surround yourself with reflect and define your personality. Maybe that's true in her case—she's the cheery, fashionable, bright pink kinda lady of the family. She's all about dresses and high heels, the latest trends, unicorn nails and everything pink. I'm steel toed combat boots, flannel shirt and greasy hands. That didn't sit well with my dear sister when I didn't want to get dressed up for Prom all those years ago, and she's dubbed me the Black Swan ever since. Whatever.

"Hey, Bella. How was your trip?" Carl asks, placing his headset on the desk, a sign that tells me he's all ears.

"It was good. Same as always," I answer and get right to the point. "You scheduled my KW in for an oil change? I got the email." I tap my cellphone. He's talking about my baby—the one I bought and paid for myself. It's my pride and joy. Nobody touches her, except me. He knows this.

Carl nods. "Yeah. Just head on over across the street." He points over his shoulder in the general direction of the shop. "Edward will take care of it for you." Edward being his son.

I start to protest, but he holds up his hand. "I know. I know. She's your baby, but just let him give her a once over. Maybe you're missing something. He can find it. Like that engine light you've mentioned that keeps popping up. Edward's got the tools to diagnose it properly. And isn't it up for its yearly DOT safety inspection?"

He's got a point there and I relent with a grumbling sigh. "Yeah. Every year like clockwork."

"You're more like your old man than you realize," Carl states with a chuckle. "Give him my best when you see him."

He's talking about my dad, Charlie, the badass sheriff of Forks. He's taught me everything I know — how to shoot a gun and not miss, how to change the oil on my truck, among other things. He didn't get the son most men dream about, but I came in close — the tomboy. We're pretty close.

"Someone's gotta carry on the legacy," I return with a wink. Carl and my dad are fishing buddies. They met at a lake and they tend to still meet at a lake, usually with a few cases of beer in tow.

He chuckles, his blue eyes sparkling, and picks up his headset again as the phone starts to ring. "Meet me there in forty minutes and I'll introduce you," he states and answers the phone. "Carl here."

Taking that as my cue, I make my way outside. Shielding my eyes from the bright sunlight, I cast my gaze across the street. Cullen's Big Rig Repair Shop, or CBR as the big red block letters read on the sign over the door. The yard has a few of the fleet's trailers and three trucks — two Peterbilts and a KW.

I've never met the man myself, but I've heard some of the other drivers talk about Edward's work. No complaints so far. Based on the fact that he opened the shop a little over six months ago, I'm still a little wary. But he's my boss' son. That has to count for something. I trust Carl, so I should be able to trust his son with my truck.

Dropping the loaded trailer for the local delivery guy, I climb behind the wheel. "Alright, missy. It's always been you and me. Until now. There's gonna be another man's hands on you. So be a good girl, and try not get too attached to his hands, okay?"

I release the brakes, and they make a satisfying hiss as if in protest.


Carl meets me outside the shop as I pull up. "Son," he calls out as we step through the door. It slams shut behind me. I hear the clattering of a wrench which is followed with a curse.

Then a pair of steel toed boots appear from underneath a Freightliner, followed by coverall clad legs and a torso, revealing a scowling face. "What the fuck, dad?"

I raise a brow. My dad would wash my mouth out with soap if I greeted him in that manner.

Carl replies, but my focus is on the chiseled jaw with a day's worth of scruff, a straight manly nose and the greenest eyes I've ever laid eyes on. Add in the impressive biceps he's sporting... This is a fine specimen!

"Um…" I start as his eyes lock with mine, searching my brain for words to follow up such a classy start. I focus on his black baseball cap which sits backwards on his head. Strands of coppery hair spill out from underneath. Holy mother of Pearl! Why haven't I been here before? No, not to get my truck fixed but just to hand him tools, or to hand him water. He might be thirsty. Or to hose him down. Cuz he's doing filthy things in my fantasies.

Maybe I'm the one that needs to be hosed down.

Yeah, I need a hose… his hose, perhaps.

I bite my lip to refrain from laughing.

"This is Bella." Carl's hand on my shoulder jostles me out of the multiple fantasies my mind had been skipping through, each one starring the handsome man before me. "One of my best drivers."

Cue the blush. I clear my throat. Him with his compliments.

"Hey," Edward greets me and rises to his feet, the low husky timbre of his voice circling around me. Yeah, he needs water. Finally, I'm able to tear my eyes from his very nicely sculpted body and face, and reach for an oil rag on the tool counter behind me.

"Thanks." He eyes me warily as I hand it to him. I'm not usually one to lose all motor skills around men, but this guy… this man makes me lose function of mouth, brain and... body? And... I've stepped closer.

"She drives the W900 I told you about." Carl's here? He's still here!

Calm down, woman! Calm the fuck down.

I step back and brace my hands on the counter. Further away from him, the better. His proximity is messing with every part of me. Especially the girly parts of me. It should be illegal to look this good, right? Like he should be locked up in a dark padded room. And I'd be his caretaker and I'd take very good care of him. I don't even need to get paid. Looking at him, touching him would be payment enough.

Yep, my brain is on the fritz, too.

"That's a big truck for such a little lady."

He did not just… urgh!

I square my shoulders and give him my bitch brow. "Watch it, mister!" For emphasis, I point a finger at him.

Carl snorts out a laugh. "I'll leave you two to talk. Don't kill each other." He points a finger at both of us. "And Edward? I'll see you later." He leaves and it's just us two.

This 'privacy' has a lot of potential.

Edward chuckles and I kind of want to record that sound until the words little lady remind me why I don't like him… anymore. "I'm impressed." He nods when I remain silent. "Really. It takes guts to do what you do. And a W9 is an excellent choice. I'm a K-whopper fan myself."

I'm sure my jaw is on the floor. Did he…? He's impressed? Before I can come up with some sort of a reply, or a thank you like I normally would, Edward throws the rag back onto the counter and heads towards his office at the back.

"Pops mentioned something about an engine light?" I nod as I follow him. A mess of paperwork litters his desk and a layer of dust on top of that. It's a typical mechanic's office. The type that would rather spend his time underneath the hood than doing miniscule paperwork. There's even a black worn leather couch pushed against the far wall and I briefly wonder if he sleeps here.

"Yeah. But it hasn't appeared for a while now. Maybe it fixed itself." I shrug, knowing that's not the case, but I have hope.

Edward snorts. "Nothing fixes itself." He plops into the creaky, weathered down chair and links his fingers together behind his head. It looks so nonchalant, so sexy. "Look, if it ever shows up again, find me. I have a hunch about what it could be, but without a code to check, I can't say for sure."

"Okay." I drop the key on his desk and reach for the door handle. Being in this small space, surrounded by his scent — diesel, oil and man — combined with his masculinity makes me feel… intimidated? Or hot and bothered? I'm getting goosebumps and it's the middle of fucking summer.

He follows me out the door and heads towards my KW, popping the latches on the hood. "I'll let you know once I'm done," he calls over his shoulder. "By Monday for sure."

As I'm about to leave, I make the monumental mistake of turning around. The hood is leaned forward, the orange Cummins engine on full display and Edward… well, he's lying down on the creeper with a flashlight in his hand and crawling underneath the engine.

My feet are stuck to the floor, unwilling to budge. Move, feet, move! My eyes trail up his boot clad feet, up his muscular thighs and stop right at that massive fucking bulge outlined beneath his navy coveralls.

Oh. My. Damn.

My left eye starts to twitch as I continue to stare. And ogle. And drool. I think I even tilt my head a little and I definitely lick my lips. Those goosebumps from earlier have intensified and now I can feel heat spreading across my entire body, tingling in my toes and fingertips and down my spine. Heat gathers between my thighs as pure unadulterated lust floods me.

The first thought that jumps into my head is: shouldn't that be registered as a third leg?

I swallow roughly and trace the outline once again with my gaze. Good God! How does it… fit? Shouldn't I have noticed girls walking around with broken vaginas? Or with a limp and wincing with each step?

Maybe he's gay, is the next thought. I shake my head to myself. No, that can't be true. He'd be in jail for murder. And he definitely would not be sporting such a hard on right now.

My inner monologue stops short when a throat clears.

My eyes fly to his and heat gathers in my cheeks that could rival the temperature of the sun.


My mouth flaps like a fish out of water but no words come. Anything would be good, but I'm dumbstruck. Or dickstruck. Is that even a word?

When he winks with a devilish smirk on his lips, I spin on my heel and burst out the door. In the safe confines of my car, I place my trembling hands on the steering wheel and take deep calming breaths. That was some first impression.

That's not like me.

Somehow I make it home safely to my two bedroom condo that overlooks the bay. Pouring myself half a tumbler full of Blue Label, I head out to the patio and watch the waves rolling towards shore. The view doesn't bring me any measure of calm, though My libido and mind are still in that repair shop fixated on Edward's crotch. My fingers curl around the glass and wind whips through my hair as I contemplate going back and asking him if I can inspect his driveshaft.

My willpower is strong, although she's not my friend at the moment, and I head upstairs to take a long shower where the images in my mind of that certain mechanic drive me wild. My hand slides down my wet body and I run a finger through my folds, shivering as the fantasy comes to life behind my closed eyelids.

Edward's mouth, hot and desperate on my skin. His lips wrapping around a taut nipple and sucking it until I cry out his name.

"Edward," I moan and slide two fingers inside me. In my fantasy, he lifts me and pushes my back against the cold tile, his cock thick and pulsing at my entrance.

"Oh God."

My fingers push harder and it's not nearly enough, so I add another, pressing my thumb against my clit. I shudder, his name a whispered plea as I picture him filling me, stretching me over and over again. My body clenches.

I'm nearing the edge. My spine tingles and my stomach tightens. My fingers pump faster and I'm imagining him pounding into me so hard that it borderlines pain. It's so good, so primal. My orgasm rips through me and I bow forward with its force. White hot heat shudders through my body and my eyes squeeze shut. I bite my lower lip to keep from screaming his name.

The euphoric high fades too quickly and I slump against against the wall, breathing deeply, the luke warm water still spraying down on me.

And I won't even be limping tomorrow. Shame!


I can see the glow of the lights from in the shop casting shadows onto the still dark pavement outside as I pull up Monday morning. It's 4 a.m. What is he doing here so early? Does he really sleep here?

The door creaks as I push it open. The sound of running water meets my ears as I make my way towards the sound. My heart is pounding in my chest hoping it's him. I exhale in relief when I see Edward's head bent over the sink. He's splashing water in his face and rubbing his eyes.

"Edward?" I ask quietly in hopes not to scare him again.

He spins, water droplets flying to the ground. His face is wet, part of his hair too, and one of his eyes is red-rimmed and bloodshot.

"Little Lady," he croaks. It should annoy me but it barely registers. He starts to smile, but it quickly turns into a grimace as he rubs his eye again. With a wince, Edward turns back towards the sink again.

I'm worried and am at his side in a second, rubbing his back like that will soothe his eye. "What's wrong?"

"I got some metal shavings in my eyes."


Survival instinct kicks in and I look around the shop. Tools, tools and more tools. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

Edward points towards his office, still rubbing at his eye. I grab his hand. "Stop! It'll only get worse. Come. I know how to get those out."

"Are you a doctor now, too?" he asks slightly irritated, eyeing me with his good eye. His entire face looks like a tomato. How long has he been at it?

"No. But you should go see one," I retort. "It could be infected."

"I'll be fine."

Sure you are. Like any other man who can barely see with one eye. Oh hey, you've got a spare eye between your legs in case this one fails!

Oh God! It seems as though I can't forget about that specific organ. Great. Just great.

I swallow roughly and have him sit on the couch as I busy myself with digging through the first aid kit quickly locating what I need. "You got any bottles of water around here?"

He nods, his eyes now closed and a scowl on his face. Must be all the pain. "Fridge."

Grabbing a few chilled bottles, I take a seat beside him, trying not to notice how his body moves facing me. To an outsider, this could look very intimate. It feels that way, too.

"Can you open your eyes?" My voice is quiet, too quiet. Even my hands feel unsteady. My eyes fall to his lap, kind of wishing I had x-ray vision, like Superwoman.

"It fucking stings," he mumbles drawing my attention away from something big, definitely not small.

The green in his eyes is a stark contrast to the redness around them. And yet, they're so breathtaking that I just stare for moment, wondering if I'll find my way back.

"Little…" he pauses. "Bella? Is it really that bad?" Fear colors his voice and his hand reaches up to his face. I take it before he makes contact with his injured eye again. It's warm and still wet from the water. I don't want to let go. But I do.

Thank God for all the impromptu lessons my mother, the nurse, has given me over the years. "Just… don't rub at it again."

Edward gives me a slight nod and removes his baseball cap. Wisps of auburn hair spill onto his forehead. My fingers twitch as the urge to run them through his hair nearly consumes me. It's like they're calling my name. Bella... Bella...

Injured man! Focus!

As gently as I can, I start to dab the corner of his eye with a wet cotton swab. He hisses and I apologize. He smirks.

I guess the pain's not that bad.

The white of the swab comes away greyish, slightly coated with metal shavings. I toss it towards the trash and grab another one, dipping it in water and ask, "How did this happen?"

His minty breath washes over me as he talks. It's not difficult to concentrate on the words. It's most definitely not. However, the most burdensome task I have is focusing on his eye when all I want to do is stare at his mouth as he talks, or kiss him when he runs the tip of his tongue along his lower lip.

Is the world still spinning? Or did time stand still?

He says something about sawing a pipe and as he blew off the excess dust, it flew into his eye.

"Ever heard of safety glasses?" Sarcasm colors my voice.

His very kissable lips turn into straight line and his fingers curl into fists on his lap. Hit a nerve, have I?

"Yeah," he grumbles. "I had just forgotten at that precise moment. That happens, you know? Didn't think I'd need them."

I nod and get back to work. Most of the dust has been removed as the latest swab comes away clean.

"How did you know what to do?" he asks after a moment of tense silence.

"My mom's a nurse. She taught me some basic stuff."

Edward nods and we are quiet again. He's a good patient and lets me put eye drops into his eye. He blinks a few times and a lone tear trickles down his cheek. He wipes it away hastily. I want to kiss him, kiss it.

"Do you ever sleep?" I can't handle the stillness, the tension, and his watchful eye. His gaze follows every one of my movements. It's unnerving.

He blinks. "What?"

"It's four in the morning," I deadpan and lean a bit closer to inspect his eye. His lashes are long and curved upward. They're the kind women crave, would kill for. It must be a man thing.

"You're up," he replies, like that's an answer.

"I have to hit the road." He should know this was my reason for being here.

"Oh. Yeah. Um... well… some days I just like to get a head start." The tight lines around his eyes tell me not to push. I get the feeling there's some other explanation. "I couldn't sleep," he says quietly after a moment. I stay still, hoping he'll elaborate further, but he doesn't.

The tension thickens as neither of us speaks. I busy myself cleaning up the mess and stow away the first aid kit. When I turn back to him, Edward's head is leaned back against the couch and his eyes are closed. He looks so peaceful.

He breaks the silence as if he knows I'm blatantly staring. "So, Little Lady, am I all better? Clean bill of health?" A smirk lines his lips and I wanna kiss it away.

I take the seat next to him. "How does it feel?" I can be civil. I can pretend that he's not getting under my skin and making me feel all hot and bothered.

He opens his eyes slowly and blinks harshly a few times. "Definitely much better."

Leaning towards him, I inspect the eye. It's still a little bloodshot, but looking much better. His green irises find mine. I pause and swallow.

His finger softly brushes my cheek. "Such expressive eyes," he whispers, leaning closer.

Every move he makes, I notice, feel.

"Golden flecks among the deep brown. Like now," he leans closer still. "Hazelnut instead of coffee."

I blink and snicker. Such a mood killer. "Any other flavors?"

Edward's gaze drops to my mouth and back to my eyes again. "I wonder what color they'd be if I'd kiss you?"

Um… yeah. Let's find out, shall we?

"Probably all the colors."

Brilliant. Very brilliant!

He chuckles lowly and brushes his lips against mine. It's tender and sweet and so much more than what I had imagined. He does it again and this time, I reciprocate, sucking lightly on his soft lower lip. He groans and slants his mouth over mine, brushing his tongue over my lower lip. I open to him and it's mind blowing. The perfect amount of lips and tongue. His hands grip my hips and lift me astride his lap, aligning our pelves. I gasp as I feel him pressing against me.

Oh my! Mechanic's got some serious tool!

More spank for my bank.

Edward groans and kisses across my cheek, sucking on the skin beneath my ear. It drives me wild, sending shivers down my spine.

"Bella," he grits out, his hands holding my hips in a death grip.

I don't mind bruises.

His mouth returns to mine and he kisses me lightly. Once. Twice. Then draws back.

Don't stop!

"I have to be honest with you."

"Okay," I whisper and kiss his stubbled cheek and down his throat. I don't care what he has to say. I care about him being naked and using that massive piston in his pants to drive me across the finish line.

"Friday," he starts and I feel his throat move as he swallows. But that word causes me to back away. Friday means my staring session. Friday means humiliation. Friday was cursed.

He looks down to me sitting on his lap and I follow his gaze. Hot damn! He's put up a tent that could house a dozen soldiers.

I'd like to report for fucking duty, sir.

"It wasn't…" he clears his throat. He's cute when he's nervous. "It wasn't what you thought you saw."

I'm tempted to move away from him because this doesn't sound good. Dread starts to rise in my chest. Not what I'd like to be feeling right now.

I want tingles and shivers and… orgasms.

Yep, it's been too long. Pun intended.

Realization dawns on me and I scramble off his lap, out of his reach. "What did I see?" I grit out, having moved to the desk. I brace my hand on it, the other running along my neck. I feel hot and not the good kind of hot like I did a few minutes ago. No, this kind of hot is embarrassment.

Edward rises to his feet and takes a step towards me. "A hose fitting," he admits. "I had it in my pocket and I guess, it looked like…" he trails off.

Oh god. Oh god! This can't be happening. Did I really… masturbate to images of a fucking hose fitting? It was shaped like a dick!

Humiliation surges through me and I silently beg the ground to open up and swallow me whole. "I should leave," I mumble, too embarrassed to look him in the eye as I turn and head out the door.

Of course, he follows me. "Bella. Stop." I keep going. "Please stop."

With my boot on the first step of my truck, I turn. "It's okay. It was my fault. I…" I pause and close my eyes, hoping to get rid of this humiliation I feel. "I shouldn't have..."

Edward turns me around to face him and plants my ass on the second step, spreading my legs wide and pushing his pelvis against mine. He's so hard; thick and long.

"Stop. I should have been honest with you, but you ran out of here like a bat out of hell." He chuckles lowly. "It was kind of funny."

"Laugh it up, mister," I growl, trying to push him away. I can't handle him teasing me this way.

"I'm sorry," he whispers with his lips against my neck. I shiver. "Don't leave just yet."

"I should hit the road." I got time, but I kind of want him to want this. Just like I want it.

"Not yet," he grumbles and grips my hips, pushing his cock harder against me.

No leaving until I'm limping. Good plan.

His lips find mine and it's hot and demanding as he pushes his tongue past my lips to tangle with mine. He's dominant and possessive. It's so fucking hot that I feel like I'm gonna combust just from his kisses. My fingers push through his soft hair and he moans.

"Is this really happening?" I ask breathlessly as his lips trail down my neck again. My eyes close and I just feel.

He sucks on my collarbone and pushes his hips forward again. "Only if you want it to."

Oh, I want! I want. Gimme! Gimme!

"Then touch me, please."

"Where?" His lips trail up to my ear. He gently bites down and I tremble. "Where do you want me the most?" His voice is gritty and husky.

Do I have to draw a map?

"Inside me. On me. I want you everywhere."

"Fuck," he curses and pushes my shirt over my head. It falls to the floor. "You can't say things like that, especially with tits like these." He palms them and looks at them like a little boy looks at a shelf full of candy in a store.

Take all the candy. Take it!

"Do you want me to be quiet?" I quip and start to pull down the zipper of his coveralls. His sculpted chest comes into view and I lean forward. I trail my tongue over his nipple and he hisses. His fingers falter on the zipper of my pants. "Shit."

Make note. More nipple licking.

"Don't you dare be quiet."

"Alright. Now where's that big rig?" I palm him through his clothes. It twitches against my hand as if to tap hello and it makes me want to kiss it.

Shower fantasy Edward's got nothing on this guy. Holy shit!

"Damn." He chuckles. "That should not sound so sexy."

"Here's a bit more sexy to go along with that. Take me into your office. These step treads are digging holes into my ass." I wince at the pain.

He pulls back and hoists my legs around his waist, the friction of him pressing into the apex of my thighs creating a delicious ache. His big, calloused hands squeeze and rub my asscheeks as he walks towards his office like I weigh nothing. Showoff!

"My turn to play doctor."

"Or mechanic." I grin at him, rotating my hips.

He falters slightly and curses. Score.

"I got just the right lube for the job." He sets me down and slides down the zipper of my jeans and pushes them past my hips. Finally!

"I might just open my hood for that."

His eyes glaze over at the innuendo, at what I could possibly, probably be saying. At my slight smirk, he groans and kisses me hard, his hands everywhere. My ass, my tits and in my panties, his fingers teasing me. Craftsmanship all around. "Fuck, little lady. Lose those damn clothes now." He strips down to his naked glory, sits on the couch and spreads his arms across the back of it, one pulsing piston pointing straight at me. I can hear it calling my name.

Your mission, should you choose to accept…

I whimper, want barreling through me like a freight train. Oh god! Clothes on the floor, I catch sight of a dark smudge on my tits, close to my nipple. Then another and another on my belly and on my waist. Even one across my pelvic bone.

Fucking Neanderthal marked his territory. I straddle his hips. "Nice art work."

He cups my ass and slides his cock through my folds. I moan loudly, like the desperate hussy I am. "Working on my masterpiece right now." His fingers dig into my flesh.

"You're such a dick."

"As in the one you're teasing right now?"

Cocky fucker. Sexy fucker. Sexy fucking cock. I'll have all of the above please, Alex.

I still for a moment. As fun as all the flirting and foreplay has been, I just want to know one thing. "Will I be limping tomorrow?"

With his laugh, I slide down onto him, welcoming the sting of pain. His laugh turns into a deep guttural moan. "Fuck!" We both curse, bowing towards each other as the euphoria envelops us. Fully seated on his lap, I have to catch my breath and let my body adjust. He's big, warm and twitching inside me. It's fantastic.

Shower Edward can go suck it. Real Dick Cullen taking over.

Edward presses his forehead to my chest, his panting breath causing my nipples to harden, which in turn, causes me to pulse around him.

"Little lady," he warns in a gruff voice, his fingers a death grip on my hips. "Give me a minute, will you?"

And cue the ego inflation. I've got the power!

After a moment, Edward's breathing slows and he lifts his gaze. There's a tenderness in his eyes and it catches me off guard. Possibilities float through my head, so I kiss him and rotate my hips. God, that's good.

I moan. He pulls back and thrusts. I gasp. He grins and does it again. "One limp of many coming right up."

Promises, promises.

"Show me what you got, big rig," I grit out and grab his hair, fusing my lips to his. Tongue clash, lips taste and gasp. Bodies give and take. It's a dance I don't want to end.

"Feels so fucking good." His eyes trail to where he's driving into me and groans deep in his throat. "You're so fucking sexy driving my stick."

His filthy words, his manly body, his big dick, his sensual mouth sucking on my nipple… everything is pushing me towards that sweet oblivion.

Come on, big boy, drive faster.

I'm so wrapped up in him and in this moment that I miss the slam of the shop's door and heavy footsteps until…

"Son of a bitch! For fuck's sake, you two!"

We both freeze, panting, like deer in headlights. Shit! Fuck!

Footsteps retreat, then, "Son, I wonder what Charlie will think of you defiling his daughter in a greasy mechanics shop." Carl's laughter dies with the slam of the door.

I look at Edward and he's grinning like an idiot. Does the fact that his dad walked in on us doing the nasty not phase him?

He's still hard. What do you think?

"Fucking worth it and I plan on doing it again and again and again."

My heart melts. Awww. What a big sap… with a big rig. He kisses me slow and deep, punctuating his intentions with each swipe of his tongue and each continuing thrust. Yep, definitely worth it.

A/N: Hope you've enjoyed it.

Happy Birthday, Ankita!