DILF DIARIES_Oh Baby

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Also by SSK

  Where to find SSK

  Acknowledgements

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  About SSK

  What to read next...

  COPYRIGHT © 2018

  Stephanie St. Klaire

  DILF DIARIES: Oh Baby

  Book One in the DILF DIARIES Series

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, or other status is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever known, not known or hereafter invented, or stored in any storage or retrieval system, is forbidden and punishable by the fullest extent of the law without written permission of the author.

  EDITOR: Monica Black – Word Nerd Edits

  COVER ARTIST: Alyssa Garcia – Uplifting Designs

  FORMATTING: The SSK Group

  Also by Stephanie St. Klaire

  DILF DIARIES

  DILF DIARIES: Oh Baby

  McKenzie Ridge Series

  Rescued

  Hidden

  Forgotten

  Fearless

  Redemption

  Brother’s Keeper Series

  Brother’s Keeper I: Declan

  Brother’s Keeper II: Liam

  Brother’s Keeper III: Luke – Spring 2018

  Brother’s Keeper IV: Dace – Fall 2018

  Brother’s Keeper V: Wylie - 2019

  Kindle Worlds

  Liar

  Sneaking Up On Love

  Fall Fling

  Visit Stephanie St. Klaire on social media for the latest news and updates:

  Join Stephanie’s private Facebook group: SSK Book Krew

  ACKNOWLEGEMENTS

  For my fantastic readers…

  I hope you giggle and swoon.

  Maybe shoot water out of your nose.

  But most of all, I hope you fall for the DILF.

  Love all your faces!

  Chapter 1

  “Someone’s car alarm is going off!” Jack yelled over the music. “Wait, make that two car alarms. Hurry up before my neighbor gets pissed — again.”

  The only thing better than hot summer nights were hot summer barbeques at Jack’s house with the best meat in town. Firefighters, cops, and paramedics. First responders? Yes, please!

  “Who would be dumb enough to try to break into cars here? Everyone knows this is your place and chances are those cars belong to cops and firefighters,” Jack’s best friend, Officer Felix Munoz, added. “Dude, there are more going off now. What the hell, you getting pranked?”

  Jack shrugged. Nothing seemed to bother him. He was as laid back and cool as they came. “It’s summer, man. Probably just a bunch of bored kids.”

  With a little more urgency in his step, Jack went through the house and opened his front door. A pile of partygoers behind him, he grinned ear to ear. He wanted to stop the noise before the warden next door started complaining about city ordinance and general decency as it related to respecting other people’s peace and quiet.

  Too late. Standing in his yard, tight fists propped on half-cocked hips and a heated glare that could melt ice was his five-foot-nothin’ blonde neighbor — and it appeared she brought her whole pissed off attitude with her. Great, he thought, this ought to be good. He crossed his arms and leaned against the porch railing as people piled out behind him, clicking their keychain remotes to mute the noise.

  Firefighter Jack Decker was an all-around decent guy — a local hero, a good friend to all, the town playboy, and a total freaking panty-melter. Women set their lawns on fire and stuck their neighbors’ cats in trees just to call him for help and get a look at his…hose. Jack Decker, known as Jack “The Pecker” Decker, wasn’t just Portland’s most eligible bachelor, he was also the most desirable too. To every woman in town — except his next door neighbor. Juliet Walker was a rule abider — emergency room nurse, local hard-ass, hero in her own right, kind to most, and the only woman in town immune to Jack’s swelling…charm.

  “You do this?” he asked the fuming blonde, anxious to push her buttons.

  “Well, I tried knocking on the door. Twice,” she sassed. “Even hollered over the fence, but darn it, your party was just a little too loud.” She turned and looked at all the cars lining the streets, silencing them one by one. “You left me no choice.”

  He chuckled at the sickening sweet tone, shrugged shoulders, and the way she tossed her hands in the air in defeat. Condescending much? This is the shit he enjoyed most about living next door to a feisty firecracker.

  “Too loud, huh?” He cupped his chin, rubbing his day-old scruff. “Huh.”

  “Yeah,” she replied, sarcasm slipping into her sugary tone. “See, I just spent a fourteen-hour day, you know, saving lives and stuff. I would like just a little sleep before I have to do it all over again. Can you cut the music down?” She pinched her fingers together, indicating a little bit, while squinting one eye for good measure.

  He didn’t buy the nice act. He knew she was just being an asshole, but that’s what he liked most about her. “I’m sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t think it was that loud.” Two can play at this game. He snickered. “See, I couldn’t hear the music at all over all the talking going on back there.”

  Juliet’s posture stiffened at his mocking jab. Her tongue swiped her teeth just before they clenched, her lips puckered. That was new. “Look, just turn down the damn frat party. Mmmkay?”

  Her tone was pitchy, her head rolled, and Jack was sure he saw her eye twitch. This was getting good. “Frat party? Oh, we’re not all frat boys, just a bunch of Portland’s finest first responders, ma’am.”

  “Lord help our city if this is its finest,” she fired back without hesitation.

  Two girls in bikinis walked out, stumbling as they did, catching Jack’s shoulder.

  “Oh, good! The strippers are here! I won’t keep you.” Juliet rolled her eyes in disgust. This guy was a pig.

  The car alarms had been shut off since the banter began, but the chesty brunette in the barely-there bikini next to Jack decided to click her button anyway, sounding her alarm and seeming pleased with herself. When she started to dance to the sound of honking sirens, using Jack as her pole, Juliet’s jaw dropped. “Tell me she’s kidding with that car alarm. She doesn’t seriously think it’s music, does she?”

  “Oh, Frenchie Bosom here is very serious. She’s a professional. It’s all music to her.” Truth be told, Jack didn’t know her, or what her name was. Hell, she may have been a pre-school teacher for all he knew, but stripper sounded better, so he rolled with it.

  Juliet shook her head, caught off guard. She was really a stripper? “Frenchie…Bosom?”

  “Well, that’s her stripper name. Or…” Jack looked at the two women next to him, finger to his chin as if he was deciphering something, “maybe that one’s Bambi. Bambi Boom Boom. They’re twins.” He winked.

  “Oh, wow…this is…really happening.” Running her hands down her face in disbelief, Juliet’s eyes widened and steam all but came out her ears. “It’s not music, sweetie, it’s your alarm. Your car alarm.”


  “Huh?” the brunette, Frenchie, or maybe it was Bambi, tossed Juliet a twisted look of confusion. “I don’t get it? Oh, wait. Who’s messing with me? You guuuys…”

  “It’s you. You’re the one who turned it on,” Juliet said with a beaming smile, her voice full of sunshine and bullshit. “See that little clicky thing in your hand with all the little button-y thingies on it? Yeah, that’s the on button. Push it again, and it becomes…the off button. I know…my mind is blown too.”

  The twins looked at it together and giggled before pushing the button and silencing the alarm, to which they both bounced up and down clapping to.

  “Okay…well, I’d stop giving that one beer.” Shifting her focus from one girl to the other, she finished, “And maybe feed that one so she doesn’t…” Juliet extended her arms inches in front of her own breasts, illustrating the size of her target’s chest, “you know, tip over. Little…uh, top heavy over there.”

  When the girl in question raised her brow and more of that chronic confusion pierced her expression while looking down at her chest, Juliet tossed her a backhanded compliment. Because why not? “Great surgeon, by the way. I can barely tell.”

  Jack half-snorted at Juliet’s wit, and the fact that she didn’t give two shits about being an asshole to a stranger. “Sound advice, Doc.”

  “Nurse,” she corrected.

  Jack knew full well Juliet Walker was a nurse. He also knew how old she was, that she worked way too much, and needed to get laid, but she didn’t need to know he knew everything he needed to about her. “Nurse?”

  “Yes, Juliet Walker RN. I save lives.”

  “So, you do have a name, and it only took you two years to introduce yourself. Jack. Jack Decker, frat boy, when I’m not saving lives, and firefighter otherwise.” Juliet’s name was no mystery either. Again, he knew all about her. He wasn’t a stalker who went through her mail and snuck in her house through open windows to sniff her panties or anything. He had friends on the force who ran plates on someone’s car for him and dished out everything he wanted to know. Not creepy. It’s important to know who your neighbors are these days.

  Though Juliet put on a good front, her game wasn’t solid. She played that she was surprised by his introduction, but everyone in town knew who he was. He was Jack Decker, after all.

  “Firefighter? No more candles for me,” she said under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear as she started to walk away.

  “Hey, Jules,” Jack hollered.

  She stopped abruptly and slowly turned like it hurt every cell in her body to twist in his direction and give him an ounce more of attention. “It’s Juliet.”

  “Yeah…” he acknowledged. “So, does it hurt?”

  Through semi-gritted teeth, she spat, “Does what hurt?”

  As nonchalantly as he could, Jack dropped the evening closer, determined to win this battle. “That stick up your ass. Seeing how you’re a fancy nurse and save all the lives, I bet you know someone who can…I don’t know…take a look at that. Maybe even help you remove it.”

  Laughter filled the air as the group of party gawkers reminded them they had an audience.

  “Oh…really, cute. Yeah, I’ll look into that…thanks.” Juliet tossed a hand to her hip and threw a little shade of her own that would no doubt ruin the rest of Jack’s night, even if he was Jack “The Pecker” Decker. “Don’t be a stranger around the ER now. I hope that rash is better, and nothing…fell off.”

  When Frenchie…or maybe it was Bambi, removed her arm from Jack and took a fumbling drunk step back, Juliet had won, and Jack was happy to give her the trophy.

  With a deep, throaty laugh, he said, “It’s doing great! I’d love to show you sometime.”

  From over her shoulder, Juliet yelled, “I bet you would,” before walking up her steps and slamming her front door, chirping her own car alarm once inside.

  Juliet was chatting over coffee in the hospital café with her friend and yoga instructor, Stormy. Stormy held a weekly session there for expecting moms and geriatric patients. Odd combo, but that was Stormy.

  “I’m so tired, annoyed…and edgy. My jackass neighbor kept me up all night.”

  “You mean Jack Decker?” Stormy couldn’t hide her enthusiasm. “Did you stay over at his place, or was he at yours? Is it true what they say about his bedroom?”

  “How do you know Jack Decker is my neighbor? I don’t know any of your neighbors…well, accept your mom, but only because it’s technically her house.”

  Stormy rolled her eyes. “I know where you live, and I know where Jack lives, so…”

  “Oh my God, you’re not one of his Friday nights, are you?” Juliet knew about Jack’s Friday nights, and his Saturday through Thursday nights. It was why he made her skin itch.

  “No! God no. I mean, not that it would be a bad thing, you know…if you were his Friday night. But no.” Stormy cleaned up her unintentional almost insult. “Everyone with ovaries knows where the mighty Jack Decker lives.”

  “That’s disgusting. He’s that big of a manwhore? Ew.” Juliet shook her head with a sour face. She could only imagine what a petri dish could grow from Jack’s sheets. Well, if he was a do-it-in-the-bed kinda guy. It probably wasn’t wise to set anything on any of his tables…or sit on his furniture. She’d just continue to avoid the place since it likely needed to be burned to the ground in order to fully sanitize.

  “He’s also the reason the park is its busiest from ten-thirty-seven a.m. to eleven-oh-two a.m.” Stormy winked.

  Odd, Juliet thought. “What? Why?”

  “Because that’s when his morning run winds through the park.”

  “Oh my God, are you kidding me?” A look of utter disgust danced on Juliet’s face. This conversation just got…icky. “Just for a glance at Jack ‘The Pecker’ Decker?”

  “Have you seen the man run? It’s a sight to behold. Like heaven in sneakers. Everything’s so…tight, yet it all…moves,” Stormy said in a breathy tone, batting her lashes at the vision she was painting.

  With scolding judgment in her eyes and tone, Juliet chided, “Seriously, Stormy, you surprise me! That’s beneath you.”

  “Well, beneath me and about forty other women,” Stormy snorted without shame. “Some don’t even have kids. You know, I’ve actually witnessed a woman shoving a kid to the ground just so it’ll cry and Jack will stop. You know—fireman, first aid, and all that?”

  Grabbing her chest with an equally dramatic gasp, Juliet shook her head. “That’s awful. Grown women?”

  “I don’t even think it was her kid!” Stormy nodded in sympathy, paper coffee cup resting at her lips.

  Nearly choking, Juliet spat what little coffee remained in her mouth. “That’s unbelievable!”

  “Watch sometime. See for yourself,” Stormy continued with confidence. “When do you think most of the women around here water their plants and grass? Eleven-oh-three a.m.”

  “NO!” Juliet couldn’t believe it. That many women, were that desperate for one man’s attention? A man who had given attention to all the women across three or four counties?

  “Fact. The Craven widow washes her car every Wednesday at that time — in high heels and booty shorts with her hair as high as Watermark Tower. I mean, who wears heels and booty shorts to wash their car?” Stormy questioned, as if the heels and booty shorts were the real zinger.

  Just when Juliet thought she knew her neighbors. “She’s got to be…what? In her late fifties, early sixties?”

  Stormy shrugged, finishing off her coffee. “She’s got the tits and ass of a twenty-five-year-old. Mr. Craven was Dr. Craven — plastic surgeon.”

  “Women still act like that in this day and age? So much for feminism,” Juliet concluded.

  Stormy was enjoying the education she was bestowing on her dear friend. “He’s a legend, and legends trump everything. Everyone wants to try out his…hose.”

  “Hose? Is that what we’re calling it? I don’t care how good he is with his hose. That�
��s just demeaning.” Juliet wasn’t much of a marching feminist. She cared about issues, but supported views in other ways. Jack Decker, however, made her want to march and burn bras on his lawn. That man was single handedly taking women back decades.

  “Well, when you have a ‘fire’ to put out,” Stormy said with air quotes, “would you want the guy with a sprinkler or a nice girthy, sturdy hose who can go all night until…the fire is out?”

  Juliet’s jaw dropped at the level of innuendo her friend had stooped to. “I can’t believe you, Stormy Bradford!”

  She shrugged. “I can’t believe you live next to the most sought-after hose in town and haven’t once set your lawn on fire. You’re cute and your ass is perfect. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you with a midnight emergency.”

  “Stop it. Just stop,” Juliet laughed, tossing napkins at her friend. “Jack Decker comes near me with that hose and I’ll put it out of commission — for good.”

  “You’re still taking kickboxing then?” Stormy snorted.

  “You bet your tight, bounce-a-dime-off, fireman ass on it.” Juliet didn’t realize she’d just walked right into it.

  “A dime? So, you have seen him run…and don’t you mean hose?”

  Jack wound up back at the firehouse after his morning run through the park. Some of the guys were out front washing one of the engines and thought dousing him with water to cool him off would be the friendly thing to do. They got him with the hose.

  “Man, that should have played in slow motion for your fans,” Landon, one of the guys, said.

  “My what?” Jack asked while catching his breath, genuinely confused.

  “Your fans, bro.” Griff, the engine chief, nodded past Jack.

  When Jack turned around, a group of mommy walkers stalked from across the street in the park like it was natural to huddle in a pack that large. They quickly whipped their heads the other direction, pretending they were tending to the babies in strollers and not visually groping Jack from afar. They were like a hungry flock of vultures trying to decide who was going to do the death dive and take out their prey. Maybe it was the way they were looking at him, or perhaps it was the drool, but they were suffering from hungry, and it wasn’t for peanut butter and jelly. It was something else they wanted. Something more…filling.