Open House - Working Stiffs Book Two

by Sahara Kelly

  Granted they’d been in college. She was a helluva lot more limber then, and yes, probably more adventurous. Doing it up against the wall seemed like an exciting idea and she’d had so much shower sex her ass had turned pruney.

  The memories, so long pushed to the back of her mind, made her itch for him. The stickiness turned damp and she did her best to ease herself out from beneath his firm hold.

  “Where d’you think you’re going?”

  Shit. So much for stealthy retreats. “To the bathroom?”

  “Uh uh.” He tightened his grasp. “Wait a few minutes. I want to hold you.”

  Crap. She wasn’t immune to that touch of tenderness. What woman would be?

  “Why haven’t we been doing this for the last eight years, Gaby?” He nuzzled her affectionately, all warm, sleepy - and incredibly attractive - man.

  “We broke up, that’s why.” She sighed.

  “We were idiots.”

  “You were an idiot. I was perfect.”

  He chuckled. “Sure, sweetheart.

  “I’m glad you agree.”

  At that, Jeff lifted up on one elbow, brushed her hair away from her face and looked at her, an arrested expression in his eyes. “You mean that, don’t you? You think it was all my fault?”

  Gaby gave him back look for look. “I wasn’t the one who left two pairs of panties in your bed, Jeff. Not just one, but two. We’d been seeing each other pretty damn intensely for months. I was thinking all kinds of stupid things, I guess. Making plans I shouldn’t have.” She shrugged. “So in that sense, I probably wasn’t perfect.”

  She looked away, scared some of the old pain might show. “But after the first time you touched me, I never even thought about another man.”

  Jeff sighed and rolled away from her, leaving her with an odd sense of loneliness. “I wish you’d given me chance to explain.”

  “What was to explain?”

  Odd that her voice was calm. Perhaps she had come to terms with it after all. It was one small hiccup in her college years. One incident where sweet passion turned sour. Nothing new, nothing earth-shattering. And yet it had left a scar. She’d hoped she had stopped picking at it a long time ago. But apparently it was still a wee bit tender.

  “You’re right.” He sounded resigned. “Looking back on it, there wouldn’t have been anything I could have said to explain it. I was drunk, it was Steve’s bachelor party if I remember correctly, and to this day I can’t recall having two women at once. I can’t even recall having one of them, if you want the absolute truth. Do you have any idea how much tequila we went through?” He shuddered. “Haven’t touched a drop since. Swear to God. Even limes make me want to throw up. Which is sad because my mom’s key lime pie is the eighth wonder of the world.”

  He turned his head and thrust his arm beneath his pillow so that he could see her watching him. “I was an idiot, Gaby. A stupid, immature, foolish idiot.”

  She sighed. “You were a guy, Jeff. A college guy. I shouldn’t have expected anything else, I suppose.”

  “Ouch.” He winced. “On behalf of our gender, I would like to protest that remark. But honesty compels me to confess you’re probably right.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “What I’m absolutely sure about is that I lost something very precious. And I didn’t know how valuable it was until it was gone.”

  Firmly he grasped her chin and turned her to face him. “Just where the hell did you go? I tried to find you.”

  “Does it matter now?”

  “Not really. But humor me.”

  “Rhode Island.” She repressed a grin as his face blanked and he stared at her like she’d goosed him up the ass with a cattle prod.

  “Rhode Island? That little blip somewhere next to Connecticut?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Not Europe or South America? Because I searched both of those.”

  “Thoroughly?”

  He snorted. “You know what I mean. Anyplace that had an overseas design program that sophomores could apply for - Jesus, Gaby. I spent days in the library trying to find out if you’d applied for a semester abroad.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Well, I applaud your diligence, Jeff. However, it’s a bit arrogant of you to think that breaking up with you is sufficient to drive a girl to flee across oceans and continents.” She finally grinned. “A couple of hundred miles north was far enough. I got transferred to the Rhode Island School of Design.”

  “Shit.” He looked disgusted. “RISD. I could have driven up and got you back.”

  “Now that I don’t know about.” She contemplated his expression. “I was really, really hurt.”

  She saw it then, the remorse, the flash of pain behind his gaze.

  “I’m so sorry. For everything.” He stilled as he spoke the words.

  And in that moment, everything changed to clear and bright. It wasn’t the sunlight coming in through the tall windows, or the fact that she was sexually sated and well-satisfied.

  No, it was that some old doors finally closed in her mind, and the rooms they barred were now empty of dark baggage. She swore she heard the locks clicking.

  So the smile she gave him was easy, natural. “Jeff, you’re forgiven.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “You’re serious. You’re going to forgive me for being an asshole.”

  “You can’t help it. I’ve accepted that.”

  “Um.” He frowned. “I’m losing track of whether this is good or bad.”

  “Then let me help you understand.” She reached for him now, letting her hands wander over his very nice chest and further south. True to his gender, he was hard, sporting a luscious branch of morning wood. She grasped it firmly.

  “Okay.” His eyes rolled a little bit. “I’m pretty sure this is good.”

  “Oh yeah. It certainly is.” She dove beneath the covers.

  Sunday morning ~ an hour later

  “Crap.” Jeff rushed headlong down the stairs and into the living area. He’d left Gaby straightening the mess they’d made of the bedroom and the bathroom in the master suite, hoping she’d manage to eradicate the worst of the evidence.

  If it hadn’t been for a phone call from his father, they’d still be rolling in said evidence, but all good things had to come to an end, apparently. And one never got too old to be called to account by one’s parent.

  “Meet you at the model, Jeff.”

  Since it was a cell call, Jeff realized his father thought he was on the road. “Okay, Dad.”

  “You want coffee?”

  Only as much as he wanted to breathe. “Yeah, that would be nice. Uh….” how to put it so as not to incite too much suspicion, “…if you could make that two? Salvucchi’s design rep is going to be here.”

  “Really.” His father sounded curious, damn him. “I’ll look forward to meeting him.”

  “Actually, it’s a her.”

  “That’s nice.”

  All right. Now Jeff was seriously unsettled. His father was way too casual. “Yeah. I’ll see you in a bit, Dad. Thanks.”

  As he rushed through some semblance of preparation, he realized that he’d actually gotten the wish he’d made yesterday. The open house now had some mess. It looked lived-in and, to his eyes, far more appealing. Of course, that was only his opinion.

  After fifteen frantic minutes, the remote lock pinged open as Jeff ran hands through his hair. Thank God it was short and not noticeably just-got-out-of-the-shower soaked.

  “You here?” His father’s voice sounded from the foyer below.

  “Upstairs. In the kitchen.”

  His father emerged from the stairwell, a bland smile on his face. “Morning, son. Here’s your coffee.”

  “Blessings upon you.” Jeff grabbed one of the cups, inhaled the fragrance and downed his first swig with relish.

  “Busy weekend?” It was a casual question. “How did you get on with the new designer?”

  Jeff didn’t have c
hance to respond.

  “Actually we got on quite well.” Gaby answered for him, strolling down the stairs, cool as the proverbial cucumber. “Jeff, I made notes on the new color scheme we discussed. I think the maroon will make a superb counterpoint to the flecks in that Travertine marble.”

  “Well, well, well.” McAdams senior smiled and held out his hand. “Look at this. It’s Gaby, isn’t it? Gaby Rossini?”

  She smiled back. “Lovely to see you again, Mr. McAdams. It’s been many years, hasn’t it? And I’ve been telling Jeff how great your development is. Lots of potential.”

  She walked to the counter and put down her folder, taking the mug tree and putting it out of sight. “This is the sort of thing I’d recommend to upgrade the staging.” She pulled out a cardboard replica of a state-of-the-art tablet, put it on a tiny cardboard stand and placed it at the perfect angle near the stove. “See? Instant blending of technology and function on an everyday level.”

  “I’ll be damned.” Jeff’s father shook his head. “Will you look at that? I’d never have thought of it.”

  “That’s my job, Mr. McAdams. It’s why you hired Salvucchi. We won’t let you down.”

  “It may get challenging, you know. It’s going to be a big development.”

  “I think we can handle it.” Gaby looked confident.

  “Like you’re handling each other?”

  Horrified, Jeff saw his father reach into his pocket and remove a torn pair of silky panties. “I think you dropped these on the stairs.”

  Gaby blushed, opened her mouth and then shut it again, taking the panties and throwing a glance of embarrassed agony at Jeff.

  “Uh, Dad…I can explain…”

  Senior’s peal of laughter rang through the model house. “No need, son. You and Gaby had something special all those years ago. As soon as I saw her name under Salvucchi and verified she was who I thought she was, I figured it might be time to see if that special something still existed since you never seemed to be able to find the right one to settle down with.”

  He walked over to a stunned Gaby and hugged her. “I always liked you, dear. You were good for this idiot I fathered. It was nice to know you were still single.”

  “I…um…”

  “Dad?”

  “And you, idiot. Why you let this one get away I don’t know. Now, of course, I really don’t care because you’re a grown man and can make your own stupid mistakes. But your mother does care. She’s making grandparent noises. Scary.” He put his arm around Gaby’s shoulders and turned her toward Jeff. “I’m thinking you got yourself a keeper, son. She would go a long way toward making your mother happy. And my life would get easier, which is of course the most important thing.”

  “I…uh…”

  “Stutters now and again, doesn’t he?” McAdams grinned down at Gaby, then leaned closer. “Oh, by the way. Don’t hold the missing panties against him. He gets that little quirk from me. I still have a couple of his mother’s pairs from when we were dating. But don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  Dumbly, Gaby nodded. Then blinked and shook her head in confusion.

  Jeff’s father chuckled. “Well, looks like my work here is done. I have, for your information, moved the open house signs to next door. Shirley is coming over this afternoon to handle prospective clients. She managed to free her schedule. So you two…” He waggled his eyebrows, “…well, I don’t want to know about it.”

  “Dad, you are devious, sneaky and just out-sneakied Machiavelli.”

  “Yep.”

  “Also smug. And I will get you for that one day.”

  “Have at it, son. I think I’ll go see if your mother’s up. Got me a need for some…breakfast.”

  His rich laugh followed him down the stairs and out the front door, leaving Jeff and Gaby staring at each other like shell-shocked earthquake victims.

  “He knew.” Gaby blinked.

  “He set us up.”

  “How on earth could he know?”

  Jeff shrugged helplessly. “That’s my father. I thought I’d learned never to underestimate him, but even at this age, he still occasionally blows my mind.”

  Gaby’s gaze lowered to the crumpled silk in her hands. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look him in the face again.”

  That made him chuckle. “Sure you will. And you’d better get used to it because this time around, I’m not going to be an idiot. I’m going to do what my dad told me to.”

  She glanced at him from beneath her eyelashes. “Like a dutiful son.”

  “Exactly.”

  “He’ll be so proud.”

  “I’m not telling him. And do you know why not?”

  “No, why not?”

  He could see the smile playing around her mouth as he teased her. “Because I’m going to do some really wicked things to you. Things that might shock a parent.”

  “Oh.” She put a finger to her lip as she pondered his words. “More wicked than what we did last night?”

  “God yeah. We’ve got a whole model home to play in and a day to ourselves. Tomorrow it’s back to the grindstone. But today we have half-baths and great spaces. Not to mention a wine cooler.”

  “True.”

  “And there’s something else.” He walked to her, took everything from her grasp and put her arms around his neck.

  “What would that be?”

  She looked at him, eager, excited, happy to be in his embrace. He made a private vow to do his best to keep that expression on her face as often as possible.

  “I’ve just realized something.”

  “You have, huh? Wanna share?” She nestled close, tucking her body against his and rubbing the short hair at the back of his head with her fingertips. He slipped his hands down to her ass, tugged up her skirt and cupped her silky naked buttocks.

  “I have realized that you, my sweet, aren’t wearing any panties.” He squeezed firmly and stroked her tender sex with his fingertips. “Pass me a pastry brush and a trivet. The wickedness is about to commence…”

  The End

  Whether Jeff and Gaby made Jeff’s mom happy or not…well, that’s a question that will remain unanswered. We like to think so. After all, wickedness has its own rewards.

  Jeff is a good working stiff, committed to his career and now to Gaby, so we can leave them to their lives, secure in the knowledge that there’s an interim Happy Ever After occurring right now.

  There are, of course, many more Working Stiffs on the way. Look for the next in this series, a single title from S.L. Carpenter, to appear soon. Short, hot and real - the mantra of both authors when it comes to these novellas. If you’re enjoying them then drop a note to either Sahara or Scott, or both. They love to hear from readers.

  And in case you missed the kick-off tale, Hired Help, here’s a little peek at the woman who started it all.

  Working Stiffs - Book One

  Hired Help

  S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly

  Excerpt

  The candlelight and single lamp were flattering, softening the planes of her cheeks and making her slender body look lusher than she knew it was. She wasn’t a big woman anywhere. Her breasts were adequate, but not eye-catching, and next to Mel she felt definitely feminine and almost petite. Of course, he’d never mentioned her breasts at all.

  Never given so much as a hint that he might find her attractive physically. Which was quite correct, of course. He worked for her. There couldn’t be anything in the least bit sexual between them.

  She couldn’t, for example, imagine his hands on her adequate breasts, or his mouth between her legs. Nope. That was not acceptable.

  The fact that she’d done so, more than once, in moments of what she liked to refer to as private interludes of intimate pleasure with technology -- well, nobody had to know.

  Yeah, her thoughts about him were quite a bit more…more…personal and intense than she’d realized. And yes, she’d noticed his body too, since calling him “in good shape” was like calli
ng the Grand Canyon a bit of a hole in the ground.

  Mel was built. The proverbial brick shithouse would have envied him. His suits were tailored to fit the strong shoulders and biceps, although she knew he preferred the less noticeable ‘uniform’ of dark shirts and chinos. Even better were the t-shirts and jeans she insisted he wear if they weren’t involved in anything professional.

  It was true that most of the time she barely saw him. Her days were still filled to overflowing with work that demanded at least a hundred percent of her focus. But when she did step back and take a breath…hell, she was a woman. And she noticed him as a man.

  Perhaps here, now, with a king-sized, satin-covered bed glowing in the shadows of the adjoining room and her thoughts revolving around naked bodies, sex and that self-same bed, Rose was super-focused on all things physical. Her hormones were busily sticking stimulating pins into the voodoo doll of her libido. It was probably natural that Mel, a prime specimen of delectable masculinity if ever there was one, should figure in some of her fantasies.

  She would never admit, even to herself, that those fantasies had begun leaking over into dreams of tangled bodies, sweaty skin and screaming orgasms.

  Absolutely not going to go there. She was here instead, ready for some no-strings pleasure with a man who earned a living by ringing those female bells.

  She quietly awaited the expensive privilege of being thoroughly fucked by a skilled and talented sensual practitioner. He wouldn’t have to work quite so hard, since Rose realized her little mental trip over to Mel and his yummy ass had produced the inevitable reaction.

  Her panties were damp.

  Good timing, since at that moment she heard a quiet tap, and her heart thumped in response.

  Okay, coward. Open the damn door.

  *~*~*~*

  HIRED HELP - Working Stiffs Book One

  Now available for your eReader at the link below: