The Plumber's Helper

by Blaise Kilgallen

When Roxy and Jake finished eating, they cleaned up the kitchen together. Jake opened the wine and poured them a full glass to take with them to lounge out on the patio. The moon was full; making outside almost as bright as day. Its silvery beams washed over the slate terrace. The two gravitated toward the double chaise and lay down side-by-side, relaxed. Long moments of silence seemed to stretch across the chaise, sexual attraction pulling at them.

  "Roxy…"

  "Jake…"

  Each laughed, somewhat uneasily.

  Jake was the first to turn on his side and reach out to touch her cheek. She responded by facing him, smiling. "It's nice here, Jake, isn't it?"

  "Yeah. Especially when I'm lying beside you."

  Simmering like low flames in their guts, both felt a keen need to touch, kiss, re-ignite the burning magnetism flaring out of control whenever they came together. It never seemed to diminish. The silence between them lingered and grew a bit uncomfortable while each waited to take the next step.

  Jake couldn't help himself. He leaned closer. His palm drifted down over her breasts, caressing the flexible mounds under the thin robe. He trailed fingers to her waist and pulled her close. They lay pasted together.

  Roxy's eyes roved over Jake's face, her expression watchful, seeking to learn what Jake was feeling. But he wasn't that transparent. She read nothing there except the flames of lust lurking in the darkness of his pupils. And she knew the same desire would be reflected in hers. Roxy's eyelids drifted shut.

  Feeling amorous again, which seemed to be the case whenever he was with her, Jake kissed Roxy's forehead and traced her silky eyebrows with the tip of his tongue. They nuzzled noses. He pulled back and gently traced along her lip line and to the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were closed, but she smiled.

  "What are you smiling about?" he asked in a teasing whisper.

  "You, Jake," she said, opening her eyes and looking straight at him. "Right now, I've got everything to smile about."

  "Why is that, Roxy?"

  "Because I like being with you." Her smile was warm, truthful. "And I asked you to stay for the weekend … and you said you would. Just maybe, you'll make love to me again. And tomorrow night, too…"

  "Yeah, I promised I would, didn't I? We can spend the entire weekend in bed if you want."

  "Hmm … it sounds marvelous."

  He bent toward her lips again, and she was eager to kiss him back.

  Their encounters seemed to turn into hot, breathless, devouring sex instead of affection. She and Jake hadn't kissed that often. This time he kissed her long and soft before pushing his tongue between her lips and thrusting deep. Their tongues whirled in an exotic dance, one first taking the lead, the other following until they changed places. Arousal between them escalated.

  Jake had been the dominant partner, but abruptly, Roxy rolled over on top of him, straddling his hips. She leaned forward and pressed torrid kisses on his bare chest.

  "Whoa, whoa there, Roxy!" he said, pulling away from her amorous advances.

  "You don't like that, Jake?"

  The flames of desire in his eyes were shuttered behind half lowered eyelids, but there was a peculiar smile hovering over his smug, male facade.

  "Oh yeah, I like. But I thought I was supposed to get you in trade."

  "Yes, I suppose so…"

  "Then how come we changed places?" he asked.

  She just smiled without giving him a straight answer.

  He was wise enough to interpret her look. "Aha! You want to be in charge, huh? Then if that's so … do your damndest, Rox. My body is yours to do with whatever you want."

  "Then it's okay that I make love to you instead the other way around?"

  "Shit, yes."

  "Then let's kiss some more first."

  She longed for kisses with more of a touch of caring in them. Roxy was moving atop Jake, her cunt rubbing against the waistband of his Dockers. Her robe had split open down the front, exposing the valley between her breasts, not protecting her clit from abrasion. She felt her cunt pulsing with heat as her legs were spread farther apart. She knew she was leaving a wet trail across his naked torso. She knew the direction in which they were headed, but she wanted to make love to him before then.

  "Wanna go back to bed?" he murmured, teasing a fingertip across one of her nipples, seeing it was already hard.

  "The air is warm, the moonlight is beautiful, and it's nice here. I'd rather not go inside yet."

  "Okay. Whatever you say, Rox."

  She grabbed the initiative. She moved back and forth, playing sensuously with his mouth and nibbling along his bottom lip with her teeth when she felt him smile.

  He was growing more interested and sat up a little straighter. "Kiss me as much and often as you want, Roxy," he said.

  "Well, thanks, plumber man." She licked some more over his mouth.

  "I'll never refuse you," he said.

  She chortled, sitting down on his hips. Now she scratched a tickling index fingernail over his chest muscles, seeing them twitch under her touch. She moved her palms over his bare skin. "I do like kissing you, Jake. And touching you. You feel so smooth, so powerful." She leaned down and touched her lips to one of his nipples. "Only you can decide whether you like it or not."

  His nipple rose like a hard, brown pebble on his pectoral muscle.

  "Do you?" She rubbed a fingertip over the other one. "Tell me."

  Roxy wanted more enchantment, more caring, in their lovemaking. She didn't want to be simply a body in which Jake could satisfy his male hunger. She thought if she made love to him, if he cared about her, even if they were only friends, maybe something might blossom and grow between them. She'd been rebuffed by Grady more than once after they'd been married. If Jake laughed at her because of her wanton aggression, she would die of humiliation. She remembered how she had rejected his lovemaking a decade ago.

  His response now was very gratifying.

  "I like making love to you, Jake," she said.

  "Okay, but it's killing me, Rox, that I can't seem to get enough of you." He tugged at the belt of her robe, opening it and placing a warm, smoothing palm on her belly. Before long, his hand drifted lower. "Want me to stroke you down here?"

  "No. I want you to stop for a while. I owe you, Jake. Fair is fair."

  When his hand stopped moving, his abrupt, answering retort was sharp-edged. "What do you mean, fair is fair? Dammit, you don't owe me a thing, Rox. What the hell are you saying?" He glanced up at her, an unwanted idea crossing his shadowy features. "Holy shit! If you're making love to me so my damn plumbing bill is paid for, you can damn well stop it right now."

  Without thinking, she knew she'd made a terrible mistake. Her careless remark had totally damaged their former closeness. Everything about him bristled. Jake had always exuded confidence, even as a teenager, so sure of himself. There were odd times though, when she had glimpsed his vulnerability, his uncertainty.

  "Are we passing out I.O.U.'s?" His once smooth brow furrowed. "Since when do we add up times on a scoreboard or an invoice? Are you tallying who wins and who loses?

  Waves of male pride crackled over him like frayed electric wires.

  "Jake, I didn't mean anything like that. What I said—the way it came out—well, you started it with your joking about trading payments, but…"

  "It was a joke," he growled. "What's the matter with you?" Then he blustered. "Don't I measure up to your ex-husband's kisses? What the hell are we talking about here?" He jerked, sitting up on the chaise, his back ramrod straight, brushing her out of the way as he reached for his unfinished glass of wine. He downed it with several swift swallows.

  "Besides, you're acting like a paid floozy, Roxy!" he snarled then clammed up.

  "And you're acting like a spoiled brat, Jake. What's the matter with you?"

  "Me? Weren't you going to offer me a free blow job like a…?"

  "What!" Her exclamation thundered across the still night.

  She moved like lightning and st
ruck him across the face, slapping his cheek with resounding force. The sharp clap echoed loud and fast across the quiet water of the cove. Almost as quickly, Roxy hurled herself upward, throwing her legs over her side of the chaise. "Don't you ever say anything like that to me Jake Plummer!" she yelled at him, her cheeks sizzling with heat.

  He had some hell of a nerve. Dammit, she thought. I should've slapped the S.O.B. harder.

  She stood beside the chaise and glowered down at him, anger shooting from her squinted eyes. She was embarrassed, angry, and hurt, so much so that she was breathing very hard, her chest rising precipitously, her fists clenched next to her hips. She thought smoke had to be coming out of her ears she was so mad at him.

  Jake simply rubbed his face where it stung from her unexpected blow. His dark eyes blinked rapidly with a mixture of surprise and fury. He said nothing, didn't look at her.

  Oh God, she thought. I can't believe this. What's going on with Jake and me?

  She inhaled, sucking air deeply into her lungs, forcing herself to calm down, wiping her flushed cheeks with open palms the way Jake had done. Then she screwed up her courage. "Jake, look at me, dammit," she ordered. She reached out and grabbed his chin, pulling his face toward hers. He shrugged her hand off and stood abruptly, towering above her.

  "Don't get on your stupid high horse with me, plumber man," Roxy said, her voice tight, her emotions leashed as she stared up at him. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but you get what you deserve when you call me nasty names." She paused briefly, her voice harsh, coated with ice. "So, when you send a bill, you needn't worry. There'll be a check in the mail."

  Silence was deafening around them. It dripped with icicles.

  "And I think now … we're even," Roxy finished, her tone low and frosted.

  Jake tore his eyes away from her and stared hard at the flagstones. "Yeah, we're even." His reply was less emotional than hers. He glanced up at her again, finally. His eyes had become unreadable, and his tone was cool, untainted with either remorse or anger. "It's getting chilly out here. Whadda ya say, we hit the hay?"

  "Fine, I'm ready for bed. I'll make up the living room couch for you, Jake."

  "The couch?"

  "We need a break. I think we need to get our priorities straight."

  "Roxy…"

  "I mean it, Jake. It's that, or you can leave now."

  "Okay, okay," he grumbled.

  It was just too damn bad if he didn't like it, she thought.

  * * * *

  Jake had cooled down, too, after their little argument. If that was what it was. He realized he'd been stupid to shoot his mouth off at Roxy, but there was no way he would apologize. At least not yet.

  He removed everything except his skivvies and tried to make himself comfortable on the pullout couch. Trouble was, the sofa wasn't nearly as comfortable as Roxy's big bed in the back room. That was where he wanted to be, not here in the middle of the great room by his lonesome. Shaking his head, he rose and padded barefoot into the kitchen. He pulled open the refrigerator and stood there, raking fingers through his hair and scowling at the half empty shelves, not sure what he wanted. Was he hungry or thirsty?

  Yeah, sure, both, but nothing I want is in the freakin' fridge.

  He reached for a cold can of beer and closed the door. He flipped open the can, his feet rooted to the kitchen floor, and poured the golden, cold liquid down his throat, gulping down several big mouthfuls. When it was empty, he looked at the can, crushed the pliable aluminum between his strong fingers, and tossed it into the waste bin. He grabbed two more cans out of the refrigerator and carried them into the living room with him. He lined them up on the table beside him in easy reach of his hand and lounged against the back of the convertible couch. Stretching out full length, he wiggled his toes, crossed his ankles, and stared moodily at the moonlit lake through the floor-to-ceiling bank of picture windows. He'd spelled out in black and white to Roxy what she and his relationship—if you can call it that—would be. She should have believed him when he hinted it was temporary when he said he wasn't the marrying kind.

  He rolled a curse around in his mouth and spit it out. Fuck! What's going on with her and me, anyway? If the little tease doesn't want to make love—well, I sure won't beg her for it.

  While he mused, he realized he had probably got the better half of the deal. After they made love, Roxy had been ready to play any game he wanted. He felt himself grin, even if he was still annoyed with her, remembering how she'd decorated herself with the grape jelly. He even chuckled. There were a few more places she could have smeared on peanut butter, too, if she'd been a bit more adventurous. He always loved peanut butter and jelly as a kid.

  Tonight, however, his ego had gotten in the way. He should have known she was fooling. Still he had pulled a sulk. How in hell was he going to convince her to keep playing the game now?

  He scratched his groin, nudged his cock which was at half mast even after he'd swilled a couple of fast beers, and leaned his head against the couch. Though he wasn't a bit sleepy, he closed his eyes, seeing pictures of Roxy naked and asleep in her bed.

  A little woozy after the large glass of wine and the two and a half beers he drank so quickly, his thoughts dwelled on his affair with Roxy Diamond. It would probably end after Labor Day, two weeks from now, when her parents returned. Everything would return to normal. He still hadn't made up his mind if the financial world had anything new to offer him in the way of employment, or if he'd keep on plumbing. Maybe they'd get together, go on a date sometime where Roxy worked and lived.

  Shit! I'm not sure I want that.

  He rolled his head against the couch and opened his eyes. It was damn unfortunate that he hadn't gotten Roxanne Diamond out of his system. He wondered if she was ready to call it quits after tonight.

  He was working on his third can of beer, the smooth, golden liquid rapidly running down his throat with the usual ease. The alcohol was having some affect.

  Damn. Right now I'm getting loaded, and I'm so wired I'd fuck a tree. Or maybe the little bugger that's hiding in the tree trunk. Slowly rising to his bare feet, Jake found himself wobbling, trying to maintain his balance as he paced the great room erratically—without real purpose. He'd never felt like this before, so itchy and mindless—besides being slightly soused. By now, he should know how to calm down: slide into first base with a willing female. But when he thought about it, he didn't want to shove into anyone but Roxy.

  Oh shit! This is really stupid! he thought. Don't tell me I've fallen for her?

  Jake paused in his wild ramblings. He really had to pee. He headed for the bathroom outside Roxy's bedroom.

  Uh oh. Bad move. She had left her bedroom door open. He hesitated, but nature had the first call, and he ducked into the tiled bathroom and shut the door. When he finished pissing, he flushed the john and left, pausing in the hallway.

  * * * *

  Roxy's eyes flew open. She had only been drowsing, but now she was wide awake.

  Is Jake coming into my room?

  She had told him categorically there'd be no more sex between them. Had she been sending him mixed signals? Or was it because she felt mixed up and confused? Her body desperately wanted him, his caresses, his kisses, his passionate lovemaking, but her mind told her to slow down and think about it before she threw herself at him. Had she really fallen in love with him? She didn't bother lying to herself. She'd never fallen so fast before—or so hard—for anyone but Jake.

  Roxy didn't move, but she sensed Jake approaching the bed with almost silent footfalls. There he halted. Her heartbeat sped up; every sense alive and vibrating. She wasn't sure what to do. Should she sit up and say, "Okay, Jake, I was wrong. Come on in bed with me." Or should she pretend to be asleep? Maybe he'd turn around and go back to the couch where she'd left him. Or she could just stop him and yell, "Get out of here, Jake, leave me alone, and go to sleep."

  She chose to pretend she was asleep. Actually, she wanted to roll over and greet hi
m with open arms. But no. He'd been miffed about what she said, and she hadn't liked what he said to her. So, yeah, they were even.

  It's best to let him be, let him sleep it off and see if either of us can forget it.

  It might be a perfect time to get her body and her brain back in sync, see where this little affair was going, if anywhere. But how the hell could she know what she truly wanted when it wasn't clear? She lay there quiet, scarcely breathing, her body humming, tingling with unvarnished desire for him.

  * * * *

  Jake wanted more than anything to reach for her, pull her under his eager body and cover her with kisses. Instead, he clenched his fists, aligning them next to his hips.

  "Did you change your mind about having sex?"

  He spoke loud enough to wake her if she'd been asleep.

  Slowly turning toward him, Roxy forced herself to reply in the negative. "As much as it pains me to repeat myself, Jake, the answer is still no."

  "Shit!"

  "Go wash your mouth out," she said, tucking the thin blanket up under her armpits.

  He plopped down, not gently, on the mattress next to her.

  She squirmed away from him.

  "Stopping running away from me, Rox," he said, his voice rough and demanding. "If you want hands off and only kissing for the duration, that's fine by me. I'll try, but I'm not sure I can keep that promise."

  "Don't threaten me, Jake, or we can finish this right here and now. None of it should have started again anyhow. We're not kids anymore; we know better. I know that now."

  "Are you sure about that, Roxy?"

  "I'm sure," she said. "I have to be."

  "I happen to think you're wrong. Really wrong."

  He leaned over and grabbed her by the upper arms. His fingers were strong and could have easily bruised her when he pulled her up into his arms. But she didn't fight him. In the soft glimmer from the nightlight Roxy was aware of the tense expression on his face, felt his chest pumping hard and quick as he breathed. She inhaled a tiny whiff of his beer breath. "Jake, you're drunk. I think you should stay away from me. And don't kiss me."

  Her hands rose between them and she pushed at his shoulders. His skin was hot, sweaty; powerful muscles flexing beneath her palms.