When Jake Plummer strolled down the hallowed halls of Miradale High, he garnered admiring glances from female seniors and freshman alike. It wasn't only that he was tall, dark-haired, and lanky, with a face that was too handsome, he also had a certain away about him that drew people to him. His jaws were square; his bright eyes often filled with mischief. And he maintained a knowing half smile around his sensuous-looking lips that had any girl he approached believing he felt something special for her.
Jake dated a lot. He had plenty of girls cuddling up to him, letting him touch them in the wrong places. He French-kissed them and made out with them after ballgames or at parties, and later in his hotrod.
But not Roxy. She snubbed him, right up to the time he graduated, nicely but firmly. That effectively prevented him from coming on to her. Another problem was that she'd started dating Robbie White exclusively, and Rob was one of his closest friends. From what Robbie was saying about her, Jake figured the relationship was serious.
No partner had blown his mind during any of his sexual encounters. He had release, yeah, but no one turned him and his insides to mush so he'd be a jabbering idiot parsing out love words in the heat of sex. What he usually got was a quick, passionless screw. What he really wanted was the sizzling, mind-bending excitement and satisfaction he fantasized about if he ever got the opportunity to plunge into Roxy Diamond.
Robbie went away to college, and Jake apprenticed with his father to learn the plumbing trade. He was busy with vocational school and hands-on experience. He forced himself to forget about Roxy Diamond. As far as he was concerned, she was out of sight—and out of mind.
Roxy didn't give Jake a tumble until the night of her combination graduation/birthday bash—an Open House to which her parents invited all the Miradale graduating seniors. Jake and Roxy getting cozy that night was really a fluke.
Jake crashed the shindig like other bored males from town looking to party. The celebration was catered, but the Diamonds weren't the best chaperones for a crowd of hormone-loaded teenagers in swimming trunks and skimpy bikinis. There were plenty of secluded places at the Diamonds' available for heavy petting and more, especially when Roxy's parents left for their own party. The laughter and squeals coming from the senior girls, however, didn't sound frightened.
But Roxy's painful squeal in the boathouse that night shook Jake. Wishing to repeat that single, hot, sweaty night in the boathouse never happened.
Jake moved into the bedroom to turn on the radio Halting next to the bed briefly, he sniffed the air, getting a whiff of some remembered fragrance. He looked around and saw something strange on the top of a chest of drawers. He walked over and his jaw dropped. He picked the object up tentatively with two blunt fingers. His face twisted into a grimace before scrutinizing the thing a little longer. It sure looked and felt a hell of a lot like his helper when it grew to the proper size. Jesus! The damn thing almost felt warm to the touch. Who owned a giant, self-inducing fucker? Jake wondered, when he finally realized what it was. Was Mrs. Diamond using a dildo?
He'd seen toys in sex catalogs, but never held one in his hand. Why would he? He had one of his own to play with. He choked on a snicker and squeezed the thing, but it didn't give. It felt so much like his own skin, he even rubbed an index finger up its length to the ridge around its smooth-as-velvet head. He noticed it even had a tiny slit. When he touched a button on the base, the thing began to vibrate. He dropped the dildo on the top of the chest like a hot potato. It was weird holding the damn thing in his hand. He almost felt as if his own plumber's helper had been cut off, except there wasn't any blood in sight. Still, Jake pressed a hasty couple of fingertips along his fly to make sure everything belonging to him was still intact and where it should be.
Shit! That sure is some frightening feeling!
Quickly, Jake shook his head and turned on his heels. He flipped the radio switch a notch higher, left the room, and toted the ladder to the basement to work on the plumbing problem.
* * * *
"Night, Alf." Roxanne waved to the night watchman making his rounds, checking the offices. As she hopped into the elevator, she added, "See you on Monday." Once out of the building, she checked her watch and hailed a yellow cab on Third Avenue. She wanted to reach Penn Station in time to board the last express train to Miradale. She counted the minutes, sweating it out as the cab got bogged in traffic. But she finally made it. Just.
Roxy had stayed late at work so she could take a three-day weekend. There were two thick manuscripts she needed to read by Monday. Her senior editor and boss, MaryBella Johnson, demanded her assistants finish what they were given to read during the week, no matter if they had a life of their own on weekends. Roxy knew Barbara Gentile, MaryBella's other assistant, a drab, rather uninspiring, hardworking hire with the tenacity of a bulldog, would probably go a lot farther in the company than Roxanne ever would. Roxy's ambition was to write, not edit, but she was determined to earn a decent salary so that she could write.
After arriving in Miradale after the hour-long-plus train ride, Roxanne headed to the train station's parking lot and dumped her heavy briefcase and purse onto the seat of the white convertible she had rented for the summer. She slid inside the car and for a few moments just sat there, inhaling a long, thankful sigh. It was good to be home. The lease at her apartment in the Village was up soon and her parents wanted her to live with them at the lake permanently. But having been on her own for three years following her divorce, at age twenty-five, Roxy hadn't yet decided what to do. Both her parents were rarely home, moving back here would be almost like living alone, and she cherished her privacy. On the other hand, the commute into the city was no fun; it was easier to get to work from the Village. That was a big consideration. But she loved the lake. The tranquility and peace she found there fed her soul as well as her muse. Her decision depended on whether the elder Diamonds would put the house on the market if their month-long reconciliation trip to Europe didn't happen.
Roxanne inserted the key and twisted the ignition. The motor purred, and she headed for Mirror Lake and home. She flipped on the car radio. The weather report promised nothing but sunshine. The thought of lazing in the hammock for three days, watching the sparkling waves on the lake, reading for a few hours, taking a cool dip, and just relaxing, sounded like heaven. She might even take the sailboat out for an hour or two if she had time.
But first, she had to see if the plumber had fixed the leak.
When she pulled into the driveway fifteen minutes later, Roxanne saw the plumber's truck. The outside rear lights were burning, while the inside of the house was lit up like a church.
The leak must've been worse than I thought, she told herself. Either that, or he got to the house very late, turned all the lights on, and is still working.
She walked along the path from the driveway. As she neared the back entrance, Roxy heard music coming from her room. The entire scenario didn't make her happy. She didn't feel like babysitting the plumber at ten or eleven o'clock at night while he finished up. All she wanted right this minute was a warm shower and a full night's sleep. Maybe she'd ask Mr. Plummer to come back tomorrow morning to finish the job. Plus, she meant to ask him about the noise and the waste of electricity, too. When she glanced at the back door, she noticed the house key was still in the lock. She pushed the door open and went inside.
"Mr. Plummer?"
No answer.
Roxy placed her briefcase and purse on the kitchen table and walked into the great room, frowning as she heard the music blaring from her bedroom. She passed the door to the basement without stopping. The bedroom light was still lit, and she hurried to switch off the radio. She noticed, too, that she left out the dildo. That was supposed to be tucked under her pillow for emergency use. As she turned to put it away, Roxy caught her reflection in the mirror. She looked as if she'd been put through a wringer—at least twice.
My God, do I look that bad?
Her blond hair needed washing; there was a t
hin film of shiny grime on her cheeks and forehead; and she'd eaten the lipstick off her lips. All in all, she felt hot, sticky, and uncomfortable from the muggy, late July heat wave suffocating the area.
Roxy opened several top buttons of her short-sleeved blouse, scarcely able to wait until she could strip off her skirt, bra, and bikini underwear and slide into her cotton T-gown. She kicked off her pumps, dragged the nylon pantyhose off, rolled them into a ball and threw them onto a chair, leaving her legs and feet bare.
She started down the basement stairs but paused on the middle step, seeing the ladder and what was standing on one of the rungs.
Her gaze honed onto a pair of male buns, slim hips and a pair of long, muscular legs encased in tight jeans. The bottoms of those jeans were tucked inside a brand new pair of work boots on a rung of the six-foot ladder. The rest of the hunk disappeared in an opening of the dropped ceiling.
"Who are you?" she demanded, seeing it wasn't John Plummer. That sixty-year-old man didn't have that interesting set of buttocks filling out the denims.
Jake ducked down and almost swallowed his teeth.
"Uhh? That you, Roxy?"
He descended two more rungs on the ladder so that he could meet her eye-to-eye where she stood in the stairwell.
"Jake?"
"Yup, it's me. I thought nobody was home. Didn't expect to see you coming down those stairs, that's for sure."
"What are you doing here, Jake? Where's your father?"
"I'm the new plumber's helper." He laughed, as though thinking about something else. "Well, I am. For at least a couple of weeks. How've you been, Rox?"
Roxy continued down the rest of the steps to the basement floor where it was a few degrees cooler. She stared up at him. She saw he had changed.
After almost ten years, I guess everybody changes, but he hasn't that much. He's brawnier, not so lanky. And he wears his hair long now. But the square jaw and those murky eyes are still the same.
"Er, I'm fine, Jake. And you?"
"So so, but things are getting better."
"Yeah. I heard you'd turned into some kind of megawatt financial planner." She blinked, pulling her gaze away from his. "Then why are you doing plumbing—and at this time of the night? I thought whoever was fixing the leak would be done with this ages ago."
"I'll tell you why. Whoever did this job must have been a jerkwater plumber. And, you've got to realize this house is … well … somewhere near forty years old. So some of these pipes have to be replaced so the connections don't let go in another week or another month and you'll have the same problem again."
"Oh?" She looked around at the pieces of debris piled on the basement floor.
"How long is this going to take?"
"A couple of days."
"What? A couple of days? It's just a little leak. Can't you fix it faster than that?"
"Don't get your bowels in an uproar, Roxy, baby. I'll work on it over the weekend, and it will be finished by the time you go back to wherever you go on Monday morning."
"Monday!" She rolled her eyes, and her tongue wiped along her upper lip, thinking how much this was going to cost.
The movement of her tongue licking her lip caught Jake unawares. He felt a stirring in his loins.
It was seconds later when Roxy remembered what he called her. "Don't call me that, Jake. Since I work in the city, I like people to call me Roxanne. And part of my last name is Parmeter. I was married, in case you don't remember."
"How about that? I didn't know. Well then, congratulations, Rox., er, Roxanne."
"I'm divorced now, Jake. I use Roxanne Diamond-Parmeter as my business name."
"Holy cow, that's a mouthful. Can I just call you RDP for short?"
"Don't get smart." She frowned at him, not cracking a smile. "But listen, can you stop this now and come back tomorrow? I'm pooped. I'd like a nice shower before I go to bed."
He stepped off the ladder, and she realized again how tall he was and what broad shoulders he had grown into. He reached and pulled the hem of his T-shirt out of his jeans and wiped the perspiration off his brow and cheeks with it. Of course, that exposed a lovely view of his nicely shaped six-pack abs.
A flash of heat tingled through her without warning. Remembering how she felt about him years ago, she visualized herself going through a second adolescence at twenty-five, simply because he was so … very male. At this moment, Jake Plummer made her super-hyper aware that she was a woman.
"Yeah, it's hot up under these tiles."
She couldn't help taking a long gander at those rippling muscles. They looked as hard and solid as … well, as a metal washboard. Roxy's gaze rode along the path of dark chest hair leading beneath the jeans' waistband. Within seconds, that night in the boathouse, loaded with memories, threw her for a loop
I don't want to think about that—or what happened. It's bad enough he's here in the house, and I'm alone with him. I'll be remembering things he did to me that night. What if I shouldn't have sent him away? That was years ago, but I'm not going to start up with him. Besides, he must be married by now.
"You look hot, too."
Was he thinking the same thing I was?
"It's good you were smart enough to unbutton your blouse and let some air in."
Oh, he's not being smart-alecky.
Nevertheless, she knew where he was looking, because they stood close together. Her blouse gaped open. She was sure he saw down her cleavage. "You've got big eyes, Jake. Keep 'em to yourself."
He laughed. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself."
She knew he wasn't sorry at all.
"You know what I'd like to do right now? I'd like nothing better than strip and take a dip in that cool lake out there. How about it?" His grin was wicked. "Want to go skinny-dipping, RDP?"
"I don't know what alphabet soup you're talking about, Jake."
"I can't handle that fancy name of yours. Either I call you Roxy—or it's RDP."
She rolled her eyes a second time. "Then let's leave it at Roxy, huh? And while you're at it, get out of here and come back tomorrow." She gave him a small shove on the arm, pushing him toward the stairs. He hardly moved; the firmness of that hard bicep not reacting.
"But not too early, Jake. Make it eight-thirty or later, okay?"
"Okay, okay, I'm going, Roxy. That's the middle of the day for us plumbers. Don't you know that? I start much earlier. Look, why don't we do this? I'll take the key or you can leave it under the flowerpot again. I'll go to work when I get here, and you can get your beauty sleep. Wake up when you feel like it."
What a heavenly thought that was. No alarm shaking her up, no buzzer jerking her out of a cozy dream beneath the light covers. "Okay. That's fine, Jake. Just don't make too much noise when you're banging around down here."
"Gotcha." He waved her up the stairs and grinned at the lovely view of her cute ass swishing in front of his face. "How long are you staying at the lake?" he asked.
She reached the top of the steps and moved down the short hallway as she continued to talk. "I live and work in New York, Jake, but my parents are in Europe for a month, so I'm babysitting the house. I'm taking my vacation in days on long weekends, so I don't have to fight the commute every day. I come here a couple of times a week just to keep an eye on the house. It was lucky I did or the place would have been flooded, I suppose."
Jake flipped off the light switch at the top of the stairs and followed Roxy into the great room, then through the archway to the kitchen.
"And by the way, Jake, please don't turn on every light in the house. My electric bill will be astronomical. I'm paying the bills until my parents return."
His eyebrows rose.
"My dad got canned just before they left for Europe, and my mom's real estate commissions aren't due for more than a month. So money is a bit tight right now, especially with this plumbing bill coming up."
"I'll talk to my father…"
"No, Jake, I didn't mean that. If the work needs to be done, it needs
to be done. Your bill will get paid. It just may take a bit longer, okay?"
"No problem."
Jake hesitated as he pulled the back door open in preparation to leaving. "I'll do this on my time, Roxy. I won't hit you with a megabucks bill, just what's needed to make it right. I guess I feel I owe you." He reached out to grab her shoulders.
She shrugged away from him.
He backed off.
"Owe me, Jake? For what?"
"Er, what happened that night in the boathouse."
Why do I still have those funny tingles in my stupid tits when he mentioned the boathouse? She felt a need to swallow. "Ah, that, you mean? I'm no longer a slave to my hormones the way I was. And I'm sure neither are you. I forgot about that incident years ago, Jake. I suppose losing my … er … virginity would have gone by the boards at one of the frat parties during the first couple of weeks when I got to college. So it's just as well it happened when it did."
All of this was only because I saw him pop out of the blue without warning. Yeah, it shocked me a little, dammit. Now, I can get over it.
"Jake, will you please go?" She prodded him a bit more sternly. "I'll turn the lights out as soon as you pull away. I'd like to go to bed right about now."
"Okay, Roxy. I'll see you in the morning. G'night. Sleep well. Sweet dreams."
Chapter Three
Roxy didn't use the dildo. Her body might be humming with fresh memories of how big and hard Jake had been during the hour or so they made out that night long ago, but she was wiped out and just wanted to sleep. She did recall he hurt her during that first initiation into sex. His size scared her, and she must have tensed when he jammed it inside her. She remembered thinking she was going to bleed like a stuck pig. She didn't, of course. But she didn't know that until later.
She recalled, too, that he promised it would get better. So what if he told the truth? He should have taken his time, knowing she was a neophyte when it came to screwing. She never did find out what kind of a lover Jake Plummer was. Robbie didn't even squeeze her boobs when they were dating.
The Plumber's Helper Page 2