Carter laughed. “Well, Bash likes the ladies. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Either way, it made me wish I was with you, which probably had a lot to do with me showing up here. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind? I said I missed being with you. Though I’m a little too dirty to show my appreciation at the moment.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, moving into him, nestling her body up against his. “Did I mention the smell of motor oil is a huge turn-on for me?”

Unable to resist, he grasped her hips, digging his fingers into the denim of her jeans as his body reacted to her. “Is that right?”

“Yes.” She curled her fingers around the nape of his neck, then pressed a kiss to the side of his throat. “A huge turn-on. Like . . . gets me hot instantly.”

He was already hard. “I’m going to get you dirty, Molly.”

She pulled her scarf off. “That’s okay.” She pulled up his T-shirt and snaked her fingers over his stomach. “I like dirty.”

His tangled his fingers into her hair and gave her a raw, hungry kiss that made him shudder with need.

He’d been thinking about her tonight while he’d worked on the car, had wished she’d been there with him, was damn glad she was here now so he could breathe in her sweet scent, feel the way her lips moved against him, and run his hands over the soft curves of her body.

He turned her around, cupping her neck and pushing her hair to the side so he could kiss the back of her neck, so damn satisfied when she moaned. He swept his hand over her body, needing to touch every part of her, starting with her beautiful back, and ending with squeezing her sweetly shaped ass.

“Are you cold out here?” he asked.

“No. I’m hot.”

“Good. Wait right here.” He placed her hands, palm down, on the fender of his car. “Don’t move.”

He dashed into the house, scrubbed the grease off his hands with soap and hot water, grabbed a condom, and came back, stopping at the doorway to see her, watching him, her hair swept over one shoulder, her butt tilted at an upward angle. She gave him a wickedly sexy smile.

She was waiting for him.

And he was ready for her. He came up behind her, smoothing his hand over the curve of her butt. “You have a great ass, Molly. I love to walk behind you and look at it.”

“And you have great hands. Why don’t you use them on me?” She straightened and undid the button of her jeans, then unzipped them.

“I’d be more than happy to.” He pulled her back against his chest, sliding his hand over her sweater to cup her breasts. Even through the sweater and her bra he could feel the tight buds of her nipples, teased and stroked them until she rubbed her butt against his erection.

It was at times like this he felt it was his God-given right as a man to touch this woman, that they’d been meant for each other. No one had ever made him feel the things Molly made him feel, had ever moved him to want as much as he wanted whenever he was with her.

He shifted his hands lower, lifting her sweater to get at the soft skin of her stomach, then dipped his hand inside her jeans, under her panties.

She was hot, damp, and ready for him, melting all over his fingers as he teased and coaxed her body. He’d known her for what felt like his entire life, knew what she liked and how, and it was a little bit of heaven to feel her arch and tremble as she tightened around him, her entire body tensing with her orgasm.

He held her as she rode it out, then pulled down her jeans and unzipped his and put on the condom. He bent her over his car and took a moment to fully appreciate the beauty of the woman before him, before snugging up against her and easing inside.

She lifted, then said, “Carter,” in a soft whisper that tightened his balls and made him thrust deeper. With every plunge he wanted to be so much a part of her he didn’t know where he ended and Molly began.

God, she was beautiful like this, pushing back against him, raw and untamed, her cries of completion tearing into him, through him, until a groan tore from his throat and he followed with his own orgasm.

He held on to the car with one hand, his other arm wrapped around Molly. She’d shattered him. She always had.

He closed his eyes, listening to her breathe, feeling the pounding of her pulse and the way their bodies fit together. It was something he’d never taken time for when they were younger.

Now, it was just goddamned perfect.

They pulled apart and righted their clothes, then went inside to clean up. He took a quick shower and threw on a T-shirt and sweats.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked as they settled into the living room.

“I’m a little dehydrated from the alcohol I had earlier,” she said as she pulled off her boots, wiggling her toes to stretch. “How about some water?”

He fixed them both drinks, then brought them into the living room. Molly had already stretched out on the sofa, pulling a blanket from the back. She held it open for him and he snuggled in beside her.

She grabbed the remote and flipped the television on, found a movie, then inched beside him, resting her head on his chest. He put his arm around her.

Within about ten minutes, she was asleep.

Well, hell. This was even better. A night spent working on his favorite car, followed up by a surprise visit from his woman, and some mind-blowing sex. To top it off, said favorite woman was now asleep in his arms on the sofa.

He loved her. He paused to reflect on that, waiting for the panic and the doubt.