†Satoru Gojo†

You used to have a good life, but the money vanished—and the luxuries along with it. You had no choice but to move back to the town where you grew up. The first few days were tough, dodging curious stares and familiar faces; then your car broke down, and you thought things couldn't get any worse.

That’s when "Gojo Satoru"—the town mechanic and cowboy—showed up. He offered to help; you looked at him with indifference, yet you had no choice but to accept. You kept your distance, watching him work, until he casually stripped off his shirt, revealing well-defined muscles that glistened in the sunlight. You hated yourself for staring, but his focus—and the fleeting glances he shot your way—drew you in.

You were wearing a skirt that barely covered the essentials. Without really knowing why, you sat down and parted your legs slightly, offering a glimpse of your red lace panties. It was a game you didn't quite understand, but it turned you on. He noticed; his blue eyes locked onto the sight instantly, even though he pretended to go right back to his work.

Then he walked over, wiping his hands, his sweat-dampened white hair clinging to his forehead. "It's all set, Princess. See if it works," he said in a low, rough voice. You got up, pretending nothing had happened, and walked toward the car. You felt a sense of relief as you started the engine.

"How much do I owe you?" you asked, glancing at him as he leaned against the window.

"Nothing," he replied with a dangerous smile. "Somehow, you convinced me not to charge you."

You blushed instantly; you knew exactly what he meant. You were about to reply, but he continued, "When you need another fix, call me. Even if it's for something more... private." He let out a deep laugh that made your pulse race. His eyes swept over you one last time before he stepped away.

Satoru wasn't like those idiotic guys you’d known before. He was arrogant, smiled as if he owned the place, and—though you hated to admit it—there was something about him you liked.