The Mechanic

By Trinity Marlow

When Alyssa Peterson set off on a road trip for a job interview, she didn’t count on breaking down on a lonely stretch of Montana highway. And she really didn’t count on running into Mike Galway, the man who’d taken her virginity and her heart in high school, and then walked away without a backwards glance. The old attraction is stronger than ever, but Mike’s looking for something Alyssa isn’t sure she can – or wants – to give. When things get out of hand with Mike’s business partner, Alyssa has to decide whether she can trust Mike to keep her safe, or whether she should go home and forget all about the dark desires that The Mechanic awakened.

Contains BDSM/Menage

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brazen Snake Books
• Release date: Aug 14, 2011
• ISBN: 9781937477912

Trinity Marlow

Trinity Marlow is the pseudonym of an author of erotic fiction. She is far more adventurous on the page than she is in real life, and enjoys experiencing alternate lifestyles through her characters.

Book preview

Table of Contents

The Mechanic

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

About the Author

Other Books by Trinity Marlow

The Mechanic

By

Trinity Marlow

Copyright © 2011 by Trinity Marlow

TrinityMarlow.com

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Trinity Marlow.

Cover Image Credit

Photo 50024872 © Artofphoto | Dreamstime.com

Chapter 1

flourish

Alyssa used one hand to shield her eyes from the late afternoon sun. Finally, she murmured, relieved to see buildings just a little further up the road. Without thinking, she wiped her brow with the sleeve of her white linen jacket. Lowering her arm, she swore at the dark beige smear of makeup left behind.

Dammit! What else can possibly go wrong?

She adjusted her purse on her shoulder, and kept walking, her feet stinging in the expensive, white peep-toe heels she'd bought just for the interview in Billings. Not that it mattered now. The HR director at the marketing firm had been very clear that punctuality and overtime weren't optional. Between sleeping through the hotel alarm that morning and her car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, she didn't have a chance of being on time.

Heat radiated up from the asphalt in waves, and if it wasn't for the stupid shoes, she'd leave the road and hike across the scrubby terrain. The buildings were getting closer, but her heart sank as she realized there were only three. Not a town then. Or not anymore, at least. Hopefully it wasn't abandoned. Her cell phone had no coverage on this ridiculously isolated stretch of road, and it would be dark soon. Just the thought of being stranded by herself at night had her picking up the pace.

It was another fifteen minutes before she reached the main structure, a gas station that had clearly seen better days. Newer model cars were parked around the sides, and the other two buildings looked well-kept, if old. She peered in the front window, the sight of a pop machine and a computer on the counter bringing a slight smile to her lips. Clearly someone still worked there, and she hurried to the front door, nearly tripping on the threshold as she stepped into the office. A bell jingled behind her as the door shut, but the blast of cool air she was hoping for never came. Two fans moved the air around a little, but it was just as stifling inside as it was out.

Letting out a sigh, she looked around the deserted office. There was a phone on the desk, but she'd seen a tow truck outside. Maybe whoever worked here could haul her car in and fix it. That would be faster than having anyone else come out.

The faint sound of metal striking metal came from somewhere to her left, and she saw a door that must lead to the garage bays she'd noted out front. Heels clicking on the laminate floor she followed the sound, stopping suddenly when she reached the source. A tall, muscular man stood bent over the engine of a car, the tan skin of one muscular arm a sharp contrast to the white tank he wore. Dark hair cropped short, it was his familiar profile that arrested her. It couldn't really be Mike Galway, could it? What would he be doing way out here, in Montana no less? She’d been two years behind him in school - last time she'd seen him had been at his high school graduation. After giving him her virginity the night before, she'd stupidly thought it meant something.

Stop it , she mentally scolded. It's not him. You're hallucinating . Suddenly feeling ill, she leaned against the door frame. She'd ask for help, and then get some water from the machine out front.

I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help me? He turned toward her, and her pulse started pounding under her skin. It was him, and judging from the look on his face, he was not happy to see her. This day