by Lacey Black
“Well, that sucks,” Dustin mumbles, using his walker to head to the closet to retrieve his coat. He hands me mine, my brain running a million miles a second as I try to make a plan. A list of all the things I need to grab, especially if we won’t be back home for a handful of days. Plus, there’s a bit more of a commute with staying at a hotel. There are two in town, but both are on the opposite end, closer to the highway.
I turn to Jasper, ready to thank him for a lovely evening, when he stops me in my tracks with his offer. “Stay here.”
I gasp, clearly hearing things. “What?”
“Yeah, why don’t you stay here? I have plenty of room. There’s the guest room upstairs and a foldout couch in my office. Hell, I’d even give you my bed and take the pull-out,” Jasper insists. “You’ll have plenty of space here, and your own bathrooms. You won’t even know I’m here.”
I almost snort.
Fat chance of that.
“I don’t know,” I argue, but unable to continue.
“Really, Lyndee, it’s no problem. I’ll be working late most nights and you get up early for work. We probably won’t even see each other.” Then he goes in for the kill. “Plus, who wants to be in a hotel room for Christmas?”
I sigh, feeling my resolve fly straight out the window. With his work schedule and mine, there’s actually a good chance we’ll barely see each other. We’ll be like two ships passing in the night, which might not be too bad. Then I’m less likely to act on the kiss replays that keep running through my mind.
“And it would be kinda cool to hang out with Dustin too,” he adds, hitting me with a final bullet to the heart.
I glance at my brother, whose eyes are full of excitement and pleading. He’s practically begging me without even saying a word.
This is a bad idea.
I can feel it.
Yet, it really is the best option for us.
“Okay. We’ll stay here.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jasper
She’s been gone for thirty minutes, and I can’t stop pacing. I offered to go with her to her condo, but she refused. Instead, I stayed behind and make sure the guest bedroom was ready for an occupant, and that my office bed was loaded up with extra blankets so you don’t feel those uncomfortable bars across your body.
No, it’s not ideal, but it’ll work.
Even if I have to sleep on it.
I see the headlights from her car streak across the front window and hurry to the garage to open the second bay. At least while she’s here, she can park inside, right? There’s a hesitation once the door is open, but eventually she pulls in. I meet her at the driver’s side and notice the back of her car is packed with bags. “Let me help.”
I start pulling bags from the back seat but notice right away how tired Dustin looks. He’s not moving nearly as well as he was earlier, which tells me he’s overdone it for the day. I remember Lyndee talking about him using his wheelchair when he gets exhausted, and it looks like his strength is depleting right before my eyes. “Hey, Dustin, I got this stuff. Why don’t you head into the kitchen while I bring it in,” I suggest.
He looks as if he wants to argue, but there’s no fight left in him. “Yeah, okay. Do you mind if I grab a bottle of water? I need to take my medicine.”
“You don’t have to ask my permission. If it’s there, you’re welcome to it,” I tell him, watching as he limps with his walker toward the doorway between the garage and the mudroom.
“It’s been a long day for him,” Lyndee whispers when her brother is out of earshot. “Thank you for that.”
“It’s no problem. I’m happy to help,” I reply, grabbing the rest of the stuff from the back seat. “How bad’s the damage?”
She sighs. “Not horrible, but the floor was still wet in the bathroom, and you can tell the drywall is bubbling out on the wall between the two condos. Mr. James said it’s all going to come out tomorrow to make sure it dries. He’s still hoping for five to seven days, but I’m not sure. Poor Mrs. Anderson will be out even longer, but fortunately, she has a daughter she can stay with for a few weeks. I don’t want to overstay our welcome, Jasper. We can go to a hotel for a few days,” she frets nervously.
“I’ve already told you, sweets. Not necessary. You’re both welcome here as long as you need to be,” I insist, carrying the bags toward the mudroom.
“You may say that now, but maybe not so much when you find me dancing in the kitchen to Aerosmith, with flour covering every conceivable surface,” she states with a laugh, following me into the house.
As I step through the doorway, I pause and glance over my shoulder. “Aerosmith? What song?”
“’Love In An Elevator,’ of course.” She winks and steps around me, her hair brushing against my arm and the sweet scent of sugar surrounds me like a blanket.
I’m so hard right now I can barely see straight.
When all their belongings are in the house, I make sure the garage is locked up and return to the kitchen. “I’m more than willing to let one of you take my bed. I changed the sheets while you were gone.”
“Actually, I’d rather stay down here,” Dustin states from his position at the island counter. “I don’t like stairs on a good day, but I definitely don’t want to try them tonight when I’m so tired.”
“That sleeper sofa probably isn’t the most comfortable,” I quickly remind him. “It has an upgraded mattress and I have a thick Posturepedic pad on top which helps, but it’s still not great.”
He waves off my concern. “I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve slept on a couch,” he replies with a shrug.
“Well, if you insist. I really don’t mind taking the downstairs couch though.”
“And I appreciate that,” Dustin says, glancing to his sister. “I’m going to head off to bed. Tomorrow morning’s gonna come early.”
“Let me help you get your things in there,” she responds, hurrying to the big pile of belongings on the floor.
“This way.” I wave to Dustin, standing beside him, ready to help if needed.
I show him the half-bath in the office, never more grateful for that small toilet and sink than I am right now. “The full bathroom is directly across the hall. You’re the only one to use that shower, so feel free to keep anything you need in there.”
Dustin walks to the wingback chair and takes a seat as his sister brings in his bags. “This is a great room,” he says, glancing around.
“I barely use it, honestly. Most of my work is done in the kitchen, not an office. What time do you have to go in?” I ask, looking from brother to sister.
Lyndee yawns. “I did a lot of my prepping today while we were closed, but I’ll still need to be there by four thirty.”
“What about you?” I ask, my gaze on Dustin.
“I’ll need to go with Lyndee. She’s my ride.”
“What if I take you a little later so you can sleep in a bit? Do you have to be there so early too?”
The exchange a look. “No, he doesn’t, but I can’t ask you to do that,” she says.
“You didn’t ask. I offered.”
She doesn’t reply right away, just helps put some of her brother’s things in the small half bath, but I can tell she’s thinking. She’s probably used to doing a lot of this by herself. Since her mom passed, she’s been the caregiver to her brother. To be honest, I respect the hell out of her for it, for taking on this extra task of making sure he has exactly what he needs in this life.
I just want to help alleviate the load just a bit.
That doesn’t scare me as much as I always thought it would.
I’m a selfish man, always have been. Thinking of others isn’t exactly my strong suit. I’m a complete dick to boot, which puts me solidly in the asshole category. I know this. Sometimes even embrace it. It’s who I am.
Yet here I am, ready to do whatever I can, and not only for Lyndee, but Dustin too. I really like spending time with him, so hanging out a little bit before
work tomorrow isn’t going to be a hardship. Especially if it helps him get a little more rest before he goes to work.
She rejoins us in the office. “Thank you. If you don’t mind bringing him to the bakery in the morning, I would appreciate it.” A whole heap of emotions passes through her eyes. Appreciation for sure, but also resignation and maybe weariness. She knows she needs the help, even if it’s hard to admit.
“What time do you want him there?” I ask, forcing myself to stand where I am and not pull her into my arms.
“Is seven too early? That way he’ll be there to help with the morning rush that usually hits around seven thirty.”
“Seven is fine.”
“But if you’re not heading into work at that time, it can be later. Whatever’s easiest for you.”
“Lyndee.” When she looks up, I continue. “It’s fine. I’ll have him there at seven. There’s plenty of stuff for me to do at work before I start prepping for lunch.”
She nods. “Thank you.” Once everything is in place, she looks to her brother. “We’ll let you get ready for bed. If you need anything, holler. Or text. I’ll have my phone with me.”
Her brother just rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine, sis, but thank you. See you both in the morning.” Dustin heads for the bathroom with a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.
Lyndee and I slip out of the office, carefully shutting the door behind us as we go. “Let’s get your things upstairs.”
I’m able to carry her bags, leading the way up to the second floor. “The guest room is here, but you’re more than welcome to take my room. The bed is much bigger and a hell of a lot more comfortable.”
“This is fine,” she insists, setting her purse down on the full-sized bed. “I just appreciate having a place to stay.”
I deposit her belongings onto the floor beside the dresser. “There’s a Jack and Jill bathroom through there,” I add, pointing to the open door, “And you’re welcome to use the dresser. There should be plenty of space in the closet too. Though, I’m not sure what might be in there.” I run my hands through my hair, feeling a bit off-kilter. What is it about this woman that gets under my skin? Makes me all antsy and anxious.
I’m not even sure when she moved, but the next thing I know, she’s standing directly in front of me. She reaches out and places a small hand on my arm. I almost jump from the shocks of electricity, but make sure to hold completely still as to not dislodge her touch. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate it more than you know.”
I clear my dry throat. “You’re welcome. I’m happy to help, Lyndee.”
She tosses a small smile my way like a grenade. I’m not prepared for the effect it has on me. My heart starts to hammer in my chest and things start to stir to life in my pants. It’s not just an attraction I feel, but something headier. Deeper.
“Well, I’ll let you get to it. Good night,” I say, backing away and running into the dresser.
Smooth, Jasper.
“Night,” she murmurs, watching as I practically stumble out of the guest room and make a beeline for my bedroom down the hall. My space takes up the entire back side of the home, with the smaller two bedrooms and the Jack and Jill bathroom on the other. While the door for the gym in the other upstairs bedroom is closer to my door, I’ve never felt her presence this near before.
Even with my bedroom door closed and locked.
It’s like my body knows she’s just a few walls away, calling out and drawing me in.
I opt for a quick shower instead of going over and fucking her. Let’s be honest. That’s exactly what I’d prefer to do, but that’s not what’s going to happen here. She’s a friend. She and her brother needed help, and I offered. Who cares if it’s the first time I’ve ever really done that. My point is I’m being nice, and the last thing either of us needs right now is to complicate things with sex.
Oh, but doesn’t that sound like the best night ever.
Throwing open my closet door with a little extra force, I gather some shorts to put on after my shower. I usually sleep naked, but I don’t think this is the time to be free-balling in bed when Lyndee Gibson is just a few thin walls away. It’s going to be hard enough—pun intended—to keep my hands to myself, especially when I keep replaying that kiss over and over again. The last thing I need is to give my cock any ideas.
Shower. Bed. Sleep.
Nowhere in that equation should I be thinking about kissing Lyndee.
Should be easy enough.
***
I’ve been tossing and turning for a good hour.
Glancing at the clock for the hundredth time, I notice it’s just after midnight. I was able to steal a little sleep, but now my insomnia is wide awake and refusing to let me settle. I reached the point thirty minutes ago where I would have gotten up, but with houseguests, the last thing I need is to be banging around in the kitchen. Dustin was exhausted when he went to bed, and I refuse to be the asshole who wakes him up.
I throw my comforter off, hating the way the shorts restrict my movements. Okay, they really don’t, but when you’re used to not wearing them to bed, they feel stifling when you do wear them.
I start to pace, willing my mind to settle and sleep to return, knowing it’s completely futile at this point. I flip on the TV, making sure the volume is down low. A documentary on Michael Jordan is playing, but I’ve already seen it. Even so, I still try to focus on the basketball legend’s career, only to find I can’t concentrate. Television has never been my thing.
Cooking, yes.
Working out, sure.
Sex, absolutely.
Since the first and last on that list aren’t an option, I guess I can slip over to my home gym and try to run myself into exhaustion. That’s still no guarantee I’ll be able to sleep, but maybe it’ll help.
I forego throwing on a T-shirt and grab socks, running shoes, and my earbuds. I won’t be able to do much, in hopes of keeping the noise down, especially with Lyndee sleeping just a short distance away.
Quietly, I tiptoe across the hall, stopping to make sure I haven’t disturbed anyone. When I’m met with silence, I slip inside, shut the door, and bathe the room in light. Then, I get to work. As soon as my shoes are on and my buds are in my ears, I do a few stretches and hit the treadmill. I set a demanding pace, letting Mötley Crüe fuel my drive. I blow through one mile, then two, and quickly three. Sweat soaks my body, running down my face and blurring my vision. Even then, I keep going.
One grueling hour later, I finally slow the machine, praying my legs have enough strength to carry me back to my bedroom. I chug a bottle of water from the mini fridge and do one final stretch, making sure my quads and hammies are loose.
I’m on the floor, my legs spread wide as I grab my toes when movement catches out of the corner of my eye. I glance over and find Lyndee standing in the doorway of the bathroom, her wide eyes glued to my chest. “Lyndee?” I ask, whipping out my earbuds. “Is everything okay?”
“Huh?” she asks, her eyes dropping to my legs.
I can’t help but take in her own appearance. Her hair is mussed, her face void of any makeup, a T-shirt, and the cutest fuzzy lounge pants with Christmas presents all down her legs. She’s positively adorable.
And so fucking sexy.
I can’t help but grin. She has yet to look up at my face. “I asked if everything was all right.”
Finally, my words seem to register and her deer in the headlight expression meets mine. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Fine. All…good.” Her eyes flash quickly down to my chest once more before settling on my eyes.
“Okay,” I start, hoping she’ll finish. Then it hits me. “Did I wake you?”
“I couldn’t figure out what the sound was. I laid there for a few minutes and listened to the low hum and pounding. Was that you running? Are you training for a marathon?”
I snort, carefully getting to my feet on wobbly legs. “No, I actually hate running.”
“But you do it because of your insomnia,”
she surmises.
I nod and stretch my arms over my head, her gorgeous brown eyes slowly dropping to take in my movement. I’m helpless against their power as they pool with dark desire and desperation. A desperation that lands squarely in my balls, causing all of my blood to pool in one concentrated area. Before I can even try to reason with myself, I’m moving.
Toward her.
Threading my fingers in her hair.
Claiming her lips with my own.
Nothing this wrong has ever felt so right.
Chapter Eighteen
Lyndee
When Jasper’s demanding lips meet mine, I’m helpless against them. He coaxes my mouth open, his tongue claiming my mouth with fervor and need. His chest is soaked with sweat, but I don’t care. Jasper without a shirt on is a masterpiece. A work of art. The most amazing thing I’ve ever had my hands on.
My nails claw at his flesh, trying to get him as close as possible. I can feel his erection pressing firmly against my stomach, hard and long. My core clenches and aches with a need that he seems to evoke from my soul.
He gently moves me back until I’m pressed against the door, and then he devours, gently lifting me against the hard wood and stepping into the apex of my legs. My ankles lock behind his back and my hands around his shoulders lining us up intimately. I grip at his hair, raking my short nails across his scalp and drawing a hiss out of his mouth. Jasper thrusts forward, his hardness rubbing at the exact spot I need.
I cry out, throwing my head back against the door. He takes the opportunity to nip at my neck before replacing his teeth with his tongue. It’s a delicious pain that only seems to make me wetter. At this point, my panties are drenched, and I’m sure he can feel it soaking through my thick flannel pants.
But I don’t care.
I need…more.
“Fuck, why is it I feel so completely reckless and helpless at the exact same time when I’m around you?” he whispers, sliding his lips across my skin, the roughness of his stubble causing goosebumps on my entire body.
I try to reply, but no words come out. I can’t think. I can barely breathe. All I want is for Jasper to relieve the ache that’s consuming my entire being. Since the first time I saw him standing in my kitchen, it’s been building, steadily growing inside of me like a living entity, waiting idly for Jasper to come and unleash it.