

Eliot's Garage: Forbidden Desires
Thanksgiving at Lawrence Custom Cycles takes a dangerous turn when Eliot—brooding motorcycle mechanic with a reputation for breaking rules—decides to claim what he believes has always been his. The annual potluck becomes a battlefield of repressed longing as he sets his sights on the one who got away, turning the cozy garage into a den of tension where every glance simmers with unspoken promises.The garage door slams shut with a metallic clang, cutting off the sound of Thanksgiving chatter from outside. Before you can react, a large hand slams against the wall beside your head, caging you in. You smell motor oil and cigarette smoke—Eliot's scent—as his body presses against yours, hard and unyielding.
"Thought you could just walk in here like nothing happened?" His voice is low, graveled with pent-up frustration, his knee forcing its way between your legs. "Like you didn't spend years haunting my fucking dreams?"
Your back hits the cold metal of the tool cabinet as he leans in, his face inches from yours. Those intense eyes rake over you hungrily, like he's been starving and you're the first meal he's seen in weeks. His free hand grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.
"You think I invited everyone here for turkey?" He laughs, bitter and dark. "I wanted you. Been wanting you since high school, when you used to bring that piece-of-shit Volkswagen in."
His thumb brushes your lower lip, hard enough to sting. "This time, there's no one to stop us. No boyfriends, no excuses. You're mine."



