Roxy sighed and rolled over on her side. Forget it, she thought. That was all forgotten—water under the proverbial bridge.
The first time she slept with someone in college, she was again a little drunk. Maybe numb was a better word, because she didn't feel any pain. She didn't get much pleasure out of it either, but things got a little better. Some of the other collegians she'd played around with were better lovers than her husband, now that she'd thought about it. But she'd been crazy about Grady Parmeter. She thought she loved him when they decided to live together. From then on, she was faithful. Unfortunately, everything went down the tubes soon after they were married. They argued about everything. Finally, they decided a divorce was the best solution. She hadn't heard from her ex in almost three years and learned he had moved to the West Coast.
She could count fingers on one hand the number of times she'd dated following her divorce. She remembered sleeping with the last jerk who felt her up in the cab on the way back to her apartment. After that, she gave up. And now she was too busy and stressed out to date.
No more, she thought. I've decided to concentrate on my career and screw the rest of the lover boys who only want to get into my pants for a quickie of hot sex. And that includes Jake Plummer. Too bad he still looks more deliciously sexy than ever.
Finally, Roxy closed her eyes and shut off her brain, slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * * *
Jake didn't go right home; he stopped at the Clubhouse Pub, located at the entrance of Mirror Lake. He had things to think about. Roxanne Diamond in particular. He and his younger brothers often stopped there for a few brews after work or later before heading home to their parents' home.
He paused in the doorway, scanning the Thursday night crowd. Friday and Saturday there'd be a full house, but at 11 p.m. tonight, several barstools were vacant. Jake slid his ass onto an empty one next to another big guy dressed in work clothes.
"Bro?" Working late ain't you?" Pete, his brother, asked.
"Yeah. A leak up at the old Diamond house on the lake."
Jake signaled the barkeep to draw him a beer and swiveled his head sideways, looking at his brother. "I hope to God it wasn't dad that did that plumbing job. What a mess. It's gonna take me two days to clean up the connections and add more flow."
"How old is the house?"
"I'm guessing forty years or so, take or leave a few."
"Then that wouldn't be Pop doing the plumbing. Remember, he was still milking the cows at Grampa's farm."
"Yeah. I guess you're right."
The bartender slid the mug toward Jake along the polished bar and picked up the money his younger brother produced.
"Thanks, Pistol. I owe you one."
"My treat, Bro."
Jake threw an eye around the pub. He waved to a rear table full of six of his high school classmates. They were all married; two of the couples already had a few kids. None of his six classmates had left town to make their monetary mark in the world.
"So," Pete asked. "When do you need to finish the job? Do you want some help?"
"Naw. I'll work through tomorrow and maybe even Saturday morning. I should be done by then. That is, unless I can stretch it out longer and reacquaint myself with Roxy Diamond." Jake chuckled deep in his chest. "She's one hot babe. I didn't know she was married. Or that she was divorced, either."
"Umm. That's right. I remember. She's my age."
"Twenty-five, I think. I'd like to see her some more. And she's staying for the weekend—babysitting the house since her parents are in Europe."
"That right. Well, well, Bro." Pete raised the mug in a tiny salute. "I wish you a lotta luck."
Jake took another deep swallow of beer, wiped his mouth, and put down the empty mug. "Come on. Let's close up shop and go home."
* * * *
Jake tossed and turned in his bed, finding it hard to stop thinking about Roxy Diamond-Parmeter and her cute ass. Visualizing her lush boobs kept him half-hard all night, too. He finally fell asleep for about five hours. When he got up, he took a shower, left the house early, and stopped to grab breakfast at the all-night diner. He arrived at the Diamonds' house at 7:00 a.m.
Believing Roxy was still in bed, he used the key she'd given him and tiptoed through the kitchen and into the great room. When he paused in the short hallway, he saw the door to the back bedroom wasn't completely shut. He couldn't help himself; he peeked.
A thin blanket covered only her torso; her legs were uncovered from ankles to thighs. He pictured those long, slim legs wrapped around him that summer so long ago. It made him hot and raunchy, but it also made him wonder if she would let him into her bed now, so he could do it the right way. He'd make sure she had pleasure this time; if she would let him make love to her the way he knew how, to fill her up, hard and deep.
Maybe what he should do was go back to the kitchen, fix coffee, and bring her breakfast in bed. But, no, uh huh. That would be after they made love.
The stiffening plumber's helper prodded his zipper. He didn't need another hard-on. Jake had no idea if Roxy'd welcome him or take a roaring fit if he slipped between the sheets. Instead, he turned off his libido for the time being, flipped the silent light switch in the hall, and went cautiously down the stairs to the basement.
Chapter Four
Roxy lay quiet, but she had the eeriest feeling that someone was staring at her. She rolled over, keeping her eyes shut. She strained to hear any movement. When she did open them, there was no one there. Thank God! She'd have a small heart attack if someone were standing by watching her sleep.
Relaxing a bit, she rubbed her eyes, yawned, and suddenly remembered the leak—and Jake Plummer. It probably was him spying on her. He had a habit of staring at her when they were in high school, but she never let on that she knew. His strange-colored eyes, not blue but not gray either, were like fingers exploring her skin. In some ways, it was almost pleasant. And it was exciting watching his admiration light up behind his lashes. In another way, he scared her a little. His gaze was so … intense, as if he dared to probe her soul, read her thoughts, and make them a part of his.
Well, he could look all he wanted, she had thought so at the time, but she never let him touch her physically. Well—only that once.
Roxy nuzzled her nose deeper into the soft pillow and went back to sleep.
When she finally woke up and opened her eyes to check on the time, she groaned. Ten o'clock. She had work to finish. She'd taken a warm shower the night before, so she simply threw on a pair of denim shorts over her bikini panties and pulled on a knit top over her lacy bra. If there wasn't a man lurking in the house, she wouldn't have bothered with the bra. She never wore shoes either, if she had to, so she padded out of her bedroom barefoot, passed through the great room, and into the kitchen to fix her breakfast. She began to make a single mug of instant coffee, but realized she probably should offer Jake some if he had been here earlier. Then she spotted the white Dunkin' Donuts bag sitting on the countertop. When she peeked inside there were three snowy, sugarcoated donuts inside. She pulled one out and took a bite. Obviously, Jake started work much earlier.
Scrumptious! Cream-filled, my favorite!
Now she would have to offer Jake a mug of coffee. She loaded up the coffeemaker and nibbled at the fresh-made donut while the coffeemaker dripped. She realized she hadn't had any supper last night. No wonder she was hungry. A couple of sunny-side-up eggs, some bacon, and a slice of toast would do her fine until lunchtime.
Roxy padded to the basement door and ducked her head into the stairwell, "Hey, Jake? Want another cup of coffee?"
"Yo, Roxy. Yeah, thanks. That'd be great."
"How do you like it?"
"If you stick your finger in it, sweetheart, I won't need any sugar. Otherwise, I take it black."
"I knew you were a smart ass, plumber-man," she retorted snidely and returned to the kitchen to pour him a cup. It was a few moments later when she heard him coming up the steps, clomping across the great r
oom floor and into the kitchen.
"Morning. Did you sleep well?" he asked, sticking out a hand to accept the mug and getting a whiff of black, fresh made coffee. "Hmm, this is good," he said, taking a slurping sip. "I hope your dreams of me were just as sweet."
"I slept fine, thank you very much, Mr. Plummer. And I didn't dream at all. Certainly not of you, Jake."
"I'm devastated," he said with a wink.
"I bet."
She cracked two eggs into the heated frying pan. Depressing the plastic bar on the toaster, she placed two slices of white bread inside. "I ate one of the donuts. I hope you don't mind. I was starved."
"What kind did you take? The jelly?"
"No, the cream."
"Good. Then I'll take a second jelly donut. I already ate one cream on the way here, so now I have something to wash it down with." He took a man-sized bite out of the donut, and jam squirted into his palm. His big tongue swooped out and he licked the raspberry goop up into his mouth.
Watching that ordinary move, the weirdest sensation suddenly raced over her skin. When she glanced up, Roxy saw him looking at her hard. Powdered sugar coated his lips. Quickly, she turned back to the stove, fiddling with the two eggs sizzling in the frying pan.
What the hell is the matter with me? I just got the strangest urge to lick that white stuff right off his lips and … and what then? Dammit, his grin is just too cute.
"I hope I didn't wake you, Roxy. I tried to be quiet. I'll be doing more banging now that you're up and about."
"That's fine, Jake, because I'll be down by the boathouse reading in the hammock after I finish breakfast, so I won't hear you. I brought manuscripts with me to read by Monday. I'm working today just like you."
"Is that right? What do you do, Roxy? All I knew was that you went to some small college in Pennsylvania."
"I'm a technical editor for a publisher in New York."
"Uh, well, that sounds interesting, I guess."
"It pays the rent," she snapped cryptically and slid the fried eggs onto a plate as the toaster popped. She spread butter on the bread and brought the plate and her coffee mug to the kitchen table. She purposely didn't ask Jake to join her, but left him standing to drink his coffee. She noticed the local weekly lying on the table. "Is this yours, Jake?"
"Um hmm."
"Mind if I read it while I eat my breakfast?"
"Go ahead. Be my guest. I'm going back to work. I'll check with you later, okay?"
She was already flipping open the pages of the newspaper when he put the empty mug in the sink and headed downstairs again. Roxy chewed on her eggs and buttered toast for a minute before she realized what just happened. She and Jake sounded like a married couple having a normal conversation here in the kitchen. This seems really weird, she thought, a light, almost comfortable feeling wended down her spine. Having someone, even Jake, in the house with her this morning—well, was … almost pleasant, untroubled, so … right. She'd lived alone for three years, and it was definitely different having a man to talk to in the morning.
She shook her head and went back to eating. She'd better get that stupid thought washed right out of her hair. No way was she getting mixed up with Jake Plummer, the last Greek god and ladies' man from Miradale High.
* * * *
Jake remembered thinking Roxy looked tired, a bit stressed, when he'd seen her last evening. The commute to New York must be a killer. He was glad he didn't have to make the trip every day. Although, he thought, I may have to traipse into the financial capital of the world if I decide to go back to that kind of work again.
This morning, however, Roxy seemed to have recouped. Her eyes were sparkling, and she even gave him a smile. Probably because of the donuts. But a smile from her was a good sign. Maybe things would get better if he played his cards right. He wanted to spend the rest of the day with her when he finished the plumbing project. Perhaps, he'd ask her to dinner. Or maybe he'd bring a big steak and some salad makings for a barbeque—just the two of them. They could go for a swim while the charcoal burned low. He envisioned her donning one of those eye-popping bikinis.
And afterward, maybe they'd paddle around the lake. Hopefully, later on he'd find his way into her bed, or anyplace she wanted him to make love to her. He'd make damn sure she didn't use that glorified fake cock he'd spotted on her bureau. He didn't want to believe she was the one using it. God, what an awful thought. He shivered, picturing that thing pushing into the slick, wet, softness of her sleek body. If she'd let him, tonight he'd have her smiling and more than that—flying without wings, heading for heaven and outer space. He knew how to drive a woman wild.
Chapter Five
"I'm going to the deli to pick up a sandwich, Roxy," he said when he walked down to the hammock. "What can I bring you?"
"Nothing for me, Jake. There's stuff in the fridge. I usually have yogurt for lunch when I'm working."
"Ugh! That's all? No wonder you're so skinny."
"I was never skinny, Jake. And I'm not skinny now." She rolled out of the hammock and stood up. "See?"
He grabbed the opportunity and reached out to place his big hands on her narrow waist. His fingertips felt like fine sandpaper rubbing against the bare area between the hem of
her abbreviated T-shirt and hip-hugger shorts. His palms were warm, and his hands seemed strong and capable enough do anything that was needed. When Jake gazed down at her, his irises deepened, and she could interpret his thoughts.
"Don't touch me, Jake," she told him sharply, trying to jerk away. "I'd rather you didn't."
He didn't release his hold, it simply tightened.
"I won't hurt you, Roxy, believe me."
"You hurt me once, Jake, and I forgave you once. But there's nothing now between us except a plumbing job, so let's not start anything, okay?"
"I can't believe this. There was always something between us when we were kids, but we never got around finding out what it really was. I know I never forgot you, Roxy. I thought I did, but I knew different when I saw you again last night. I couldn't stop thinking about you when I left here yesterday."
"Was that why you peeked into my bedroom this morning?"
"You knew?"
"I thought so. The same way you used to stare at me in high school."
"I had a … real heavy crush on you, Roxy, but you never gave me a tumble."
"You had plenty of girls hanging on you, Jake. You didn't need me to bolster your male ego."
"Maybe so, but you were the one I wanted. Until you latched onto Robbie. Then I gave up coming onto you. I thought you two were a done deal."
"Robbie and I were friends, that was all. He was going to college, and I was still in high school. I guess it seemed like we were serious, but we weren't. Not ever."
"If I'd known that…"
"It wouldn't have done you any good, Jake." She twisted her face from side-to-side, her shoulder-length tresses swishing with a negative jerk of her head. "And I'm sorry, but it won't do you any good now either."
"Wanna bet?"
She laughed, and tried to pry his fingers away from her waist.
He read it as a challenge.
When she gazed up at him again, something changed; she was no longer so sure she could stay cool and collected with him around. Maybe not even stay away from him. The old attraction to him that seemed to run through her like a live wire was still alive, especially as he bent down to cover her lips with his. She struggled at first, but that didn't last long. The kiss started soft and slow, went on and on, until Jake latched onto her lips as if he were starving. She was suddenly very aware of the intensity of his desire. She felt the bulge in his jeans and knew what he wanted from her. Jake Plummer had almost always gotten what he wanted when he was younger. Probably, she thought, he fully believed he'd get it now. But he was going to get a big surprise.
Roxy inhaled, glad she had grown up. She wasn't an adolescent wanting to succumb to the raw whimsy of a male's libido. She could kick and scream, comman
d him to let her go, or she could give in. It was her decision, and right this minute she was fighting silently, tooth and nail, so as not to give into what she desired. Would it be so bad if she yielded to her needs for a change? She never did find out how it felt to be fucked by Jake Plummer.
She had no idea when her arms crept up and tightened around Jake's neck. She raked his crisp, black hair through her fingers. She leaned up higher, on bare feet, and pressed her breasts against him, harder, teasing her nipples, fitting herself against his long, lean torso. His thick, rigid cock lay hot and heavy against her belly after only a few delicious moments of French kissing. He was still a randy stud, all right, put together with lots of wonderfully interesting masculine bulges and steely muscles. Maybe…
"I think it's time you stopped this, Jake," she said instead, and pulled her lips away from his active, exciting mouth.
"Dammit, Roxy, are you sure? I don't have to go anywhere." His encircling arms still held her close and tight.
She broke away from him at last and stepped back, widening the space between them. She yanked down the hem of her T-shirt where it had crept up to expose her upper ribs. "Yes, I'm sure," she said.
Wiping fingertips across her damp lips, she turned swiftly and picked up the open manuscript she had been reading. "You'd better go get your sandwich, Jake, or you'll never finish fixing those pipes. And you don't have to tramp through the house when you return. The downstairs door to the basement is usually unlocked during the day. I don't know where I'll be when you get back. I think I may go for a sail."
Without looking at him again, Roxy hurried along the path toward the house, leaving Jake wondering how he could get his hands and his mouth on her again.
* * * *
Oh for pete's sake, why did I have to kiss him? Roxy thought.
Her hands were shaking by the time she reached the kitchen. She saw Jake turning the corner of the house, marching toward the driveway where he parked his truck. She threw the manuscript onto the table and grabbed the handle of the refrigerator to get out a container of yogurt. She snapped off the cover, pulled a spoon out of the cutlery drawer, and sat down at the table. Roughly, she plunged the spoon into the gooey stuff, stirred it, then forgot it. She covered her hot cheeks with both hands and closed her eyes, seeing vivid memories playing behind her eyelids.
The Plumber's Helper Page 3