“A girlfriend who is going to have the dubious pleasure of watching Shane-o get his gear off,” Macca said, flicking through a playlist with a grin.
“Seriously, again? I’m starting to think there’s an ulterior motive here, mate.” Shane grumbled.
“Off you go. Make yourself pretty,” Macca said.
Shane looked over his shoulder at Jez who now arched her back, hands gr
asping the handlebars and then grinned. “Pump the song through the PA system.”
The guys started to cackle at this. Mick had come back with the beer, so he went over to the massive speakers near the mezzanine steps and started to fiddle with the MP3 player hooked up to it. They don’t realise, I thought as Ricky took a long swallow of her beer then rolled a cigarette with practised hands. She looked over as Shane crossed the floor, opening a big black chest and pulling out what looked like fancy dress. She smiled briefly as he began shimmying into what looked like a little stretchy skirt. She tried to keep her eyes away from him, keep them on the other guys, what was going on in the shed, even me , but sure enough, before long they strayed back to Gabe, lingering there as if trying to memorise every inch of him.
“C’mon bitch, get the show on the road,” Gabe said, getting to his feet. “Lance, take a break, get the other girls ready. Shaney doesn’t last that long, anyway.”
“That’s not what your mum said,” he snapped back, stepping into the floodlight.
“You forgot something, mate,” Mick said, appearing beside him with a perilously high pair of lucite heels.
“Shit, he’s going to break his neck if he puts them on,” I said, frowning as Shane struggled to get his broad feet into the shoes.
“Don’t worry about Shane,” Gabe said, sitting down beside me and slinging an arm around me.
“He’s got this shit down pat,” Macca said.
“Seriously, don't worry about him,” Gabe said, looking into my eyes, looking for . . . what I didn’t know.
“OK, go about your weird bloke rituals.” Gabe’s arm relaxed around my shoulders and he started to crack up as Shane made a show of walking in the shoes, wobbling cartoonishly on them. Jez turned, searching the crowd and then seeing me.
She dismounted from the bike, about to come over when Shane said, “Nah love, you’re part of my act. Slide back on that bike for me.” She just took him all in, from the high heels and skirt to the tight t-shirt, starting to smile when she saw how well it stretched over his well-defined biceps. She leaned up against the bike, arms crossed and looked expectant.
“C’mon Shane-o, you fucking pussy!” someone yelled from the now gathering crowd.
“Put the fucking song on,” Shane muttered, shaking his arms, then legs out like he was a flash dancer about to perform. The slow grinding sounds of a stripper song rang out through the workshop to the roars of approval of the crowd.
Jez smirked as Shane stalked over to her, surprisingly well on the high heels, I couldn’t do it without tripping, but he could. He ran his fingers up his thighs and across his chest in time with the music, grabbing the hem of his shirt and whipping it off in one movement, tossing it over his shoulders. Jez’s eyes went wide and a spurt of much more feminine shouts and whistles went up around the crowd. She openly ogled the broad expanse of ripped muscle, reaching out to touch almost involuntarily, before pulling her hand back.
“My body says yes, as my mind says no,” the song said as he caressed a hand over his abs.
“Pretty sure all parts of him are saying yes,” Mick grumbled. “This is a shit punishment. He gets laid every damned time.”
“Yeah, but this way less people get put in hospital,” Macca said.
“Disputes used to get settled the old way,” Gabe explained to me, “by punching on. We started a dare system, where the party in the wrong has to do something embarrassing at the other's orders. Reduced the amount of sick leave used by about 70%.”
“Oh, God!” I said when I looked back.
“Let’s take it slower
As your hand goes lower,” the song went. Jez now had her hand down Shane’s skirt and was evidently following the singer’s instructions. He crushed his hand over hers and thrust his hips violently against her. Jez’s smiled was curving upwards. Apparently, she was happy with what she’d summoned.
“Don’t look at that dickhead,” Gabe said, pushing my chin with his finger, so our eyes locked. “S’why I didn’t want to stick around. Things get crazy here.”
“You gotta admit, it’s pretty funny. And disturbing, very disturbing. How does a mechanic get quite so adept at walking in the heels like that?”
Gabe closed the gap between us, his lips slightly rough on mine. I forgot all about Jez, Shane and the song as he pulled me closer, groaning deep in his chest. I tangled my hands in the soft mass of his hair, leaning in further to make more contact.
“Fuck! What’s Rick doing?” Macca asked.
We pulled apart, eyes blinking, panting slightly to see Ricky stalk over to the dress up box and pull out a gorgeous pair of black stilettos. Who around here bought the supplies for the dress up box? I wondered. Whistles and catcalls rang out as she pulled off the overalls, revealing a pair of worn skinny leg jeans and a white wife-beater. She fiddled with the MP3 player, stopping the song, not that Shane and Jez noticed. She hadn’t removed her hand and he looked like he really didn’t want her to. The song had changed to something a little more up tempo and Ricky stomped her way over to the bike, in time to the music, like some kind of model.