“It definitely needs some TLC.”
“And a blow torch,” she adds, drawing out another laugh from me.
Prue, being the abject professional she is, moves straight into work assessing the pipes. She declares that everything needs updating and replaced—something I already assumed since everything needs to be updated and replaced.
“Here’s the deal,” she says once she’s done. “I don’t work for assholes. You’re the biggest asshole Sugarhill has ever seen. I would tell you to fuck off, but Margo is my best friend, and Amos is her husband, and they called in a favor. So here I am.”
“I really do appreciate it.”
“That may be so, but I want you to stay out of my way. I’ll come and do the work; it’ll take at least two weeks. I want you to realize I’m the only plumber in town, and emergencies happen. I’ll come and go here as I please, and you’ll deal with it, or I walk.”
I’m hearing her words, but all I’m thinking is that staying out of her way is going to be impossible. Not when I want her so much. Not when the temptation she poses is strong enough to make my cock hard just thinking about her. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. I don’t just want to fuck her… I want more of this verbal sparring. I want to bring out her inner wildcat and set her free.
Prue gives me her estimate. I suspect she added an asshole tax to the dollar amount because it’s bordering on ridiculous. What she doesn’t realize is that I’d pay just about anything to keep her in my sights. I may not be able to touch, but I sure as hell can watch her crawl all over this place.
“I’ll be here Monday morning after my staff meeting.”
I look at her, confused. “Staff meeting? Aren’t you the only employee at Sugar Plumbs?”
She purses her lips. “Fine then, let’s call a spade a spade, shall we? Monday is muffin day. I go to Sprinkled With Sugar and eat muffins and drink coffee and enjoy the company of my three best friends. I’ll be here after.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Alright then. I’ll see you after your staff meeting.”
A few minutes after Prue leaves, my phone rings. It’s the electrician telling me he has a last-minute opening and can start work on Monday. A few minutes after that, the contractor calls. Apparently, I have another thing to thank my feisty plumber for.
5
Prue
“You start work on the Sweets today, right?” Margo asks even though she knows as well as I do that today’s the day.
“Yep,” I say, taking another bite of my strawberries and cream cupcake. Okay, it’s not exactly a muffin, but with the day I’m about to have, it seems necessary.
“I can’t wait to see what that place looks like. Clay told Amos that he’s restoring it to its former glory. I’m so glad he’s not going to try to modernize it and turn it into some kind of nightclub or something.
Lani, Ana, and I all laugh at the very idea.
“Can you imagine that?” Lani asks. “A nightclub in Sugarhill…”
“I can totally see your pregnant ass out there busting a move.”
Margo and Ana laugh while Lani looks affronted. “I’ll have you know, I’m a great dancer.”
“Remember that one time we went to Indigo in the city? I think everyone in the place was scared to dance close to you with all the flailing of limbs you were doing.”
We all dissolve into laughter at the memory. “That was a fun night,” Ana says wistfully. “We should have girl’s nights like that more often.”
“We could, but y’all went and got married and knocked up.”
“Hey, I’m not pregnant,” Margo argues.
“Yet,” Dani singsongs. “We all know it’s only a matter of time.”
I feel my eye twitch when Margo doesn’t argue. Looks like I’m going to be an auntie times three sooner rather than later. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for my friends, but it’s hard not feeling a little left out knowing I’m the only single one. My friends are all moving on with their lives and starting families. I can’t help but wonder where I’m going to fit into things once they are all married with kids.
For the tiniest of moments, I consider what it would be like to fall in love and give myself to someone like my friends have. To trust another person so much that I’m willing to throw caution to the wind and go for broke. My mind flits over to Clay… If I could pick someone based on looks alone, he would be the ideal man for me. Heck, maybe even personality-wise. So far, he’s taken everything I’ve dished out at him either in stride, or he’s given as good as he’s gotten.
I push the stupid thoughts from my mind, reminding myself that men are trouble. It doesn’t matter that all of my friends have found good men. I’ve got shit luck when it comes to the opposite sex, and I made a pact with myself to never pin my hopes and dreams on a man.
Relationships are bad. Sex, on the other hand, is good. The only problem is that I don’t think I will be able to keep Clay at arm’s length. Which is where my whole aversion to even a casual hookup with him comes from. I’m already too attracted to him. No way can I give in to that attraction.
It’s day five on project shitshow. I knew it would be messy from the start, but this is worse than I thought it would be. All the pipes are rusted together, which isn’t to be unexpected, but it makes things exponentially harder. If rusted pipes were my only problem, I’d be golden. No, the real messy bit is Clay.
He’s infuriating and sexy and infuriating.
One minute I want to slap him, the next I want to kiss the shit out of him and throw him against the wall to have my way with him. The juxtaposition is driving me mad.
“You’re impossible!” I yell practically in his face.
“And you’re no cakewalk, princess,” he teases, making me even madder.
“I told you to stop calling me that.” I throw my arms in the air and turn to storm off, but his big hand on my arm stops me. Before I know what’s happening, Clay tugs me against his muscled chest, and his lips are crashing down on mine. He’s kissing me like a starved man, and I’m the only sustenance he’s tasted in months.
My mind says, push him away. This is wrong. Stop, stop now. But my body has other ideas. We’ve been dancing around each other for days, and there’s no denying the pent-up lust that’s grown to unbearable levels. I kiss him with just as much fervor as he does me.
Our tongues duel for control, making our kiss fiercer than any I’ve ever experienced. The warring of our strong personalities translates to the hottest kiss I’ve ever had. My hands slip under his shirt. I trace the hard plains of his chest, moaning into his lips at the feel of him. My nails rake over his hot skin as his hand twists in my hair and pulls. I gasp into the slight pain, wanting more.
The kiss is burning me up from the inside out. My panties are wet, my nipples hard, my pussy is begging for relief that only Clay can provide. I whimper when he ends the kiss to lick a line of fire down my neck, he sinks his teeth into the place where my pulse is thrumming, and my knees grow weak.
Fuck I want him. Want this.
“Jesus, Prue. You’re a fucking siren, tempting me… drawing me into my demise.” The words are growled against my skin as his mouth devours me. His hands deftly unzip my coveralls. He tugs the cups of my bra down so that my breasts are pushed up over them. He leans down and takes one turgid peak in his mouth, biting it. The shock of pain makes me yelp, but at the same time, it makes my pussy clench emptily.
“Clay!” I cry out as he bites my other nipple before taking my whole breast in his hand and sucking as much of it into his mouth as he can. My pussy floods my panties with my desire, and I nearly collapse to the floor. I knew it would be like this. It’s why I’ve avoided him for so long.
“Is your pussy nice and wet for me?” he asks, knowing damn well I’m soaked. Who wouldn’t be with the attention he’s showing my body? I’ve never been wetter, and I’ve never wanted someone as much as I do Clayton York.
That thought is enough to pull me out of the mome
nt and shut down my lustful thoughts. If this continues, there will be no denying my growing feelings for him. No, I can’t let this happen. I push against his chest, and he growls, sucking my nipple harder. Jesus, it’s like heaven. My body rebels against my brain's decision to end this right here.
“Clay, we can’t…”
“We can,” he says, licking my nipple and looking up at me through hooded eyes.
His lips find mine again in a passionate kiss that makes my toes curl. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m returning the kiss, ready to go ahead with the madness. Somehow, my better judgment wins out, and I’m able to push him away. I quickly fix my bra and zip up my coveralls. I take several steps back, my fingers covering my kiss swollen lips. I can still feel his mouth on them.
I hate myself a little for having no self-control. This is precisely why I’ve avoided him as much as possible. And whenever it’s not possible, I push against him with snarky or even downright hostile comments. Nothing has helped.
Obviously.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, this job is a shitshow, and last night was the worst of it all. I cannot believe I kissed Clay. Well, he kissed me, and I kissed him back… that’s the lie I’m telling myself. He may have initiated the kiss, but I wasn’t a passive participant. I kissed him back—enthusiastically.
Today things are awkward.
Clay smiles at me knowingly, and I scowl at him. He tells me I’m making good progress… I tell him to fuck off. Like the fucking professional I am. I can’t help it. He’s got me so tangled up that I don’t know how to unravel myself. Even before the best kiss of my life, I left here every day and ended up in the shower with my hands between my legs, working myself to orgasm after orgasm. Nothing helps to assuage the need building inside me. Last night certainly didn’t help.
Now it’s not just my body craving him. My brain is also hopping on the ‘fuck Clay’ train. That is why there will be no more kissing. No flirting. No nothing. I’m going to come in, do my job and leave.
That’s another lie I’m telling myself.
“How’s it going in here?” Clay asks, startling me and making me whack my head on the underside of the sink I’m currently dismantling to be replaced.
“Fuck me,” I grouse. “Do you have to sneak up on me like that?”
“Sorry, I thought you heard me,” he says, coming over to help me to my feet.
I avoid his help choosing to stand on my own petulantly. He gives me an amused look that says he knows exactly what I’m doing. I take a step forward and catch my booted toe on my discarded toolbelt and stumble forward. I crash into his chest. His hard, muscular, sexy as fuck chest. A chest I’ve been fantasizing about since that first time I saw him shirtless working on demoing the bar. That’s another thing I like about Clay, he’s not afraid to get dirty. In fact, from the start he’s been right in the thick of things helping demo and rebuild things.
He’s not at all the prissy city boy I had hoped he would be. It would be easy to ignore a pretty boy who doesn’t know a good hard day’s work, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. The man is a workhorse. He’s here long after the other contractors leave—though I find myself staying later and later too. I had myself convinced it was to hurry up and get this job so I could get away from Clay. Unfortunately, last night proved me wrong. I’ve been staying just to get extra time with him. My subconscious has been hard at work to dismantle my resolve.
I’m playing with fire, and I know it, but it’s impossible to ignore the draw.
“I’m going to the diner for some dinner; wanted to know if you’d like me to pick you up something.”
I lick my lips, whether from his closeness or from the idea of one of Amos’ big juicy burgers, I have no idea. Both spell trouble. One is going to have me falling into bed with a man that has me all twisted up inside—the very definition of complicated, and I don’t do complicated. The other is going to go straight to my hips.
“Uh, yeah, thanks,” I say, taking a step away, carefully avoiding my tools spread out all over the place. “Just tell them I want my regular.”
Ten minutes later, Clay is back with two take out containers. I look at him surprised. I expected him to eat at the diner then come back with food for me, not that he would be setting up a picnic-style meal for us to share. Butterflies that I didn’t know I was capable of erupt in my stomach.
This is bad. So bad.
I should take my food and go somewhere—anywhere—to eat alone, but I don’t. I sit on the tarp he’s spread out on the floor and decide it’s time to just go with the flow. Fighting the attraction isn’t working. Maybe giving in to it and getting it out of our systems will work…
6
Clay
She’s driving me insane. Every sip of that shake has her making pleased little sounds in the back of her throat. Each bite of burger has her groaning. It’s torture. Especially after last night. Prue is a fucking wildcat when she’s worked up and last night proved that she would be the same during sex. My cock thickens in my pants at the thought.
I’ve tried to deny myself, but it’s impossible.
She’s irresistible. It’s only a matter of time before things explode between us, and when they do… it’s going to be amazing. Epic, even. I know that once I have Prue, I won’t want to let her go. Already I’m possessive of her. Randall, one of the contractors, flirts with her incessantly. She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. The only thing keeping me from tearing him to pieces is the fact that she doesn’t respond to his advances.
She’s gorgeous and doesn’t seem to know it. Even her brass mouth and pitbull nature don’t detract from that. In fact, it draws me in. Everything about her draws me to her like a moth to a flame. I know I’m going to get burned, but I can’t stay away. Now that I know she’s lusting for me too, it’s going to be next to impossible to hold back.
I’ve been told by Amos’ wife that Prue doesn’t do relationships, but that’s not going to stop me. It just means I’ll have to try that much harder to win her over. I’m already half in love with the woman. She’s not only beautiful, but she’s fierce and beyond capable. I find that incredibly sexy. I love how she speaks her mind and doesn’t put up with anyone’s shit.
She takes another sip of her shake, making that happy little moan, and I break. “If you don’t stop making that noise, I’m going to throw you down and fuck you right here, right now.”
Prue looks up at me with wide eyes. Then she smirks that devilish smile that tells me she’s about to say or do something that’s going to rile me up even more. She licks the tip of her straw before sucking it into her mouth. She takes a long pull from the straw then moans low in her throat. She’s just daring me to do something. She licks her lips and gives me a lustful look, telling me her little game is turning her on as much as me.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing, princess,” I growl. “You’re playing with fire.”
“I’m not afraid of a little fire,” she says, looking down at the bulge in my jeans.
“Is that so?”
She gives me a heated look. “I can take whatever you’ve got… but can you handle me?”
I shove our food out of the way and tackle her down to her back on the tarp. “You asked for this. I want you to remember that.”
Prue licks her lips, looking at me with fire burning in her gray eyes. “Bring it.”
I crush my lips to hers. There is no finesse to the kiss. We’re both too worked up for anything more than an animalistic mating of tongues. Our teeth clash as our tongues tangle together. Her legs wrap around my waist, and she rubs against my cock. I bite down on her bottom lip, causing her to gasp. Her hands tunnel through my hair, and she pulls hard enough to break my lips from hers. Before I know what’s happening, she has her teeth buried in the side of my neck. I know she’s biting hard enough to leave a mark, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ll proudly wear her mark.
I growl low in my throat in challenge. She keeps rubbing her hot cunt against me, driving me insane with need. We rip at each other’s clothes. The zipper on her coveralls gets stuck, and I rip it the rest of the way open. She simply gasps at my strength, not one complaint about her ruined clothes. Soon enough, I’ve got her laid out under me completely naked.
“Are you sure you want this? Once I start, there won’t be an end. Your little pussy will be mine.” I have no idea what I’m saying. I expect her to protest my declaration, but she doesn’t.
“Fuck me, Clay. Do it.” She claws at my shoulders, pulling me down for another kiss.
I take her at her word and thrust into her in one brutally hard motion. Prue’s back arches, and she screams. At first, I feel a shred of regret thinking I’ve hurt her, but then her pussy clenches and ripples around me, and I realize she’s screaming from an orgasm.
“Fuck, princess. Your little cunt is hungry for me.”
Her answer is to claw my back and bite down on my shoulder. I slowly pull out, enjoying the slow drag of her wet heat squeezing me. I flick my hips forward, giving her another powerful thrust.
“Yes! Fuck me,” she yells. “Ohmygod, so good…”
I pull out for a brief moment and flip her to her hands and knees. I notch myself at her entrance, and she pushes back as I thrust, causing us to crash together in a cacophony of slapping skin. I slap my palm on her ass, punishing her for being such a fucking tease. It only makes her pussy clench me harder as she moves with me harder and faster.
“You like that?” I ask, spanking her again.
“Yes… more…”
I give her more. I don’t stop my brutal pounding of her pussy as I smack her ass until it’s bright pink. Every slap has her crying out for more.
Losing Her Heart (Sweet Somethings Book 4) Page 2
