Page 9 of Wicked Sinner

"I know, right? It was insane. But I needed the money, and he was standing there with this money clip full of cash, and.

.." I trail off, remembering the way he looked at me.

"And then he started flirting with me. Or maybe I started flirting with him.

I don't know. All I know is that one minute I was fixing his car, and the next minute I was on my knees in the garage with his cock in my mouth. "

Jenny's eyes go wide. "Bridget!"

"I know!" I bury my face in my hands. "I don't know what came over me. It was like I was possessed or something. I've never done anything like that before."

"Was it good?" she asks smugly. “It must have been, right?”

I peek at her through my fingers. "It was incredible. Like, life-changing incredible. I didn't even know sex could feel like that."

"Then why do you look like someone died?" She chuckles, fishing out a handful of chips. “C’mon, Bridg, it was just sex. Great, life-changing, world-shattering sex, apparently, but it doesn’t have to mean anything.” She peers at me. “Or is that why you’re so upset? Because it won’t happen again?”

“Ugh. I don’t know. That’s why I brought you over here.” I straighten up, running my hands through my hair. “And I guess I feel like an idiot. He waved his money and his dick around, got what he wanted, and left. Just like I knew he would. Just like men like him always do."

"Men like him?" Jenny raises an eyebrow.

"Rich. Arrogant. Used to getting whatever he wants whenever he wants it.

" I start pacing around the kitchen. "He showed up at my shop in the middle of the night, demanded I fix his car, and threw money at me until I agreed.

That's not the kind of man who sticks around.

That's the kind of man who takes what he wants and moves on. "

"Did you want him to stick around?"

I huff out a breath. “Of course not. But that’s the point. It didn’t matter what I wanted. He made it clear it was a one-time thing."

"How?"

"By leaving without asking for my number or giving me his. By saying 'it was nice meeting you' like we'd just shaken hands at a church social instead of having the best sex of my life." I lean against the counter, suddenly deflated. "I'm such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," Jenny says firmly. "You're a woman who had a great night with a hot guy. That's not a bad thing, Bridget. You're allowed to have fun. Anyway, what did you want? To be the one to reject him? It sounds like you both got what you wanted.”

She’s right, but I still feel… off. I look at her, my shoulders dropping. "But I don't have fun. I work. I fix cars. I pay bills. I don't have wild sex with strangers in my garage."

"Maybe you should more often," she says with a grin. "Sounds like you needed it."

I can't help but laugh. "Yeah, well, it's not like hot billionaires show up at my shop every night."

"Billionaire?" Jenny's eyebrows shoot up. "How do you know he's a billionaire?"

"I don't know for sure, but he was driving a brand-new Ferrari and threw around ten grand like it was nothing. Plus, he had this whole… presence about him. Like he was used to being the most powerful person in the room."

“Maybe he is. I’m sure Miami has no shortage of men like that.

” Jenny polishes off her sandwich. “It was a good time, Bridget. A good time that I, personally, think you desperately needed. You work so hard. You don’t make any time for yourself.

It’s like you think goofing off at all will disrespect your father’s memory or something… ”

“I don’t think he’d like me fucking a stranger in his garage.” I feel myself blush to the roots of my hairline. “Oh god, Jenny—”

“It’s your garage now,” she says with a grin. “Sounds like you just christened it to me.”

My blush only deepens as her grin widens. “Come on,” she insists. “I want details. Was he big?”

I glare at her, but she holds my gaze. “Fine,” I relent. “Yes. He was huge. And pierced.”

Jenny’s eyes go as wide as I’d expected. “What? Okay, I need more. Tell me everything.”

She eggs me on until I do, recounting all the lurid details of the hookup in between bites of turkey sandwich. All the way until I stop short, remembering how it all happened at the end.

“Oh shit.” I drop the last bit of my sandwich, a cold feeling running down my spine.

“What?” Jenny leans forward, and I look at her.

“He didn’t pull out.”

Her eager-for-gossip expression vanishes, replaced by the no-nonsense nurse that I’m too familiar with. She stares at me. "What do you mean he didn't pull out?"

"I mean exactly what I said. He came inside me. A lot." I feel my face burning with embarrassment, but I force myself to continue. "I was so caught up in the moment, and he felt so good, and I wasn't thinking clearly. I didn't even realize until just now."

"Are you on birth control?"

"Yes, thank God. I've been on the pill for years.

" I press my hands to my face. "But still.

How could I be so stupid? I don't even know this guy, and I let him come inside me without protection.

God, I should have made him use a condom.

A guy like that would have one on him. What if I caught something? "

"But you're on the pill, so you're probably fine," Jenny says reasonably. "For pregnancy, anyway. And you said it was incredible, right? Sometimes when something feels that good, you don't think about the practical stuff. Make an appointment and get checked out, maybe, but I’m sure it’s ok."

I glare at her. “Would you tell a patient that?”

“No,” she admits. “But you’re my friend. I’m trying to make you feel better. Definitely make an appointment with your gyno, but as far as pregnancy, I’m sure you’re in the clear.”

"I guess." I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. "You're right. I'm on the pill. I take it at the same time every day. I've never missed a dose. I'm fine."

"Of course you're fine." She reaches across the counter and squeezes my hand.

"And honestly? This might be exactly what you needed.

You've been so focused on work and keeping the shop running that you've barely dated anyone since…

since your father passed. Maybe having one incredible night with a hot stranger will remind you that there's more to life than carburetors and oil changes. "

"Maybe," I say, though I'm not convinced. "But it's not like I'm going to see him again. And even if I did, what would be the point? He's not exactly the kind of man I want to get involved with."

"No, probably not," she agrees. "But you can still enjoy the memory, right? Not every sexual encounter has to lead to a relationship. Sometimes it's just about the experience."

She's right, of course. I'm overthinking this. It was one night. One incredible night that I'll remember for the rest of my life, but it's over now. Caesar is gone, back to whatever world he came from, and I need to move on.

"You're right," I say, forcing a smile. "It was fun. I'm glad it happened. And now I can get back to my normal life."

"Exactly." Jenny grins. "Though I have to say, if more hot, mysterious strangers show up at your shop, you have my permission to fuck them senseless. Just maybe use protection next time."

"There won't be a next time," I say firmly. "I'm done with mysterious strangers. From now on, it's back to boring, predictable guys who don't make me do crazy things."

"Boring is overrated," she says, but she lets it drop.

We finish our lunch talking about other things—her job at the hospital, my upcoming bills, the weather. Normal, safe topics that don't make me think about pierced cocks and Italian endearments and the way it felt to see a man like that hungry for me.

After she leaves, I throw myself back into work. I finish the oil change, start on a brake job, and tackle the paperwork that's been piling up on my desk. By the time I close up shop, I'm exhausted but feeling more like myself.

I shower again, make dinner, watch some TV, and try to forget about Caesar Genovese and the way he made me feel.

I almost succeeded.