“I know you’re a little sore,” he said, nuzzling my neck, my ear. “Thought we could soak together.”
“Aw. Did you have a hard night last night too?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” His soft laughter was downright dirty, making a shiver run up my spine. “Plus, I got this dream of you, bare-ass naked, wearing nothing but bubbles. Had to make that happen.”
A thrill ran right through me at his words. Goose bumps covered my arms. “You been having dirty thoughts about me, Mr. Collins?”
“Constantly.”
“Since when?”
He looked away, a rosy kind of hue on his cheeks. No. Way. The man was blushing. Mixed with his wild long wavy hair and mountain man beard, it was such a surprise, pure delight.
“I’d rather not say,” came the mumble from deep in his large, solid chest.
“Hmm.” I rested my chin on his chest, gazing up at him. “Joe, tell me some of your non-PG-rated thoughts, please.”
Brows scrunched up, he sighed and tucked my hair behind one of my ears. His breath warmed my neck, teeth tugging gently at my lobe. It tickled.
“Hey.” I smiled. “Talk.”
“Little Miss Fucking Sunshine, I’m not that original.” His nose brushed the side of my face, lips teasing my neck.
Mouth open ever so slightly, I waited.
“Fucking you in all sorts of ways. Different positions.” A soft breath. “Pretty much on every surface in this room. And in my truck too.”
“Mm?”
“Licking you all over, eating your sweet pussy.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Yeah?” His lips dragged along my jawline, hands pressing into me. “How about if I wanted to play with this gorgeous tight ass?”
“Um.” Not being an idiot, I hesitated for only about half a second. “That could probably be arranged.”
The man groaned, burying his face in my neck. Something was definitely filling the front of his jeans in a big way, digging into my stomach.
“Basically,” he said, voice little more than a rumble, “with your permission, I just want to hold you down and make love to you for a good long time, watching your face as you come.”
I pulled back, wrinkling my nose at him. “Seriously?”
Joe just shrugged. “You asked.”
“It’s not making love, it’s sex. And God, you and the eye contact.” My shoulders slumped, body sagging. “Why?”
“Relax, Alex. I still want to kiss, lick, bite, and spank you. Fuck you good and hard every way I know how. A little bit of staring into each other’s eyes is not the end of the world.” He kissed me on the forehead. “If you gave yourself a chance to get used to it, you might even find you enjoy it.”
I huffed out a breath. “Once. But only because I like you.”
Slowly, he nodded. “Thank you. I like you too.”
“Tomorrow for the rest?”
“Tomorrow, when you’re not so sore.” His big hands cupped my face, angling me up for a kiss. Such a sweet man. “For now, naked covered in bubbles, sitting on my lap, drinking a beer.”
I reached behind my back, undoing the clasp on my bra. “Can I tell you all my sexually twisted dirty thoughts too?”
His grin was pure predator. “I’d like that.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Message sent three weeks ago:
ME: The Man Seat. Your turn.
HIM: Cowgirl
ME: Doggy style
HIM: Lap Dance
ME: Spoon
HIM: Shoulder holder
ME: The handy man
HIM: What’s that one?
ME: Man seat, but do it on the washing machine with a good spin cycle going on.
HIM: Holy shit. You’ve done that?
ME: No, but I’ve always wanted to. Lack of private available washing machine. You know, I’ve heard of phone sex, but not email sex.
HIM: Getting a little heated?
ME: Yes. You?
HIM: Definitely. Can’t talk now, ordering a washing machine.
Joe had obviously fibbed about only doing a few days of work with his dad and a couple of shifts at the Dive Bar each week. It soon became apparent that the guy bordered on being a workaholic. If I hadn’t been in town, he probably would have been renovating the soon-to-be studio apartments whenever he wasn’t serving drinks downstairs. With something to prove to his father now too, I doubt I could have kept him away from the place if I tried—and I didn’t.
No one else seemed surprised to find us there at it again come Monday.
Joe and Andre got busy spreading sealant around, getting the kitchen and bathroom spaces ready for tiling and cabinetry installation. Andre, as the owner of the building, was every bit as committed to the renovations as Joe was. Meanwhile, I ripped out what remained of the old fittings in the last room down the hall.
Funnily enough, destroying things continued to make me happy. A certain kind of satisfaction could be found in emptying a room of all its detritus. Clearing out the old and ushering in the new. It might have been symbolic of my life, or it might have just been my underlying violent tendencies. I don’t know.
Despite our sleazy sex plans, we were talked into attending a nighttime gathering at Lydia and Vaughan’s. Pizza and beer were on the schedule. The happy couple lived in a bungalow not far from Joe’s folks’ place.
On our way over, I thought about how despite my dislike of the outdoors I couldn’t get enough of all the trees in Coeur d’Alene. The greenery both blew my mind and soothed it. Seattle was great, but this was different, less crowded and more peaceful. With Joe beside me, a lot of my fears faded. But more than that, some stronger part of me woke up. Coming to this place, meeting Joe, it had all helped to wake me up.
I loved the feeling I got, leaning my forehead against the cool glass of Joe’s passenger-side window, gazing up at the greenery and the mountains in the distance. Taking in the colors of the sky as the sun sank low. I’d been focused on being hidden, staying inside for so long. It was like I was looking out at the world for the first time in years, and the view was dazzling.
Maybe my days of being a recluse were done.
Lydia, the blond bombshell, opened the door and welcomed us with, “Boys are out back at the fire pit, girls inside.”
“It’s tradition,” explained Joe, giving the nape of my neck a gentle squeeze before ambling off to be with his bros.
“Oh.” Nervousness stirred inside me—I hadn’t spent any real time alone with his friends before. Never mind, I’d be fine. Of course I would be. “Okay.”
“Down with penises.” A smiling Nell heckled Joe from a big old leather couch. “Boo.”
“You’re the worst,” said Rosie. “Get outside.”
Oddly enough, Joe seemed unperturbed. “Ladies.”
“Let’s get you a drink,” said Lydia with a light touch on my elbow.
I followed her through the open-style lounge and dining room, into the kitchen area, just as Joe slipped out the door. A glass door led out onto a back patio, flickering flames and the soft sounds of a couple acoustic guitars floating in from beyond. Vaughan, Andre, and Pat were already gathered outside around the fire pit.
“Wine, beer, juice, or water?” asked Lydia.
“Beer, thank you.”