Big Deck

by Remy Rose

  BIG DECK

  by

  Remy Rose

  Copyright © 2017 by Remy Rose

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system) without written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference with no implied endorsement.

  Cover art by Reese Inman of Bookmark Design (https://ebookcoverdesign.net)

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  ~~ Prologue ~~

  Chapter 1 ~ Jack

  Chapter 2 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 3 ~ Jack

  Chapter 4 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 5 ~ Jack

  Chapter 6 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 7 ~ Jack

  Chapter 8 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 9 ~ Jack

  Chapter 10 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 11 ~ Jack

  Chapter 12 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 13 ~ Jack

  Chapter 14 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 15 ~ Jack

  Chapter 16 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 17 ~ Jack

  Chapter 18 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 19 ~ Jack

  Chapter 20 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 21 ~ Jack

  Chapter 22 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 23 ~ Jack

  Chapter 24 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 25 ~ Jack

  Chapter 26 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 27 ~ Jack

  Chapter 28 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 29 ~ Jack

  Chapter 30 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 31 ~ Jack

  Chapter 32 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 33 ~ Jack

  Chapter 34 ~ Madeline

  Chapter 35 ~ Jack

  Chapter 36 ~ Madeline

  The Moment Just Before

  Acknowledgments

  Contact

  ~~ Prologue ~~

  She opens the door before I even have the chance to knock.

  “Mr. Decker.”

  “Ms. Ross. You have another project for me?”

  “Yes. Thanks so much for fitting me in today.”

  “No problem. What can I do for you?”

  Kasey’s green eyes are shining as she cocks her head to the side. She’s cute as hell, rocking her pixie haircut and waif-like expression which make her look younger than late-thirties. “You know what you did in the living room with that wall?”

  “Yes. I remember you being very satisfied with it when I was done.”

  “Oh, yes. Definitely. It changed my whole perspective of that room. I was thinking of repeating that same thing elsewhere. Come in...I’ll show you.”

  I follow her into the house, a spacious Victorian with some nice character: French doors, chair rail and wainscoting, pumpkin pine floors which I sanded and refinished a couple of weeks ago—tough on the knees, but the end result was worth it. Kasey’s old cocker spaniel is laying beside the coffee table on the braided rug and rolls over on his back for a belly rub, his nub of a tail wriggling like it’ll fall off. Kasey turns to throw me a smile over her shoulder and takes a right into the guest room—one of the few rooms in this house I haven’t done anything in.

  But that’s about to change.

  “So you want to do that wall thing in here, huh?” I say, looking around the room. There are clusters of candles flickering on the night stands on either side of the bed. “Show me which wall.”

  “Over here.” She moves to the blank wall beside the closet. “It definitely needs something to liven it up, don’t you think?”

  “Got to agree with you, Kase.”

  “Do you think you can help me with it?”

  “You know I can.” Even in the dim light, I can see the color rise to her pale cheeks. I start to unbuckle my belt and watch her while I do it. The python in my pants is awakening, but I don’t want to rush it. This will be the last time we’ll fuck—I want her to remember me well.

  She’s breathing hard, her little tits rising and falling under her tight white tank top. She’s wearing my favorite cutoff jean shorts, but she won’t be for long.

  Did I mention how much I love the fringe benefits that go along with my job?

  “Take off your shirt and stand against the wall, Kase.”

  She quickly obeys, the tank top falling to the floor. Her body is lean, tanned, gorgeous, her diamond belly button ring glittering in the candlelight. Before I even ask, she puts her arms above her head. Got to love it—she knows what I want, and she’s ready. No doubt she’s soaked through the silk thong I know she’s wearing. I’ll be more than happy to confirm that.

  I pull my belt out of the loops in one smooth, slick movement. She’ll get that in a bit—part of the so-called “wall project.” It gets her ramped up, seeing me with the belt folded in half in my hands, hearing the loud clack of the leather as I contract and yank the belt tight to make it snap.

  “Keep your arms up, babe. Just like that.” She closes her eyes as I wrap the belt around her hands in a double-loop and buckle it tight.

  Fuck, I have some serious aching going on down below. I unzip my jeans a bit to give the boy some wiggle room. Plus, I want to press my wood against her after I take down her shorts, which I’m going to do in just a minute.

  “Got to kiss that sexy mouth, Kasey. You want me to, don’t you?”

  “God, Jack...yes.”

  I position myself in front of her, my face inches from hers. Her lips part, and I cover her mouth with mine, kissing her deeply for a few seconds before pulling back. “Girl, you taste incredible.” She does—a combination of some sort of watermelon lip gloss and wine. I move my mouth to her ear. “I’ll bet your pussy tastes just as good.”

  She moans and pushes her hips into me. I’m quite a bit taller than her, but the knock-me-down and-fuck-me heels she’s wearing gets her pussy closer to where I want it. We’ll make it work.

  Holding her bound hands above her head, grinding my pelvis into hers, I kiss her for a few more minutes, our warm tongues tangling. Her mouth is hot and wet—I want it on my cock, but I’d blow my load so fast, and like I said, I want both of us to savor this last time.

  I unhook her bra, and that joins her shirt on the floor. Got to give those perky little beauties some attention. She’s moaning softly as I grope her breasts and pinch her nipples to make them hard. I unbutton her shorts, pulling them down to her ankles and helping her step out of them. Christ, she’s so fucking sexy in those heels and her white silk thong. I can’t wait any longer to see how wet she is.

  I press her hands against the wall to show her I want them to stay in that position, and then I take a step back. No hotter sight than a beautiful woman against a wall, waiting to be fucked.

  “Spread your legs for me, babe. A little wider...that’s it. Perfect.”

  Sliding my finger inside the thin fabric of her thong, I rub it lightly along her soft pussy, grazing the tip of her swollen clit. A groan escapes me as I slip my finger inside her opening. Just as I expected, she’s drenched. Her thighs are tense, trembling, and I kneel in front of her to kiss each toned leg. “I know this’ll be difficult for you, baby, but I don’t want you to move, okay?”

  I can barely hear her answer. “Okay.”

  “Good girl. I want you more turned on than you’ve ever been.”

  “I already am, Jack...my God, you’re driving m
e fucking nuts.”

  I chuckle. “Get ready for total insanity, Ms. Ross.” Gripping her thighs with both hands, I use my teeth to pull down her thong so I can have complete access to Candyland. My cock is straining against my pants, throbbing like hell and protesting the delay. Easy, buddy. Be patient. The end result will be worth it...good things come to those who wait. So to speak.

  Before I even have my mouth on her, I can feel her heat. I’m not worried about giving her an O right off; I’ll make her come now and again when I fuck her.

  I begin with gentle kisses on her pussy lips, all around where she wants me to kiss most. I’m kind of an asshole when it comes to teasing women. And they love it.

  She is tilting her hips toward me, pushing her pelvis in my face, wordlessly begging for more. I can’t help but smile. This is the stuff I live for, seriously. Nothing better.

  Using the tip of my tongue, I swirl it around her little knob of pleasure. I know she’s aching for me to suck it. And I will.

  I lick her lightly a few more times, dragging my tongue from the bottom to the top of her slit, lingering there for a couple seconds. Her body is twisting against the wall as she gasps. I feel her hands in my hair, gripping, tugging—and that’s my cue. She’ll get her mind-blowing ’gasm, but first things first: a little pain to enhance the pleasure is in order.

  I take my mouth off her and stand up. I’m hard as a fucking rock, and thank God it won’t be too much longer.

  “Kasey. Sweetheart. You did two things I asked you not to.”

  Her voice is raw, desperate. “Jack. Please don’t.”

  I’ve got to hide my smile, because she knew this would happen if she disobeyed me. Which is why she disobeyed me. “You moved when I asked you not to, and you brought your arms down when I asked you to keep them over your head. If you want me to make you come—and I know you do—you’ll need to take your punishment.” Swiftly, I unbuckle the belt and remove it from her wrists. “Turn around.”

  Whimpering, she does what I ask. I reach out to stroke her sexy round ass. Christ, I’m going to miss doing her.

  “Put your hands back up on the wall, Kase. Spread your legs. And don’t move.”

  She obeys. I reach in my jeans pocket for the condom. The sound of the foil packet ripping open makes her shudder with anticipation. She knows what she’s going to get.

  I slide down my jeans and boxers, my cock springing forward. He’s ready. More than ready. Holding the belt buckle in one hand, I reach forward with my other hand so my fingers can touch her pussy. She’s moaning my name over and over. This girl loves the belt, but the consequence will be quick this time, because I’m going to explode if I don’t fuck her.

  I tickle her engorged clit with one hand while I bring the belt across her ass with the other. One smack. And a second, slightly harder. And a third, for good measure. My cock is throbbing. I feel a trickle of wetness from her pussy and shove my fingers inside her. She’s going to come.

  Dropping the belt, I grab her by the shoulders and spin her around, getting on my knees in front of her.

  “Suck me, Jack. Please, oh God...please.”

  Gladly, babe. I fasten my lips around her swollen nub and suck, kiss and lick her into a frenzy. Her fingers are in my hair again, pulling so hard it hurts. She is practically shrieking as she comes, and I lap up the small burst of her juices while she shudders and gasps.

  Victory.

  And now...my turn.

  “You’re not done yet, sweetheart.” I rub the tip of my freshly-wrapped dick against her soaked opening. “You need to take my cock. Every inch.”

  She spreads her legs, groaning and panting. I grab her ass with both hands and hoist her up against the wall, pinning her there. “Take it, baby,” I grunt, thrusting my huge erection into her. My mouth finds hers, and we tongue-wrestle as I fuck us both into climaxes.

  We’re both breathing hard. Kasey slumps against me, and I gently ease her down the wall. Her hands are clutching my t-shirt.

  “Jack...my God, the things you do to me. I just...” She trails off, shaking her head.

  “Just think, Kase—if you hadn’t decided you wanted your kitchen countertop replaced, none of this would have happened.”

  “True. That’s where it all began.”

  And here’s where it all ends. I think it but don’t say it.

  Silence, except for the sound of our slowing exhales and the tick-tick-tick of the imbalanced ceiling fan. I’ll fix that for her tomorrow, while she’s at work.

  Releasing her grip on me, she spreads out her hands out on my chest, smoothing my damp t-shirt and smiling ruefully. “Decker Renovation. Highly recommended.” She looks up at me, her face serious. “So. You did a fantastic job on my house.”

  “Thanks, Kase. I’m glad you like it.”

  “And you did a number on me.”

  I don’t know how to respond to that. Man, this is where it gets tough.

  Kasey gives this sad, soft little laugh, looking down at her feet so all I can see is the top of her head. I know she’s upset, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t kind of jab at me.

  I pull her into my arms for a hug. Three seconds, max—that’s my limit. Yeah, I’m a prick, but any longer than that, it starts to feel too intimate and gives them the wrong idea. So—the three second rule.

  “I’ll miss you, Jack.”

  “Thanks, Kase.” I can’t say anymore. I hope she understands, but they usually don’t.

  I clean myself up in her bathroom (new vanity and lighting, courtesy of yours truly), and when I come out, she’s poured herself a glass of wine and is sitting at the pub table. She knows me well enough to know this time, I won’t stay for a drink. There’s a shadow across her face so I can’t really see her expression. Probably a good thing.

  “Goodbye,” she says, simply.

  I feel a tugging in my gut as I close the door behind me and head to my truck. I don’t want to hurt her, or any of them. I make it clear, going in, that this is how it has to be. Still, they always try to get me to stay. But I don’t.

  And I never will.

  Chapter 1 ~ Jack

  July 10

  Want someone who can screw?

  Drill?

  Nail?

  Pound?

  Look no further than Jackson Decker. I do it all, and I make women happy. Pretty easy to do when you have the right tool and know how to use it.

  So, yeah—I’m talking sex, but I’m also a handyman, although I’m not much into that title. For me, that label always conjures up a guy with a beer gut and his ass crack peeking over saggy jeans, running around fixing leaky faucets. I prefer the term “renovation specialist.” Although James Taylor had a nice angle on being a handyman.

  Like the song says, they’ll come running to me. Business is going well, really well. I’ve been toying around with the idea of expanding, maybe adding a crew, but I’ve only been at this a couple years and I’m not sure it’s what I want to do with my life. I thought I knew before, but things took a detour. I’m okay with detours, because sometimes you find your way when you go off the beaten path. If that makes any sense. It didn’t to my father, but I learned that it’s more important to be happy with my own decisions than to please him.

  Shit, I’m getting too philosophical for a beauty of a day like this one. Perfect Maine weather: clear, bright blue sky with just a few cotton ball clouds here and there, 72 degrees and a hint of a breeze. I’ve got the windows to my truck rolled down, partly because I’m not a fan of AC and partly because I want to smell the salt air. I’m driving to meet a new client in Surry—bathroom remodel. We spoke on the phone a couple of weeks ago. First impression (if phone call first impressions count) was that she’s polite, cool, and high maintenance. I sometimes make a game out of predicting what a client will look like, and for Ms. Madeline Callaway, I’m picturing thirty-ish. Tall, thin, pale skin. Dark hair, probably in a bun most of the time. More angles than curves. We’ll see if I’m right.

 
I always get a kick out of women’s reactions when they first lay eyes on me. They usually look surprised, almost startled, probably because they were expecting someone who looks like the ass-crack guy I described earlier. Some of them get flustered and have trouble looking me in the eye. They think I don’t see them resting their gaze on my mouth, darting their eyes across my chest or glancing at my crotch and blushing. Jesus, that always gets to me—when women try to hide that they want me. Like they’re back in high school, glowing with innocence but burning with want.

  Being a renovation specialist has some key fringe benefits.

  I’ve taken quite a few of my clients to bed. Single women only—I’m not into parking my car in someone else’s garage. I don’t really have a type—I’m attracted to all different kinds of women: sleek brunettes, spiky redheads, curly blondes. Curvy, tiny, bold, shy. I love getting to know their scents, the feel of their skin under my hands, what makes them gasp. I love the moment when I hook my thumbs in the waistband of their panties, just before sliding them down—the intake of breath from both of us, the anticipation of what her pussy will look like, taste like. One of my favorite things to do is go down on a woman, especially when she’s bare and glistening pink so I can see it all, lick every quivering millimeter of her. It sometimes feels like it’s going to kill me, when I’m eating her and listening to the sounds she’s making, wanting to bury myself deep inside her. But getting high from making her squirm…pleasing a woman like that is the best kind of ecstasy there is. And I don’t care how much a girl might protest my going down there, or act like she’s too pure for it—once she feels what my tongue can do, she’s pretty much putty in my hands.

  Little renovation humor there with the putty reference.

  I can get a sense pretty quickly of who wants to be made love to and who wants to be fucked hard. For most of them, it’s a combination.

  I can do that.

  Jesus. Things are getting a little uncomfortable below the belt. I take one hand off the wheel and raise myself up a little out of my seat for a quick dick adjustment. Doesn’t help that it’s been a week or so since I’ve fucked someone. I’ll have to rectify that soon, or I’ll be taking matters into my own hands, so to speak.