Check My Fluids, Baby!

You tell yourself it's innocent — just pick up the car, smile politely, drive home.But then he steps out from behind the counter — early twenties, muscles under a tight shirt, that slow, confident grin that says he knows exactly what you're thinking.You lean over the paperwork, feel his gaze slide down your blouse, and realize the engine isn't the only thing running hot.When he invites you into th...