The temperature gauge reads hot as fuck, so I pull my shirt off. I grab the hose and turn it on. After the water that’s been heating up in the hose runs out and the cool water flows, I run it over my head.
Spike prances around the yard, running through the stream of water I spray over him. He barks and jumps, biting at the jetting liquid.
“You crazy dog, you can’t catch the water.” I swear he makes me smile every day. Wonder if I could write his feed and vet bills off as mental healthcare costs.
After a few minutes, I twist the nozzle at the end of the hose to shut off the water.
Spike stops and cocks his head to the side as though to say why for you stop the play?
“Sorry, Boy. I need to get back to work.” I turn my cap backward.
A minute later, he nudges my shin with his ball, dropping it on my foot.
“No. It’s not playtime. You go lie in the shade. I’ve got shit to do.”
His brows draw together as his big, brown eyes beg me to throw the ball. His gaze follows my hands as I stretch, holding the pickaxe high in the air. It’s as though he thinks it must be a giant stick I’m going to hurl across the yard for him to chase.
I slip my work gloves on and take position for my first swing at the broken and cracked brick wall that hasn’t actually protected the contents of this shed for several years. A ball pressed to the back of my calf stops me. I shoulder the axe.
“Spike. I don’t want to hit you with this thing. I’m certain it will win if it comes down to the two of you.”
He lets out a low whine past the yellow tennis ball held firmly between his slightly crooked teeth.
“Being cute won’t win you playtime right now. It’s getting hotter out here every second, so scoot.” I wedge the toe of my boot under his rump and give him a little push.
He jumps up and lumbers across the yard, tossing sad glances over his shoulder as he goes.
I attack the shed with all the energy I would use to fuck Kelsey if I’d give myself the chance. I won’t, of course, but if I could, I’d do it right. Hard and deep.
Three long days have passed since I tasted her sweet pussy, and I’ve had a craving for more unlike anything I’ve experienced in the past. I’ve done every hard labor job I can think of on this stinking house, and still my dick stays erect from morning to night.
Every night, I dream of her. With her knees spread wide and that pink bit of heaven open to me, like a flower waiting for the sun. Wet with the dew, smelling beautiful, and tasting like the sweetest ambrosia, she waits for me, a mischievous smile on her face and a sparkle in those blue eyes.
And every day, I wake with my dick straight as a fucking board and harder than the head on this pickaxe.
That first morning, I took a frigid shower right off the bat. But as the day went on, sneaky little thoughts of her crept in, and before long, I had a woody that would make a great oak proud. Yesterday, I went straight to work, tearing the brick that needed replacing off the side of the garage. I’d just about managed to get my shit calmed down when she came outside to check her mail. Her shorts hugged that ass, and the frayed edges of the jeans feathered across her thighs as she moved. Even though her pussy was covered, my memory easily filled in the blanks, and my erection was instantly harder than ever.
So today, I’m working in the back of the house. A nice, tall fence stands between me and any possible sighting of Kelsey, Kelsey’s ass, Kelsey’s legs, and, most importantly, Kelsey’s sweet spot.
Back in the hospital, if someone had told me I’d avoid getting a stiffy, I’d have laughed in their fucking face.
Now? Not so much.
Every swing of the pickaxe ends with a crack in the brick and a jolt to my arms that travels all the way through my spine. Sweat races down my back and over my chest. I drop the tool and run my forearm across my brow to stem the flow of salt dripping into my eyes.
Something presses the side of my knee.
Spike leans on me, the top of his skull against my leg. I step aside, and he whips his head up. This time, two tennis balls perch in his wide mouth. His jowls drape over them on either side of what is surely a smile, even if some would say dogs aren’t capable of such a thing. His eyebrows rise as though he’s convinced that this time, I will definitely throw one or both of his prized possessions.
My aching arms complain with each movement. “Not now, buddy.”
He looks up at me, his expressive eyes saying everything his too-full mouth couldn’t—even if he tried. You no love me?
“Oh, stop. You act like you never get to play. Now shoo. I’ve got work to do.”
Head down, he drags himself off to the other side of the yard, where he drops both slimed balls. Then he pounces between them, plucking one from the grass and tossing it over his own shoulder. It bounces off the fence, and he chases after it. He does this again and again.
At least he’s smart enough to know how to entertain himself.
I get back to work.
Ten minutes later, an insistent whine halts my progress.
Spike has his ass in the air and his nose under the edge of the fence on Kelsey’s side of the yard. He furiously digs, all the while whining like he’s lost his best friend. Since I’m his best friend, I know that isn’t the case.
I clap once. “Hey. What’re you doin’, Goofball?”
He pops up and sprints around the yard a full circle before coming to stop at my side. He paws at my foot, and then runs back to the beginnings of his escape hatch. He shoves his muzzle into the dirt and lets out a high-pitched sound designed to convey his unhappiness with—well, whatever it is he thinks is wrong.
At the fence, I squat. “Nice looking hole you’ve dug there, young man.”
He pulls out of the gap under the fence and licks my ear. I push him away and survey the damage.
Wait. Something’s missing.
His tennis balls.
I check around in the bushes nearby and the rest of the yard.
I pat the top of his broad head. “You went and threw your balls over the fence, didn’t you?”
He barks.
“Oh, all right. I’ll see if we can get them back. But you have to stop digging holes under people’s fences. That shit ain’t gonna fly. You hear me?”
His bobbed tail twitches, and his butt wiggles as though he understands exactly what I’m saying to him. His eyes answer with a yeah yeah, person. I promise I’ll leave the dirt alone, just get my balls back.
I let myself out of the side gate, Spike bouncing along beside me.
As I approach Kelsey’s front door, a metallic clink comes from the garage.
I lean against the open door to what appears to be her garage-turned-weight room. She lay flat-backed on a bench, one foot on either side, her crotch staring at me as she does dumbbell butterflies.
Fuck me. And here we go—again.
My jeans strain over my engorged erection.
I cough just loudly enough to let her know I’m here.
She sits bolt upright, her cheeks flushed, sweat beading on her upper lip, her hair up in a pony-tail-braid-thingy that hangs almost to her waist.
“Hey, Beautiful Girl.”
Kelsey frowns and runs a small towel across her face. “What do you want?”
Spike dances his ass over to her side, slathering her elbow with puppy kisses.
She grips his big head between her hands, grabbing his ears.
Oh shit. She’s got him now, and he has no idea how pissed she was about that chicken.
She pulls his face close to hers, her eyes narrowed.
My gut clenches.
She hates my freaking dog.
“You are so lucky I like dogs more than chickens.” Kelsey’s voice is deep and playful, even though she’s obviously trying to look serious.
The tension gathering in my chest eases.
Now, if I could get the tightness in my pants to let up, that’d be something.
Spike’s tongue slips out and slides
up the side of her face.
She pulls back, her nose wrinkling.
“Ew. Thanks, Spike—I think.” Her gaze meets mine, and blue eyes flash. “So? What do you want?”
I nod toward Spike. “He lost his balls and asked me to help him get them back.”
Her left eyebrow quirks. “Oh? I’m not so sure the vet gives refunds.”
I grin. “No, he tossed them over the fence into your backyard.”
“And he asked you to help?”
“He sure did. He was quite specific in letting me know that you have his balls, and he very much wants them back.”
She pushes her hands over the top of Spike’s head.
“You lost your balls, eh, Kiddo?” Kelsey looks straight at me. “Well, that seems to be a common occurrence around these parts lately.”
My jaw tightens. I push off the wall I’ve been leaning against, which will probably make my condition that much more obvious.
Good.
“I didn’t lose anything. If you happen to be referring to the other day when you got off and creamed all over my tongue, you’re welcome.”
“No. I was commenting on when you walked out right afterward. Who does that?”
“I guess I do.”
She wipes the back of her neck with her towel as she comes toward me.
“And you do this often? Pleasure women, solely for their edification, and then walk away?” She stops a few inches from me, the sprinkle of freckles across her nose somehow hardening my cock even more. “And you do this as though you just carried their groceries for them or maybe moved a heavy piece of furniture around their living room?”
An almost overwhelming urge to haul her inside and fuck her until she can’t walk and I can’t think hovers at the brink of action.
I prop my hands at my waist, hooking my thumbs into my belt loops to keep from grabbing for her. “And why, in your opinion, is this a bad thing?”
She glances down and then up again, her eyes alight with that same mischievous expression she’s worn in my dreams. “It’s not nice to rob someone else of the satisfaction of giving pleasure.”
My pulse steps it up a notch.
She walks her fingertips from my collarbone over my left pec. “See? Sometimes, half the fulfillment is in giving, not just taking.”
My mouth waters. I swallow hard.
Her touch follows the line down the middle of my abs, making the muscles jump as she closes in on the button of my jeans. “Looks like your cock wants to get in on the action.”
This woman. Fuck.
Kelsey curls her fingers into the waistband of my pants, grazing the sensitive head of my erection.
I bite the corner of my lip and groan.
She lifts one eyebrow and yanks me closer. “Too bad we’re both so dirty, or it might get some.”
Suddenly, any reason I had for not fucking this girl is clouded in lust.
Why shouldn’t I have her? She’s here and practically has her hand in my fucking pants.
Screw this shit. A man can only handle so much.
I reach for her, dragging her to my chest. My mouth finds hers, and my hands cup her ass.
She wraps her legs around me, her pussy pressing against my hard-on through our clothes. Her lips are as soft as silk as her tongue slides against mine, and her arms hold tight to my shoulders.
I manage to find the way into the house.
Thank God. There’s a bathroom right across from the garage door.
My hard-on strains to get out of the constricting jeans.
I sweep aside the shower curtain, and she unwinds her legs from around me. Without breaking the kiss, I reach in and turn the knobs.
Kelsey steps back and grabs the hem of her tank top, ripping it over her head.
I smooth my hands down her ribs, over the satin skin of her sides. Then I slide my thumbs up under the elastic of her sports bra, freeing her tits when I pull it off.
My groin tightens again.
She pulls me down to her, latching on to my bottom lip and nipping it with the perfect amount of pressure to send the sensation straight to my dick, while her fingers work the snap and zipper of my pants.
I step back, trying to kick off my boots.
Shit. Laces.
Kelsey grins and leans down, quickly working the double knots loose so I can shed the shoes. She’s on her knees, the top of her head under my hand, her silky hair a little damp from her workout.
Her tongue darts out and wets her lips as she pushes the edge of my waistband down. “Let’s see wh—”
Panic strikes.
I grab her hands and push away from her. “No. Let’s not.”
Her flirty smile fades as confusion takes its place.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’ve not let a woman really see the damage wrought by the IED and the hell that rained on me and my buddies for the seven or so minutes afterward. I’ve been with a shit-ton of girls, trying to figure out how to get past this issue I have, but it’s usually more of a slam-bam, you’re welcome, ma’am type thing, than anything like this. I keep their eyes focused on my face while I fuck them raw. When they’ve had enough, I bow out with a grin.
Fix this. Fix it now.
“I’d rather kiss you as I drive into that sweet pussy.” I pull her to my chest, wrapping my arms tight around her.
She narrows her eyes and stares into mine for a moment. “So you’re not at all interested in me sucking your cock?”
Kelsey runs the tip of her tongue along those lips, pink and soft and utterly fuckable.
My erection twitches, and I let out a slow breath.
Shit.
She’s going to see right through me.
She’s going to know I’m not right.
She’s going to freak the fuck out.
I lean in and lay my mouth over hers, plunging my tongue in as I slip my hands down her spine and into her pants, grabbing hold of two handfuls of ass. I grind my erection against her pelvic bone.
The bathroom is steaming up pretty good.
Maybe I can use this.
My buddy, Shulls, would’ve made this work—I can make this work.
I let go of her mouth and spin her around so her back is to me, my hands steadying her at her waist.
She gasps. “Wow. That was smoothly executed.”
“What can I say? I’m experienced.”
I strip off her shorts and trail kisses from her nape, down her spine, and over to her hip as I gently urge her into the shower.
She giggles, shaking her ass as she steps into the water. “Your beard tickles.”
I shed my jeans and follow her, pulling her against me, letting my hard-on push against her lower back.
If I can just keep her looking anywhere except at my scarred-up dick, I’m golden.
I grab the soap and the girly spongy thing hanging from the hook. I lather her up, making sure to slip my fingers between her legs, tickling her clit as I rub her pussy.
After I soap up my cock, I pushing it between her ass cheeks, letting is slip and slide in her crevices. “Fuck, you feel good.”
Her eyes meet mine over her shoulder, her smile almost shy. “Thank you. You don’t feel so bad yourself.”
I graze the side of her neck with my teeth, and she moans. Sliding my hands over her wet breasts, I twist her nipples just a tad as I squeeze—
A bang echoes through the shower.
Kelsey pulls away, and we freeze, listening and waiting for—
A tiny, black tornado crashes in and circles our feet with a yowl.
“What the fuck?” I say.
The shower curtain pushes in on us and breaks loose from its hooks with rapid-fire pops as Spike joins the party, landing on his side in a heap of blue plastic.
Claws dig into the back of my leg. “Fuck. Ouch.”
I turn in a circle, trying to grab the little terrorist, but I can’t reach where she’s hooked into the skin on my back. “Get it off.”
Spike finds h
is feet, bright eyed with his lolling tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth.
I manage to knock him away before he licks the crack of my ass. “No. Bad dog. No.”
Kelsey’s mouth falls open for a moment.
“He’s scaring Chloe.” She reaches for Spike, but he dodges her as he bounces off the wall in his excitement at the surprise water park.
The cat claws her way to my shoulder.
“He just wants to play.” The curtain tangles around my feet as I try to side-step Spike’s celebration.
Kelsey unsuccessfully attempts to throw herself onto the mutt, but she’s knocked against the wall where she slips with a strangled yelp, falling in a flurry of bouncing tits and flailing arms and legs.
It’s a fucking Chinese fire drill in a six by six cube.
A wet one. A slick one.
A veritable death trap of a slippery-slide-in-a-box.
Though he’s still a pup, his happy barking and jumping as he tries to bite the water coming from the showerhead get his teeth much too close to my junk.
“Oh hell no. I’ve got enough problems.” I tackle the wet mutt.
I lie across eighty pounds of muscle flopping around like a giant tuna on the deck of a fishing boat. The cat skitters across the bare skin of my ass cheek, using her claws to gain speed as she escapes the bathroom and what she probably thinks is certain death.
FIVE
A big, well built and naked man bear hugs a dripping hound on my floor. His back and leg, not to mention his ass cheeks, are bleeding. My bathroom is in shambles, and it’s very likely that part—or all—of the rest of my house is too…and the only thing I’m capable of doing is giggling.
Getting laid has never been so harrowing before.
I cover my face as Adam frowns.
“What are you laughing at? He almost accidentally took the rest of my pecker off with those damned teeth, trying to bite water of all things.”
That pulls me up short. “The rest of?”
Adam’s eyes widen for a second before closing as he sighs and shakes his head. “Never mind. Forget I said that. Can you please grab a leash? There’s one hanging on the hook right inside my front entry. I need to drag him home before he tears your house down.”
So Long: Bad Boy Next Door Page 4