Jacked Up

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Nolan Ford wasn’t listening to Eve Monroe as she chewed him out.  It wasn’t that he was trying to be disrespectful but Lord, the woman could start an argument in an empty house. 

Besides, the top button on her blouse was straining, and each time she lifted her arm and waved it around, he held his breath, waiting for it to pop.  He’d had something of a crush on Eve for years, always aware when she was around the track or the garage, stomping around in her heels and severe office clothes.  She thought no one noticed that she was a woman, and seemed to work damn hard to make sure it stayed that way, but Nolan had always noticed. 

Eve was hot.  Full on, smokin’, jalapeno pepper hot.  From that lustrous deep brown hair with a hint of red, to her gold-flecked eyes, down past an amazing chest, to slim legs and a perky behind, she was all that and a bag of chips, in his opinion. 

“I mean, seriously, I don’t care what kind of underwear you wear, just wear some!” she said, making a sound of frustration.  “I mean really, let’s show a little decorum.”

Nolan fought the urge to grin.  She looked so serious when talking about his underwear.  Or lack thereof.  But he knew if he so much as curved the corner of his mouth up, her head would blow off her shoulders.  Eve was not happy about the little incident during the race the other day.  “Well, ma’am, it’s hot in those crew suits.  Some particular parts need air circulation.”

She drew in a deep breath, obviously struggling for control, but it only made her blouse pull tighter.  Nolan stared in fascination as the button slipped halfway through the hole.  If that thing gave, he was going to see her bra.  He wasn’t sure he was capable of not getting a hard-on if that happened.

And since he wasn’t wearing any underwear today either, she would probably notice. 

“Stick a bag of frozen peas in your pants.  Just wear them.”  Her hands went up to rake her hair back off her head.  “Don’t pretend you don’t understand that this is a big deal.  You have been in the business for years.  Sponsors want a friendly, wholesome image for the sport their name is attached to.  As do the team owners, and the powers that be in stock car racing.  When a jackman goes over the wall and rips his suit, the whole world doesn’t need to see his back end.”

Nolan had to agree with that.  He certainly hadn’t intended to tear the seat of his pants going over the wall into pit road when Evan’s car had stopped for a tire change.  Or for his ass to end up on YouTube.  But it had.  So what were you going to do about it?  That was his philosophy in life- don’t sweat the small stuff.  Or bare butts. 

“I do understand, Eve.  I’m proud to be a member of Evan’s crew and I take my job seriously. It was an accident.  I believe they even have a term for that- wardrobe malfunction.”

She started talking.  He stopped listening again.  As her arms waved, the button gave up the good fight and parted ways with the hole it had been in.  Her blouse sprung apart.  He was assaulted with the sight of lots of pale creamy flesh bursting out of a hot pink bra, the cleavage high and perky.  It was a gorgeous surprise, all that breast she’d been hiding under her crisp tailored shirts. 

But then that was what he thought of Eve in general- that she was hiding a whole lot of woman under the attitude.  It was a thought that had intrigued him more than once as he’d seen her typing furiously on her smart phone, clipboard tucked under her arm.  What would it be like to see every inch of her naked body, to get her to totally come undone…

“That’s just an excuse,” she was saying.  “Wardrobe malfunction.  Give me a break.  Are you even listening to me?”

Nolan nodded.  “They do happen, you know,” he drawled, really savoring the moment of triumph.  Forcing his eyes off her chest, he let his grin win out.  “You seem to have one happening right now.”

He pointed to her blouse, wide open and catching the breeze.

She glanced down and turned as pink as the lace bra she was wearing.

“I think they call that tit for tat,” he told her.