Baby Daddy

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Baby Daddy Page 31

by Lauren Landish


  I grin, knowing I can hold out a little longer and wanting to please this sexy minx at my feet. “Are you wet, Princess? Does letting me fuck your face turn you on?” She nods, never losing pace. “You don’t come till I do, okay? When I come down your pretty little throat, you come with me, but not before.”

  She looks at me with challenge in her eyes and her hand movements get a little faster. Holy fuck, McKayla, you are perfect. “Fuck.” I hammer into her for a few strokes and I’m a goner. “Now, Princess. Swallow me down. Come for me. Now.”

  I explode down her throat, and while she gags a little at the forceful stream, she keeps swallowing, only losing a dribble down her chin. At the same time, her hips buck against her hand as she rides out her own orgasm.

  With a sigh, she sits back onto her heels, taking her hand out of her shorts. “Well, I came here hoping to get one up on you, and there you go making me come again.”

  I grin, seeing the glistening on her fingers, a sudden thirst parching my throat. “I want to taste you.”

  I expect her to reach her juicy hand up to me, but I should’ve known better with McKayla.

  She takes her fingers to her own mouth, licking them clean as I stare at her in amazement. She reaches out for me, and I offer her my hand, helping her stand up.

  Once she’s standing back in the cage of my arms, she kisses me, and I can taste her musky sweetness on her tongue. Goddamn, this woman. She ducks out of my arms and walks a few steps away before turning. “So, thanks again for the car wash. I’m ready to go for another ride whenever you are. I’ll give you a call later and we can plan on when.”

  She steps out of the garage into the sunshine. I stand slack-jawed and confused about what the fuck just happened for a split second before I get my jeans adjusted properly.

  Damned if I’ll be standing here with my cock out in broad daylight, regardless of what just happened.

  TJ steps back out of the office as I do up the last button with a smirk. “Hey, bro, maybe it’s your thing, but you might want to close the garage door next time. I’m sure half of Main Street just saw your little cookie snack.”

  I cut my eyes at him, a momentary flash of pissed off sparking through me, but then I realize that would probably be some fucked up shit if someone did see, and he’s right. Besides, he did just let me get my rocks off during business hours, and he waited inside the office long enough to give me enough ‘privacy’ to finish up. “Yeah, yeah . . . whatever you say, ‘boss’.”

  We both laugh as we look across the street, seeing McKayla almost to the salon. I spot the greasy dark mark along her arm where I helped her stand up.

  I’m afraid there might be some symbolism there, something deep about me leaving my dirty stain on something so clean and pristine, ruining her, but before I can give it too much thought, I turn and get back to work.

  Excerpt: Mr. Fixit

  By Lauren Landish

  Chapter 9 - Caleb

  We walk outside and decide to take my truck to grab dinner. I open the door for her, because my mom raised me right, and then close her in before heading to the driver side. I open up, but as I do, the wind shifts, and I realize I’ve forgotten something. Reaching into my back bench, I grab my little ‘clean bag’ and unzip it. “At least let me put on a clean shirt.”

  “Great, I’m going to dinner with Sasquatch,” Cassie jokes. “You know, I’ve got some perfume in my purse, if you want.”

  “Not in a million years,” I say, reaching behind my neck and pulling my tee over my head. I use it to do a little wipe down over my abs and back, and then I do my pits last before grabbing a small bottle of hand sanitizer, rubbing it up my forearms and over my hands. I look up and realize that Cassie is staring at me, jaw hanging wide open. “See something you like?”

  Cassie shakes herself, seemingly mentally and physically, and grabs my shirt, tossing it at my face. “You wish. Just daydreaming about the house. Now drive!”

  I let her off the hook because she wasn’t thinking about the house. She was thinking about me. I could see it in her eyes. It makes me smile, even if I know she doesn’t really mean anything by it. We’ve been friends for a while now, to the point where we once went on a double date. That was a disaster, though, because my date instantly got jealous of my jokes with Cassie and didn’t get that we just tease each other like that. But seriously, it’s not a big deal. Slipping my clean shirt on, I throw the sweaty one at her as I climb into the truck. She squeals, as expected, and threatens to throw it out her window before tossing it behind her into the back.

  “The usual?” I ask as I crank the engine. The music starts up, and Cassie nods in approval as Disturbed comes on. It’s another thing that I like about Cassie. We both like a lot of different kinds of music so it’s easy to find something we both enjoy. She can appreciate good rock, and I’ve even seen her humming along the few times she’s heard country in my truck.

  “As if there’s any question. Now floor it. I’m getting hungry!” And with that, we head off to her favorite burger joint, a converted train boxcar with outdoor seating that’s about halfway back to town called The Little Diner That Could. Cheesy name, and thankfully, even cheesier burgers. As we pull up out front, she clucks her tongue. “You realize it’s been awhile since we’ve hit this place up?”

  “You’re the one burning the midnight oil on work stuff,” I tease.

  “And you’re the one getting hit on by women old enough to be your mom with cookies and milk,” she says, and I swear I’m going to kill Mindy or Oliver. How many other people know about my customers doing that?

  “Actually, recently, it’s been lemonade.”

  “Lemonade and chocolate chip cookies? Revolting!”

  “Peanut butter,” I protest, grimacing. Yeah, chocolate and lemonade are not a good mix at all. “Come on, let’s eat.”

  I’m glad Cassie likes her burgers because I’m fucking starving. She can put away a burger almost as fast as I can. Her only bad habit is that she dips her fries in a chocolate milkshake. Disgusting, but it’s her favorite so I just don’t watch.

  Walking into the diner, we grab our usual table in the corner where the breeze is at its strongest and wave at the waitress. A few minutes later, as we pick up our big, juicy burgers, I pause, holding it up like a drink. “And a toast—to Miss Cassie White . . . on a deal closed, on a project to be completed, on a first gig all to herself. You’re gonna kill it!”

  “And to my grunting caveman, whom I know I’m going to bug the shit out of as I get the place redone,” Cassie says, raising her burger. We bump burgers in a slight mash of bacon, cheese, bread, and beef, but that’s us. So what if it’s not champagne? I ain’t a champagne kinda guy. Burger toasts seem just about right for us.

  “So, what do you think?” Cassie says before she takes a huge bite of her burger. She’s somehow able to fit more food in her mouth than a girl her size should even attempt.

  “Your manners are still horrible,” I tease, taking advantage of the fact that she’s got so much food in her mouth she can neither blow a raspberry nor stick her tongue out at me. “If you mean the house, I think I know some ways to shave a little off the repair bill.”

  “Really?” Cassie half mumbles before swallowing. “Caleb, I appreciate that, but I don’t want to shortchange the house.”

  “It’s not shortchanging,” I say around a half mouthful of my own burger. “But there are still ways we can get better profits without hurting the renovations. I was thinking . . . you mentioned in your spiel this morning that the place will probably need new appliances, right?”

  “Yeah,” Cassie says, dipping a fry and noshing on it open-mouthed, smiling. If her lips weren’t so damn cute, I’d be upset. As it is, I’m still disturbed. “What, you know a guy who knows a guy?”

  “Actually, we both know the guy,” I tell her. “I had to pull a water heater from one of Oliver’s properties two weeks ago. Nothing wrong with the thing. It was brand new when the old owners sold the pro
perty, but it just wasn’t big enough for a duplex. Oliver had me yank it, and I’ve got it at my place, waiting for the scrap guy. But . . .”

  “Caleb, you keep this up and I’m gonna kiss you,” Cassie says before blushing. “I mean, I’ll let you give me a back massage.”

  “Uh-huh,” I say, hiding my surprise at her choice of words. “Oh, one thing, though, and this is non-negotiable.”

  “What’s that?” Cassie asks warily, taking another bite of burger. “I’m glad to pay.”

  “No, not that. If I’m going to keep my other customers happy, Oliver happy, and somehow get that house done before you’re ready to retire, it’s going to mean working weekends. And not farting around for a few hours Saturday morning and then cutting out to go shopping type of work. I mean getting down and dirty for eight hours a day on weekends. But I want you there helping, either as my assistant or as my gopher.”

  “Gopher?” Cassie asks. “Hey, I’ll have you know that the braces cured that very well!”

  I shake my head, laughing. “That’s not what I mean. I mean if there’s something you can’t really help me with, you can be ready to get me any tools I need.”

  Cassie nods. “I know what you meant. This is my first solo project, and I have money riding on this just like Oliver does. What do you think I’m going to do, sit at home while you do everything? But are you sure about working weekends? Don’t you have plans?”

  “Don’t have much going on right now,” I admit.

  Cassie looks at me in surprise. “What about that brunette you picked up at the grocery store? She looked very interested in you.”

  I laugh ruefully. “Susannah? We went out twice. Then she bought me a candle. Patchouli, with a picture of a kitten on the thing. Noped the fuck outta that quick, fast, and in a hurry.”

  Cassie bursts out laughing. “Over a candle? You ditched her over a candle? I mean, it’s a pretty horrible idea for a candle, but to break up with her over it?”

  I chuckle, shrugging. “It’s a power move. She’s trying to girly up my place so that when someone else comes over, she’s marked her territory. I am not getting tied up like that.”

  “Not tied up like that, but how about other ways? I might have some pink fluffy handcuffs just your size. And I damn sure know how to use silk ropes,” she says as she licks her straw. “You’d be sure to enjoy it.”

  I smirk. That’s the Cassie I’ve come to know and appreciate. I just have to make sure I don’t end up with milkshake on my head. Instead, I give her a wink. “Now that, I might consider. Depends on what you’re gonna do if I were at your mercy?”

  Cassie looks me in the eye with a glint of mischievousness and takes a long draw of her shake, hollowing her cheeks. She swallows with an audible gulp and then licks her lips to catch a tiny drop left in the center of her top lip. I can’t help it. My eyes widen and I feel my cock swell in my jeans, and I know I’m in trouble. I mean, I’ve always known Cassie was cute, but now . . . goddammit, I’m in trouble if she’s just joking.

  Cassie waits just a beat and then speaks up “Game. Set. Match. Winner, Cassie White. And the crowd goes wild.” She mimics a crowd cheering. Dammit, I should have known she was still being a wiseass.

  Chapter 10 - Cassie

  As the water splashes over my shoulders, easing away the stress and excitement of the day, I sigh gratefully. I’ve always been a nighttime shower girl. Glad I’m not a man who needs to shave in the morning. I like being able to roll out of bed fifteen minutes before I have to go if need be. Not to mention, the warmth and massaging pulse of the water hitting me in that perfect spot between the base of my neck and my shoulder blades is one of the best ways to relax me enough to sleep. And other places, sometimes.

  And boy, did I have a day that has me both keyed up and exhausted. I review the meeting with the homeowner in my head as I pick up my washcloth and start scrubbing down my body. It couldn’t have gone better, and I don’t think I could’ve gotten a better deal. As soon as I got the man’s number on how much he paid his brother to take the property off his hands, I upped it by only ten percent, and he accepted. Even with that, I’m going to get the house for at least thirty percent under local market value.

  It needs a lot of work, though, and I’m gonna need Caleb for most of the projects. I’ll have to get him to block out his schedule for several weeks so that we can hit the market before summer ends. He’s going to be a lifesaver, and ‘Mr. Fix-It’ could just be my ticket to turning this project into something that’ll make me feel good and give me a little money to top it off. I know I teased him tonight—I always do—but I don’t think I could do this without him.

  As I think about Caleb, I flash back to when he walked into the house tonight. I know I gave him a little look about showing up like that, but holy fuck, he was walking sex on a stick. I know some women like clean-cut, suit-and-tie kinda guys, but not me. Give me the man who doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty any day, his hair messed up from hard work and a day’s worth of stubble shadowing his cheeks, and I’m just about ready to fall back and spread my legs. Add in smelling like he just spent the past eight hours busting his ass and is ready to spend some well-deserved downtime with his woman? Oh, fuck, yes.

  When Caleb took his shirt off, I almost drooled down my chin. I know he works out a lot. Hell, we’ve gone for runs together most Sundays since I got on a health kick a while back. The healthy eating might not have stuck because burgers are the angels’ sustenance, but the runs are awesome. But runs don’t give you a damn eight-pack. Yes, eight. I know because I’ve counted them.

  Twice.

  Okay, maybe more. But the fact is, when I’m holding my sides and trying to keep myself from hurling because I’ve spent the past three miles trying to keep up with a guy easily a foot taller than me, and I need something to distract myself from the pain in my sides, Caleb’s stomach is an easy target.

  That’s the way we’ve always been. I think it’s an outgrowth of our first encounters as adversaries. What started out in open competition has transformed, and I like Caleb. But we’ve always teased each other mercilessly, and sometimes, even folks around us think we’re a couple, but we’ve never taken it to that point. It’s just the way we communicate, an evolution of the trash talking we used to do. Now, it’s just sexy banter.

  That doesn’t stop the secret that I’ve kept hidden for the past couple of months, that deep down, I think Caleb is one of the sexiest guys I’ve ever seen. Caleb Strong sends my pussy into overdrive sometimes, and right now, I’m thinking that what Caleb doesn’t know won’t hurt him. With a grin, I start to move my hands over my body, tracing across my collarbones and down the outer edges of my breasts. I’ve always been a girl who loves her breasts played with, even if they’re not big. A man who can give my breasts proper attention can make me melt like caramel.

  Slowly circling toward my nipples, pretending it's Caleb’s slightly calloused hands on me, I close my eyes and let the warm water add to my fantasy. I move my hands slowly, taking my time as my right hand plays with my nipples. “Oh, God . . .” I moan, pulling on my nipples slowly, rolling them between my fingers and feeling the tingle rush down my body all the way to my toes. “Mmm, that’s so good, Caleb. So good.”

  I stroke my other hand down my stomach, finding the wet curls at the top of my pussy. My fingernails scrape lightly over the soft hairs, down to my pussy, lightly cupping myself. I start rubbing, letting my fingers massage my soft outer lips, leaning back against the tiles of the shower as I slide a finger between.

  “That’s it, slide it in deep,” I moan as I slip two fingers inside me. In my mind, I can see the steely tension of his forearm as he starts pumping his long, sensitive fingers in and out of me. The first things I noticed about Caleb—well, after his body—were his hands. They show such brute power, but I’ve seen his attention to detail and how graceful his calloused hands can be.

  I roll my thumb, brushing it over my clit as in my mind, Caleb’s abs flex like the
y did when he was reaching to grab his fresh shirt. I can almost smell the honest, manly scent of him. He’s not one for body washes or exfoliating cleansers. Give Caleb Strong a bar of Irish Spring, and he’ll come out looking and smelling like a god. My pussy throbs as my thumb works with my fingers, clenching and tightening, wishing it was him I was feeling. I take a deep breath, remembering how his shirt smelled like him—earthy, manly, with a hint of sawdust. Rubbing faster, I imagine him in little pink fluffy handcuffs and smile, but when I realize he’s all mine to tease any way I want, I fall off the cliff into my orgasm before I even touch the imaginary him in my mind. “Oh, fuck,” I moan as my pussy tightens around my fingers and my ass starts thumping into the tile of my shower. “Yes, that’s it, Caleb, make your baby come.”

  The world gets swimmy, and after a moment where I might’ve actually blacked out, I return to the shower and finish washing up. This summer might be the best of my life. I’m going to get to spend hours a day with Caleb, getting all the eye candy I could ever dream of. I promise myself, as I pull my pajamas on and put on my hairband to get ready for bed, that I’m going to make the most of it, teasing him while getting plenty of footage for my internal pleasure memories. “I’m gonna make you hard enough you won’t need a hammer to drive in any nails.” I chuckle before yawning. “See you soon.”

  I’m asleep before my head even hits the pillow.

  Chapter 11 - Caleb

  I sit in my truck, wiping my forehead with a towel as the air conditioner roars. I don’t mind working up a sweat, it’s part of my work, but damn if I don’t enjoy the feeling of a strong blast of chilly air after I get done with the day.

  Things weren’t too bad today. Everything was relatively routine. I had to rewire a garage, dropping in a new garage door opener and putting in another outlet to allow a chest freezer to be installed. Thank God I didn’t have to shove that fucker inside.

 

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