Mr. Fixit

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Mr. Fixit Page 10

by Lauren Landish


  I don’t want to think about the expiration date of our arrangement. I know it’ll be hard to ever top it, so I’m gonna enjoy the fuck out of it while I can. Caleb is a total commitment-phobe guy, but surely, he won’t stay that way forever. I get it, some girl in his past burned him badly. He mentioned her name in passing once, but I forget it now. But he’s too damn decent and sweet to be a casual guy forever. He’s going to get swept up in some woman’s web, and that’ll be the end of our fuck-buddy setup. I just hope that when that happens, we stay friends. I’d really hate to lose our friendship over some jealous bitch who can’t handle his having a friend with a vagina. Admittedly, the fact that he knows that vagina intimately might be a bit of a complicating factor, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

  As I jog to our meeting point in the park, I see Caleb from afar. He’s stretching, lunging deeply, sticking his ass out behind him, and I wish for a second that I were behind him to give a little smack.

  As I stare, I see a gorgeous, lithe blonde bounce up to him. Her ponytail and tits bounce in time to her little jog in place, and I instantly hate her. She’s taller than me, with either the world’s best sports bra or gravity-defying tits that somehow aren’t flopping around even though she’s showing at least half of those cantaloupes off.

  I can’t hear them, but see her lips move, saying something to Caleb, and his face lights up into a bright smile as he talks back. They’re flirting. He’s flirting. Oh, fuck this!

  I start to speed up to claim my territory . . . back off, Blondie Bitch. I take about four steps before I stop with a thunk in my heart. Shit, I can’t do that. That’s not what we are. He’s not mine to get all territorial over. We said that we’d be just buddies, working off the sexual needs without the relationship bullshit. But there’s no denying to myself that I’m jealous as fuck.

  As I struggle inside, I see her pull her phone out of her cleavage . . . really, bitch, that is just unsanitary! She types something, and Caleb looks down at his phone, holding it up to show he got her message. With a prissy little wave, she bounces off, and I want to swing her around by her ponytail so damn badly.

  I squash the feeling down, jogging up to Caleb. He gives me the same smile, but a little side hug of greeting, which somehow hurts. Flirting with boobs in your face, but I get a side hug? Damn, that’s some cold shit, Caleb.

  He doesn’t notice and steps back, giving me his normal casual smile. “What are you feeling today? Same path as usual?”

  Usual? I’m going to need something a little more intense after seeing that. “Actually, maybe something a little different. I’ve got some pent-up energy I need to work out.”

  “Mmm, pent-up energy, huh? I know just the thing,” Caleb says, making me feel even worse. He’s just trying to have fun, and that’s all I am, fun. He goes to grab my ponytail, my limp ass ponytail I messily gathered at the nape of my neck before heading out this morning. It feels flat compared to Blondie Bitch. I pull back, all of my swirling emotions turning into a snippy anger.

  “Whatever, Old Man . . . just try to keep up.” I sprint away down the path, and Blondie had better hope she’s a fast runner. I might just put a foot up her ass the way I’m feeling. It’s only seconds before I hear Caleb’s footsteps fall in next to mine, but I keep my eyes forward.

  We run in silence for a while, pacing each other easily. I have no plan other than to run my jealousy out before I talk to him. As we pass a playground, I gesture to turn off into the dirt path through the woods because I need another mile at least to get my game face on. As we dip behind the dense tree line, there’s a sudden wash of quiet and peace as the forest surrounds us. Slowing down to account for the rougher terrain, our breathing evens out.

  “So, what’s with you this morning? Decide to train for a marathon you forgot to tell me about? I thought I was going to have to wave the white flag back there. You almost dropped me.”

  I shrug, not daring to look at him. “Take a break if you need to. I can meet you for brunch if you want. Or maybe you have other plans?”

  I try to say it casually, but it sounds a lot bitchier than I intended. Caleb jogs a couple more steps then hops in front of me, forcing me to stop with his hands on my shoulders. “What’s going on? What the hell did that mean?”

  I refuse to meet his eyes, looking away into the woods, because if I look him in the eye right now, I’m not sure what he’ll see. Anger? Hurt? Sadness? Whatever it is, it’s not part of our agreement and not what I should be feeling. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  Caleb grabs my chin and gently brings my eyes to his, and I find myself lost in his eyes instantly. I can’t help it. He’s so handsome, and the way he’s looking at me right now, it’s stirring me up inside. “If it’s one thing I know, it’s that when a woman says things are ‘fine’, it means things most definitely are not fine. What’s going on?”

  I sigh and shake my head, forcing nonchalance into my voice. “It’s really nothing, Caleb. Everything’s okay. I just saw you talking to Blondie Bitch and thought maybe you’d want to have brunch with her. It’s all right if you do. I’ve got stuff to do at home anyway.”

  Caleb gives me an appraising look, then laughs. “You’re jealous. You’re fucking jealous!”

  I scowl, trying not to punch him in the gut to hide my embarrassment. “I’ll admit I had a little flash of insecurity at the perkiness of her ponytail, but she’s beautiful. Make sure you ask her what shampoo she uses for me when you talk to her again, ‘kay?”

  It’s killing me to say it, but he’s gonna move on eventually anyway. Maybe sooner is better than later, less painful at least. Caleb, though, is smiling at me like I’m saying something hilarious. “Cass—”

  I cut him off, drowning in a storm of emotions that I have no idea where they’re coming from. I just really want him to go away. I’m not used to feeling this, and I don’t want to make things worse. But at the same time, the idea of his leaving just makes me more miserable. “Really. I need to do laundry anyway if I want underwear to wear to work Monday.”

  Caleb steps closer, crowding me with his body, making me step back off the trail and into the trees. I stumble slightly, slipping on the pine needles, and any second now, I know I’m going to be trapped against a tree. Caleb, though, just keeps looking at me with those eyes of his, his freshly trimmed jawline tight and so kissable. “Cass . . . stop talking. I don’t want Blondie Bitch, as you called her. Where do you come up with these names?”

  I think he’s asking rhetorically, not really wanting an answer, so for a change, I do as he asks and shut up. Besides, I’m trying not to fall on my ass.

  Caleb continues. “Her name’s Brittany, and she just started talking to me and was nice. I didn’t see the need to stomp on her feelings, so I gave her my snapchat and she sent me a friend request. I’ll just decline it later and no harm, no foul.”

  “You mean you’re not going to see her? Why? I mean, did you see her fucking ponytail? I was serious about that. I really do need to know what shampoo she uses.” I’m trying desperately to backpedal, joke, and lighten this up before my jealousy goes and fucks up a good thing. I can’t believe I got jealous. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “You know my favorite kind of ponytail?” Caleb says, his voice dropping to a sexy growl that freezes me in my tracks. He steps closer, reaching behind me and wrapping my decidedly less glamorous tangle around his fist. He looks me dead in the eye, compelling me to meet his eyes. He pulls on my hair, forcing my chin to lift. Right before he kisses my neck, I hear him growl, “Your ponytail . . . it’s like a fucking handle just for me to pull you right where I want you.”

  He uses my hair to gently guide my head back and forth, kissing and licking the saltiness from my neck and sending my heart hammering, heat flooding my body. I can’t help it. I moan as he licks up the side of my neck before tracing my ear. His lips right on my ear, he whispers, “Turn around, hands on the tree.”

  Instantly, I obey him. Who the fuck am I
and who does he think he is? I don’t know, but my pussy knows exactly who is because I feel the gush of my juices at his command. Still holding my hair, he kisses my shoulders, his other hand tracing my curves, tickling along the side of my left breast. Lightly, he pulls my hair, forcing an arch in my back, my ass pressing into his groin, and I feel his cock, hard and ready. I’m really making him that hard looking the way I am when he saw Blondie fewer than twenty minutes ago? Talk about a boost to your ego. I groan, wanting to feel more, wanting him to fill me, and he grinds against me, the layers of clothing feeling like too much, keeping us apart.

  Caleb growls into my ear, amused. “Did I hear you right? Are you saying that you’re going commando in these little shorts that damn near show a peek of your delicious ass with every step you take?”

  Embarrassingly, I whimper and nod. I know, I’m terrible with laundry. Twelve work outfits, eight sets of undies. The math doesn’t work out. Caleb groans sexily and grinds his cock harder against my ass, his voice raspy. “You’re killing me, Cass. I didn’t know your sweet little pussy was just a slip of fabric away. Naughty girl.”

  Before I can even process what his calling me naughty does to my body, he smacks my ass hard with his hand. I cry out, but it’s not in pain. Just a delicious sting that makes my pussy clench. I arch again, silently begging him to do it again.

  “Mmm, I think you like that, don’t you? Are you wet for me? Your sweet little pussy is dripping for me, isn’t it? Right out here where anyone could see? Show me, baby.”

  I let go of the tree with one hand, moving to pull my shorts down. The air is cool on my ass, and goosebumps break out on my skin, immediately flaring to immense heat. I catch a glimpse of Caleb’s eyes as he takes me in. He’s primal, sexual, dominating, and intense. I couldn’t tell him no right now even if I wanted, which I don’t. I’m absolutely ready for whatever he’s got in mind. When I get to mid-thigh, he stops me. “That’s enough. Spread a little for me, but don’t stretch out your shorts or you’ll be going home naked.”

  The shorts hold me virtually locked tight, barely able to make room for Caleb’s hand as he cups my pussy. “Mmm, I knew it, you are soaked. You want me to make you come right here, don’t you? In the woods where someone could come by any second and see how bad you are?”

  “Yes,” I barely whimper as he moves behind me, grinding against my ass as his fingers find entrance to my hot pussy. He pushes a single finger in and out, and I moan a little more loudly than I should out here. It’s not his cock, but it’s Caleb, and he feels so damn good that my arms are already trembling.

  “Not too loudly,” Caleb rasps hotly in my ear. He wiggles his finger, stretching me a little before adding a second, and starts pumping them in and out, making my toes curl inside my shoes. “I’m gonna finger-fuck you and you’re gonna come all over my hand. But you’ve got to be quiet. Can you do that for me, Cass?”

  All I can do is nod. I’m helpless to form any words. I feel him smile against my hair as he continues to fuck me with his thick fingers, speeding up and slowing down at his whim, leaving me breathless each time. As he curls them forward to brush against my g-spot, I have to bite my lip to muffle my cries. He moves his slippery fingers up toward my clit, circling all around it but not quite where I need him. I move my hips, chasing his finger, trying to guide him where I want him. Suddenly, his hand delivers another spank to my bare cheek, and I know that one will leave a handprint.

  “You’re not in charge here. I’ll rub your clit when I’m ready, you hear me? Be still and enjoy the ride. Or I’ll stop.” I freeze, looking over my shoulder at him. He’s still my Caleb, but there’s something more there. He looks fierce, focused, his eyes burning with desire but also with a little smirk, daring me to challenge him.

  With a grin of my own, I nod, trying to keep the cheekiness out of my voice and failing. There’s no fucking way I want him to stop now. “Yes, sir.” Caleb laughs lightly but returns his fingers to my pussy, now rubbing circles over my clit like I wanted all along. He might have gotten his way, but I definitely think I’m the winner in this battle, because holy fuck, are his fingers magic. “Mmm . . . sir.”

  I start to clench tighter, getting closer and closer. He covers my back with his body, closing in tightly, and whispers into my ear. “My naughty girl is about to come all over me. Right here in the woods, with her pants down, hair fisted in my hand. This is better than my first idea.”

  “Idea?” I moan, barely able to hold back. But I can tell Caleb wants to tell me . . . and I want to hear it too.

  “Fucking you under the bleachers over at the high school stadium,” he rasps, his fingers pumping faster. “Always been a fantasy of mine. But this . . . this is just as good. Sexy as fuck, baby. Give it to me. Remember our deal—keep it down, but come for me.”

  It’s all I need. His calling me naughty, that fantasy, and his commanding me to come send me flying over the edge. I come harder than I’ve ever thought possible without him inside me. I clamp my jaw closed tight, holding in the screams, but the moans are still loud enough to be heard if there’s anyone around. He flicks my clit through my orgasm until I collapse, begging for mercy. “Please . . . too sensitive!” I mewl, my knees unhinging. The only things holding me up are my hands and Caleb’s hand in my ponytail. “Please, Caleb!”

  I turn around and watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off and moaning at the taste. When he takes out the last finger, I catch his mouth in a kiss. His lips are tangy, and I melt into his hot, hard body. After a moment, he pulls back with a growl.

  “Now we need some fucking pancakes,” he says, starting to pull my shorts up for me. He gets to the bottom of my asscheek and stops as I reach down, cupping his cock through his shorts and massaging the thick, throbbing heat I find there.

  “What? What about you?”

  His hands shaking, Caleb takes my wrist in his hand and pins my hands behind my back. “I don’t have a condom on me. It’s in my wallet back in my truck, and the next time I come, it’s going to be in that sweet pussy of yours. Not down your throat.”

  I smirk, biting my lip and looking up at him. “Why not both? Or maybe . . . you know, I’ve got more than one hole down there.”

  “Holy shit, you’re killing me, Cass. Maybe we should get those fucking pancakes to go.” With one last smack to my bare cheek, he helps me pull my shorts up and we run all the way to his truck. We head to the diner for two stacks of pancakes . . . to go.

  Chapter 19

  Caleb

  Sitting on the floor of Cassie’s apartment, we drizzle syrup over our short stacks and settle down on the living room floor. There’s a couch right here, but I don’t think we’ve ever sat on it. The first time I came over, we sat on the floor, and it's just become a thing we do. I don't know why.

  It’s not important anyway, I think as I give Cassie a look. She’s still in her running shorts, her leg cocked up, and I can’t help it, my eyes keep being drawn to them, knowing she doesn’t have anything on underneath. My cock is still asking when the fuck it’s gonna get some action and why I didn’t just try and fuck her as soon as I got my hands on a condom. But my stomach and brain are letting me keep calm . . . for now. They’re saying let the anticipation build, let it draw out, and make it even better. “So, what’s the deal with the house?”

  Cassie finishes a giant mouthful of pancake and looks up. “What do you mean? It’s a good project to flip. That’s all.”

  I sniff the air, pretending, and she understands. I’m pretty good at detecting the smell of bullshit. “That is most definitely not all. I’m no expert, but even I know there’s plenty of better prospects out there. Tell me about the house, about growing up there.”

  Cassie laughs a little nervously, shrugging in that way I know means she’s not really comfortable talking about it. “Uh, I grew up there. I was little, and then I was bigger. And then we moved out right at the end of elementary school.”

  Nope, she’s not getting away
that easily. There’s something about that house that has her by the short hairs, and I have to know why. For some reason, I think it’s been the catalyst for the change in our relationship. “Damn, Cassie, you are tighter than a submarine, and I don’t mean your pussy. Tell me something. Tell me your favorite memory there, at least.”

  Cassie goes quiet, and I give her time. She’s not avoiding the question, just gathering herself, I think. She hums, then shakes her head a few times and finally settles on a memory.

  “My eighth birthday. I begged and begged for a swing for the big tree out front and a vanilla cake with chocolate frosting. I woke up that morning, praying my begging worked. I woke up, and sure enough, Mama had made me a cake . . . for breakfast. It was awesome, not one of the cheap box cakes but something she’d upped the quality on, all moist and sweet and fluffy and . . . well, it was the best cake I’ve ever eaten. It even had sprinkles on top and a little candle for me to blow out. I unwrapped my presents, some new socks I needed and a little knock-off Barbie doll from the dollar store. She was pretty, and I knew Mama was happy to have gotten her for me, so I yelled thank you and ran around the table to give her a hug. She was squeezing me tightly and whispered in my ear to take the doll out to the front yard. When I opened the screen, I could see it. A tire hanging from a rope, right where I’d dreamed a dozen times that it would be. I really did squeal then and probably jumped a little bit because she told me to try it out. I ran out and started swinging. It was the best birthday ever. I’ve never felt more free than I did that summer, swinging in the tree, leaning back to stare at the sky. I felt like I was flying. I’d watch the sunset every night and then hustle inside right as the streetlights came on. It was the best summer ever,” she finishes wistfully.

 

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