by Hall, S. E.
I scamper off as he stands alone, adjusting himself.
***
Home Depot is perhaps the greatest store on Earth—I mean, except for the Disney Store, but that goes without saying. Dane and I are here in the Depot and have split up, our projects top secret. He’s like a kid at Christmas today, with an extra spring in his step I’ve never seen, and it’s so endearing. I’m praying things actually work out the way he’s hoping and he’s able to step back from the business and be…well, just be.
Everything he does is for someone else—their happiness, their bank account, their education. It’s about damn time he gets his own happy. Which is exactly why I confiscated his cell phone; no work calls today to spoil his bliss.
I must say, I’m more than a little surprised when it rings with “Jeff Walker” displaying on the screen. Why is my dad calling Dane?
“Daddy?” I answer curiously.
“Hey, Slugger, how are you?”
“Um…good. Did you know you called Dane’s phone, not mine?”
“I’m not senile yet, Sugar. Where is your man friend? I need to find out when he’s coming to pick up the skill saw. I loaned it to Scott a while back so I’ll have to go pick it up.”
What, what’s this? Skill saw you say? Enlisting my own father’s help against me?
“Daddy, this is mutiny! You can’t help him beat me, I’m your daughter! You tell him you lost that saw.”
“What are you babbling about? Help him beat you at what?”
I quickly explain the situation to my father, confident he’ll see my point and agree to nix the loaning of anything to my home makeover nemesis. If Dane wants a saw—why does Dane want a saw?—he can buy one, ‘cause my family tree is closed for business!
However, my father sees things differently, choosing instead to hone in on the fact that Dane bought me a place, off campus. “You’re moving in with a guy you’ve been dating for what, six months, and you’re just telling me? That’s not okay with me, Laney Jo.”
How is it possible I forgot to tell him? Perhaps the mortal fear of the wrath o’ Daddy caused a subconscious mental block.
“He’s not living there too, Daddy. It’s mine, he got it for me so I didn’t have to live in the dorm anymore. I can have a big bed and a fridge; I can cook real meals now! And Bennett lives right on the other side.”
“Why wouldn’t Bennett just live with you?”
Not at all Catholic, I knock out a speedy sign of the cross, asking for forgiveness for what I’m about to do. You know, throwing my friend under the bus to make myself look better. “Because, Daddy,” I say in full-on little girl voice, “she is living with her boyfriend on her side.”
I owe Bennett a really nice guilt gift.
“Oh, well then,” he grumbles, “in that case, I guess I’m happy for ya, kiddo. That was awful nice of him, and I’m glad to hear you can cook. You can probably do your laundry right there too, huh?”
“Yep, it’s got a laundry room. Guest room too! You can come and stay with me.”
Preferably before Sawyer moves in.
“Laney Walker, please come to Outdoor Living,” the PA crackles through the store. “Laney Walker to Outdoor Living, please.”
“Um, Daddy, I have to go now. I’m being overhead paged in Home Depot.”
“Shit, Slugger, you break something?”
“No, Daddy,” I laugh, “I’m sure it’s Dane having me paged.”
“All right then, go find him. And have him call me.”
“NO SAW, DADDY! I mean it!”
“Bye, honey,” he chuckles and hangs up.
I’m loving carefree Dane. The childlike smirk on his face when our eyes connect as I walk into the Outdoor Living section is the cutest thing I have ever seen.
“Comfy?” I giggle and ask my crazy man, who is sprawled out in one of the hot tubs on display. Not near or next to. In.
“I am,” he nods and winks at me, arms draped out behind him along the edges of the tub, “but I need you to get in here too, make sure it’s big enough.”
I turn at the sound of a cough behind me and see a guy, probably my age, barely containing his laughter at Dane’s performance. “Do people usually sit in them to test them out?” I ask him, hoping this is normal and we’re not actually the spectacle that I suspect.
“No, not usually,” he snorts, “but it’s okay if you want to join him.”
Far be it from me to take one ounce of Dane’s fun away from him. So naturally, I sling a leg over the side unabashedly and join him in an empty hot tub in the middle of Home Depot. Absolutely normal.
“Why are you thinking about a new hot tub? Something wrong with yours?”
“No,” he crooks a finger a me, beckoning me to come closer. “I would like to humbly ask you to discuss with me the benefits of putting this on your back deck.”
“Oh, babe, good job,” I pat his leg patronizingly, “thank you for asking first, but no. You’ve given me enough already. I won’t take advantage of your generosity with non-essentials. I can survive without a hot tub.” I lean over and kiss his cheek. “But thank you anyway.”
“But what if I can’t survive without it? Some of our finest moments have been in a hot tub. I think we need one at each place.”
He’s now rubbing his nose up and down my neck, almost making me forget where we are. In public. Home Depot, of all places.
“While I appreciate the fact that you want to discuss this in the middle of the store, sitting in a display tub, can we please get out and talk about it later?”
“Prude.” He nips my neck.
“Exhibitionist.” I pinch his thigh. “Come on.” I climb out, looking around to see that, why, yes, we do have a small audience. Ah, fuck it. I take a bow. “By the way,” I tell him when he joins me, “my dad called you back.” I dart my eyes to his. “I know all about your skill saw treachery. Not only did I forbid him from helping you, but…well, have fun calling him back. I kinda sorta forgot to tell him until today you bought his only daughter a love shack.”
And with that, I sashay down the aisle, really letting my hips rock enticingly for the slack-jawed hottie standing frozen in place behind me.
I’m just loving all the chances I’m getting to do that to him lately.
CHAPTER 6
***Dane***
Bless you, Nelly, for “Batter Up.” I literally can’t look away from her booty popping to the beat. And so talented she is, twerking while she paints the kitchen—amazing.
“Good God,” I mutter to myself, seriously considering attacking her. That’s it, reach way up high to get that spot. Yep, up on your tiptoes, now hold it…shit! Dropping your paintbrush is probably not the best way to not get caught spectating with your tongue hanging out.
She, of course, hears the brush hit the tile and turns, raising her brows at me with a sweet smirk. “Need something, babe?”
I nod, afraid to speak as my voice might crack like a randy teenager.
“And what would that be?”
“I, um—”
“You dropped something,” she points out, bending down in front of me to pick up my paintbrush for me, then walking back to the sink, wetting a rag. “Let me wipe that up before it dries.”
Now she’s on her hands and knees, and once the mess is gone and the rag tossed on the counter, she maintains position. She looks up at me, eyes almost black, darkened with seduction. “What is it you said you needed?”
One thing I haven’t quite mastered yet, which I suspect is a problem for all men, is exactly what flips her switch. She’s almost never the aggressor, so it sets my blood to boil when Laney turns it on, takes the reins, and makes it brazenly clear she wants me. I try to catalog the moments, like now, to find the common denominator—a word I use, certain clothes, a look— anything to clue me in to the trigger, but so far I remain dumbfounded. The day I figure it out? That’ll be the day I weep like a baby and praise the heavens on my knees.
But for now, I’ll just be thankf
ul for it happening on its own every once in a blue moon.
“I need whatever you wanna give me, baby,” I answer honestly.
“Hmm.” She rises on her knees, lifting the bottom of my shirt and tracing the lines in my abs with the tip of her tongue. “And I need for you to take this shirt off.”
I reach behind my head and pull it off in a blink, tossing it somewhere. “Now what?”
Any time I can get Laney talking, I increase my odds that she’ll talk dirty, taking me to a whole new stratosphere. When I’m in charge, I’m all the way in charge, but every once in a while…my girl makes me crazy. I love her filthy mouth when I can get it going.
She unbuttons my shorts, pulling down my zipper as she peers up at me. “You tell me.”
What a tease, already giving up. I lean over her, placing both my hands on the counter. “No, baby, this is your show. I wanna see what you got.”
Rising to the challenge, she kisses my abdomen, my hips, and drops my shorts and briefs to my ankles. My dick is rock hard; I think it may actually be leaning towards her mouth on its own. She’s kissing all around it, little bites here and there, and one hand is playing roughly with my balls, but big guy is still left unattended.
“Put your mouth on me, baby,” I whine as one of my hands comes off the counter and digs into her hair, guiding her head where I need her most.
“Where? Here?” She ducks her head and takes one of my balls in her mouth, sucking it in and out, pressing that “oh fuck” spot right behind it. Yes, I taught her that and she knows what it does to me. Ball action is always good, but I’m dying to be fully in her mouth right now.
“Baby, fuck,” I pant, twisting her hair tightly around my hand, “get my dick in your mouth. Suck the shit out of it.” Oh, she’s asking for it. I’m five seconds away from showing her what gorgeous girls who don’t listen get.
Finally, her mouth closes around the head, right under the cap, sucking softly. She grips the base and pumps, taking nothing more in her hot little mouth. I would never just shove it down her throat, but damn, she’s trying my patience. Fork in blowjob, what path do I take? Get growly and demanding or beg sweetly and pathetically?
“Laney,” I warn her in a strained growl, and feel her giggle on the head of me, which actually feels pretty damn good. And as crazed as I am, a mad stroke of genius still hits me and I know exactly how to get this stubborn, teasing minx to deep-throat me. “It’s okay, baby, you’ll get better at it.”
Ahhh, there we go, hell yes. Now she’s going to town, lips curled under and tight against my length, no break in suction. Her tongue presses hard up and down the vein while her fingers follow the same pattern on my taint. “That’s it, baby, just like that. Mmm hmm, so good, Laney,” I moan, spurring her on.
I wrap one of my own hands around the bottom of my shaft, making sure I measure a stopping point, and then start fucking her face like a maniac. She’s a champ, actually really good at this, and puts both her hands on my hips, letting me direct the pace. One hand in her hair, the other around my base, I feel that tingle start in my balls, creeping up the vessels in my dick, a welcomed high. “Gonna come, baby, you want it?”
She nods, looking up at me while she grips my hips even harder in her hands and my dick with her lips. I throw my head back and let go, let it all go, anything that isn’t Laney and me insignificant. My beautiful girl stays right there with me, taking it, giving me exactly what I need.
I try to pull out of her mouth when I’m done, but she attempts to hang on just a little longer, like she wants more. Very sexy, but I just came, so the head’s a little sensitive. I win the battle and pull up my pants, then drop to my knees to join her.
“What was all that teasing?” I ask, kissing up and down her neck.
She moans through a giggle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? Let me show you.” I lay her back on the kitchen floor and proceed to show her that two can play that game, using my mouth and tongue to torment her…twice.
***Laney***
“Babe,” I call through the door, “you getting hungry?”
“Yeah, let me wrap up in here and I’ll go get something.”
“How about I just order some pizza and salads? Call and invite Tate and B over?”
“Sounds good!” he calls back.
I call in our order, which means at least three pizzas to not only feed everyone, but make sure everyone gets what they like. I’m a black olive girl, Dane pepperoni, Tate pineapple and Bennett salad only, that is, until you’re not looking and then she’ll sneak a bit of anything. I start straightening up the construction zone in the living room enough to make room for a carpet picnic, since I have no furniture. I just don’t see the point of bringing in a bunch of stuff in that I’ll just have to cover when I paint.
Paint first, furniture last.
“Hello!” Bennett knocks and calls out as she opens the door. Not that I mind, but the earlier activities in the kitchen need not be walked in on, so maybe I’ll say something to her? I’m not sure when I became a nympho… I thought I read where women don’t crave it until their late thirties, but I love feeling close to Dane. And with the free time of summer, and him off work, we’re becoming a lot like rabbits.
“Come in,” I finally respond, awkwardly fantasizing sexcapades while they stand there. “Pizza should be here soon. What’s new?” I cop a squat on the floor so they’ll know to do the same.
“Why do you still not have any furniture?” Bennett asks, looking around the room, confusion covering her pretty face.
“Because she’s trying to paint herself into the ground first,” Dane answers for me as he comes down the hall and man hugs Tate. “How are you, bro?”
“Better than you, man. I have a place to sit,” Tate says to him but shoots me a teasing grin.
“We’re almost done. I’m going furniture shopping this weekend, in fact,” I say proudly.
“At garage sales.” Dane grumbles under his breath, but I catch it.
“So,” I butt in, not again going to have that conversation, “have you guys talked to Sawyer lately? I feel like he’s fallen off the face of the planet.”
“I see him at work,” Tate shrugs, “seems fine, I guess. Isn’t he moving in here with you?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him.” I need to make a point to call him. Parker’s wedding is right around the corner and I’m sure he’ll want to go after staying on the farm with them for a while. And yes, I want to see if he still plans to be my roommate. Speaking of work, though—“Tate, how’s the gym?”
Dane had turned over full ownership of the gym to Tate not too long ago, and Bennett helps runs the office stuff. I’m so proud of Dane, giving them a way to establish their future. This will be Tate’s last year of school coming up, and now he has a plan for after graduation. I know that’s a load off all of their minds.
“Doing great,” he winces as he sits down next to Bennett on the floor. “We’re adding a daycare in the back for the parents who want to come in after work and on the weekends. Bennett’s idea.” He pats her leg and beams at her proudly.
“That’s a great idea, B.” I smile warmly. “If you guys need people, maybe I could work there a couple nights a week? I love kids, and I could use the extra money.”
“Of course,” Bennett replies immediately. “You’re hired.”
Yes, Mr. Kendrick, I see you frumping over there, but you’ll live. I’m only talking about a few shifts here and there, and I want my own money.
“Can we eat at our place? This floor is uncomfortable as fuck,” Tate whines, reaching an arm behind him to rub his back.
“Is your back bothering you?” Dane asks him, concerned. “You go see someone?”
“Nah,” Tate waves a hand at him, “it’s not that bad, just acts up sometimes. You know what I need? A hot tub! Be nice to just soak sometimes.”
Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
Apparently not, because Tate
goes on.
“Laney, you don’t mind if I put a hot tub out back, do you? Of course, it’d be yours to use too.”
If Tate sounded any more like a robot reading off a script right now, I might actually laugh, but since I know what and who’s at work here, I will not be laughing.
“Funny you should mention that, Tate.” I turn to Dane, whose eyes remain glued on Tate even though I know he can feel my gaze. “Why just th—”
“Pizza’s here!” Dane shouts when the bell rings, interrupting me and bum rushing the door like the pizza guy is going to rescue him.
He stands at the door as long as possible, desperately making idle chit chat with the delivery boy, who’s obviously thinking no tip is worth the inquisition. I stroll up behind him and lay one hand on his back.
“Thank you.” I smile at the pizza guy and end the charade by shutting the door. “Let’s go eat, babe.” I play nice, taking his hand and pulling him back in the living room.
I let it slide, for now, and we eat together on my floor. Bennett agrees to help me shop for something to wear for the wedding and invites me to some “ladies only” party a girl in her drama class is having. Sounds boring as hell, but I agree to do it for B. Tate and Dane shoot the breeze about The K, the gym and whatever else until we’re all stuffed and unanimously sick of sitting on the damn floor.
“So, I gotta go to work soon.” Tate stands and offers a hand down to Bennett. “You two should come down for a drink,” he says to Dane and I.
Dane looks at me—first time in a while, scaredy cat—leaving it up to me.
“I’m pooped. We worked really hard in here all day. I think I’d rather just head to your house and collapse in bed.”
Ready? Aim. Fire…
I smile sweetly. “Maybe get in the hot tub for a while.”
He tries to hide it, but his nostrils flare slightly and his eyes grow wider for a split second. He clears his throat and shifts on his feet. “Whatever you want, baby. Rain check?” he asks Tate.