Coyote's eyes met hers, unwavering. For a moment, he stood frozen, caught off guard. He didn't know what to say, didn't even know where to start. But one thing was certain—he couldn't tell her the truth. Not now. Not ever.
"Come on! Tell me. Are you a mutant or some supernatural creature?" Isabella asked, stepping closer to him. Her approach was strategic, closing the space between them, pressing in on his thoughts. She was trying to catch him off guard—control the conversation before he had a chance to dodge it.
Coyote gave her a sly smile. "Would you still want me to take you from behind if I was any of the things you just mentioned?"
Before she could answer, he spun her gently around, her back against his groin. He pressed his growing hardness against her butt, and she let out a soft moan, breath hitching. He leaned close, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
"Would it really matter, if I can take you from this position and work your gorgeous body like no one ever has?"
She quivered, her breath catching again as her chest rose and fell. Isabella tried to keep control, to face him and finish the question burning in her mind—but he slipped his fingers down and found her soaked center. Her body betrayed her, hips jerking at the contact.
"Tell me the tru—" Her voice faltered, cut off by the wave of sensation as Coyote's fingers moved expertly between her folds.
Coyote grinned. He had her. If words were weapons, touch was his shield. He started working her clitoris until she was trembling, dripping with desire. Then he slipped on a condom, positioned himself behind her, and slid into her in one smooth, aching thrust.
She wasn't as tight this time, but the way her walls clung to him—squeezing, pulsing—nearly made him lose control. Isabella moaned loudly, arching her back as he began to move, grabbing her breasts, squeezing them as he thrust into her with deep, steady strokes.
The pleasure that surged through her was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her mind blurred. What kind of man is this? she wondered, barely able to form a coherent thought.
Midway through, Coyote turned her around, pressing her against the cool marble wall. He lifted her right leg and entered her again, harder this time. Their bodies collided with primal rhythm, skin slapping against skin, their grunts and moans echoing through the bathroom, filling the entire suite with their sounds of pleasure.
It didn't take long for the wave to crest.
Coyote came first, his groan low and guttural, and Isabella followed, her moans peaking as her orgasm tore through her.
He kissed her hard, then whispered, "Don't ask me that question again, if you want to keep getting satisfied by me."
Isabella paused, catching her breath. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she replied, "What question?"
They both laughed softly, their bodies still pressed close. She rinsed off under the water and turned to leave the bathroom, but Coyote caught her wrist, gently stopping her.
"Don't tell me you're leaving. We just got started."
Isabella looked down and saw he was hard again. She smirked.
He's definitely a mutant. An insatiable mutant, she thought.
With a teasing smile, she closed the bathroom door behind her and stepped back inside.
—--
—--
It was already afternoon when Coyote arrived at the auto shop, and his intentions were clear—he needed to quit his job. Now that he had a sponsor, his full focus had to be on racing again.
Most people would've just ghosted the place. The last guy who quit didn't even show up—he just sent Mr. Knox a message. But Coyote wasn't like that. As flawed as Mr. Knox could be, he was still a decent man, someone who tried to do the right thing, even if he didn't always succeed. He was the only one who gave Coyote a shot when no one else would, and for that alone, he deserved this courtesy.
Coyote scanned the familiar space, taking in the cluttered shop as he searched for Mr. Knox. He called out his name and got a reply from the staff restroom.
A moment later, Mr. Knox stepped out, drying his hands on a rag. His gaze locked on Coyote with a raised brow, taking in his appearance.
"Coyote, I thought you wouldn't come in today, since you were beaten to stupor last night. But looking at you now, I gotta ask if my eyes are playing tricks on me."
"Why do you think your eyes are playing tricks on you, sir?" Coyote asked, a little confused.
Mr. Knox stepped closer, still studying him. "Your injuries seem to have healed up nicely."
God damn it. Coyote tensed. Why did the system heal me so fast? Now everyone's asking questions.
[Well, it was either this or you'd be in a coma right now.]
Coyote winced at the thought. A coma—and all the hospital bills that would follow? Yeah, no thanks.
He turned back to Mr. Knox. "I guess I wasn't as injured as you thought. I fucking drove my car last night."
"Yeah, I might've exaggerated. So, we have two cars waiting for your attention, young man. Get to work," Mr. Knox said, heading toward a Honda SUV and a Lexus Sedan.
"Sir, that's the thing... today's my last day working here," Coyote said, watching carefully for the older man's reaction.
Mr. Knox stopped mid-step and turned back around. "Seriously? Is it because of me? Did I do something? Is there something I can do to make you stay?"
The questions hit rapid-fire, and Coyote wasn't sure which one to answer first.
"Sir, you didn't do anything wrong. Maybe ease up on the gambling," he said with a small smirk, "but this isn't about you."
"So what is it about? Tell me."
"I'm going back to racing. I just got a sponsor," Coyote said, and he couldn't help the grin pulling at his lips.
"Wow! Coyote, so it eventually happened?" the old man said, his tone tinged with excitement.
"Yes, sir."
Mr. Knox shook his head, a bittersweet look on his face. "I knew this day would come, but I'm still not prepared for it. This is a good reason to quit, young man. I wish you the best."
Coyote smiled in return, just as Jax walked into the shop. He greeted Mr. Knox, who turned back to Coyote and said, "Since you just quit, would you do me a kindness and repair those two cars?"
"You got it, sir," Coyote replied.
Mr. Knox nodded with a grateful smile and walked off, leaving Coyote and Jax alone in the shop.
Jax glanced at Coyote, eyebrows raised. "Dude, what's that about you quitting? Is that true?"
"Yes. I'm just coming back from a meeting with Isabella at her suite. She offered to be my sponsor and I said yes," Coyote said, barely able to contain the excitement in his voice.
"Wow! Are you serious?" Jax stared at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke.
"Yes, dude. I have a sponsor. A very rich sponsor," Coyote said, still beaming.
Jax grinned back at him for a moment, then leaned in with a mischievous look. "You fucked her, didn't you?"