amaratheaxle:
Mara was staring unflinchingly at the huge mess she had going on under the hood of the 69 Ferrari Dino 246 GT. The car was a thing of beauty back in its days, and she’d been trying to restore it to its former glory. Now, though, she gripped the chassis of the car angrily as her eyes moved over the cogs and mechanisms which she knew weren’t working as they should, and couldn’t figure out why. She’d been having this problem for about two hours now and was exhausted and annoyed as hell, covered in grease up to her forearms, some of it staining her cheek, and her curls where piled up at the top of her head. It was truly the definition of frustration.
She was so focused on mentally cursing every car part she knew of she didn’t even hear the door of the workshop open or the sound of his perfectly polished italian shoes against the concrete pavement as he approached her, until he was right behind her.
Ever since Amara had fixed the first car he’d brought to her (and in fact had it up and running better than it had been when he’d bought it), Frank had brought her all of his cars since. She was a miracle worker, and more than that she was easy on the eyes. It hadn’t been long before the two had found themselves in bed together - or rather on the hood of his car - and since then whenever he’d come to visit her they’d had a little extra fun as well.
He was surprised she hadn’t turned around, or even said something to him, but Frank just took the opportunity to eye up Amara’s ass before he finally broke the silence. “Hope you’ve not killed my baby.”
