Polished Slick (Natural Beauty)

by Holley Trent

  “Thank you.” He shoved his aching shaft back into her until she started to giggle—the sign she was getting close. “I mean, I set up the bomb for you. That helped you a lot, right?”

  “Just screw me!”

  “I am, baby! It’s just…” He grunted, moaned, trying to hold back the torrent waiting to be unleashed from his core. Baseball. Clowns. Cat claws. Yeah, that did it. That earned him a few more thrusts. “If I ain’t got no money, I can’t do you right. I gotta work.”

  She came, digging her toenails into the bulky muscles of his calves and clawing at the cheap motel comforter. When she was done panting and writhing, she turned over and wrapped her legs around his bulky waist so they could finish in the same way they always did.

  “Don’t you worry about that. Once we take care of this business with Nikki, I’ll be rolling in dough. You stick with me babe and we’ll be all right.”

  “Okay,” he said, patting her belly. “All this just because she did a hit and run on your aunt’s car? I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, baby.” He mashed his sweaty body against hers and went to work.

  “Yep, that’s all it is. Auntie’s car.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  God damn, Trinity in that little dress. That was all Jerry could think about as he walked from Beth’s studio in his street clothes down Broad to the bakery where he was meeting Lynn.

  She said she had good news, and he sure as shit hoped she was telling the truth, because he couldn’t take one more day of Kate bitching about her yard. His dad was home from wherever he’d been, so Jerry thought he’d at least have a few days’ reprieve.

  He’d seen Trinity naked, for fuck’s sake, and it’d been a very nice view from where he’d been squatting. Supple thighs, high and tight breasts, firm flat belly. And the way she’d clamped her bottom lip between her teeth whenever he drove his tongue inside her. But that dress—so feminine and bold in a way Trinity didn’t even know she was…

  He wanted to see her in it again…preferably with it pooled around her ankles.

  Thinking that, he had to rest for a minute on a bench to re-center himself. The last thing he needed was for that cougar Lynn to get any wrong ideas about the nature of their relationship.

  Jerry actually beat Lynn to the bakery and got a very large iced coffee at the counter. With it half consumed, he felt his heated body begin to cool, although his thoughts of Trinity hadn’t ebbed. He’d need to figure out what to do about that pesky little pixie and fast. Not just for the sake of preserving the structural integrity of his neglected cock, but because he actually liked the little snot. A lot. He could see her as an old lady fifty years in the future he’d still be arguing with about the same old shit. It warmed his heart to think about it.

  He straightened up as Lynn strutted into the building holding a sheath of papers and wearing not only a very low-cut blouse, but also a shit-eating smile.

  “We got it! And ooh! What happened to your hair? I love it—like, seriously. Oh, you look so dashing.”

  He ignored that last bit of gushing and shifted sideways a bit when she made a less than furtive attempt to pat his head. “We did?”

  “Yes! Only had to outbid one person who didn’t have more than five thousand cash on him. My lowest commission ever, and I don’t even care, I’m just so stoked! Want to drive out and take a look?” She leaned over the side of the table and lowered her voice to the range of huskiness. “I’m dying to see inside.”

  If she thinks she’s getting me all alone she’s got another thing coming. “Yeah, let’s do that.” Jerry slurped up the dregs of his iced coffee and tossed the empty cup into the recycling bin. “Let’s drive separately, though. I’ll meet you out there just as soon as I call the locksmith.”

  “The…locksmith?”

  “Well, did you get keys?”

  “No. It was an abandoned property. There were no keys, honey.”

  “Okay, so, locksmith. And contractor. Got a guy on standby. He’s ready and just waiting on my call. Itching for the work, you know, especially since my budget has just opened up.”

  She giggled nervously. “A-heh. Well!” She straightened her piles of paper and corrected her posture. “Let’s get to it, then, shall we?”

  “Let’s.”

  * * *

  “Ain’t no fucking way, man.” Greg Ward took one step into the open doorway, looked up, then stepped right back out onto the sagging porch.

  Jerry poked his head inside to see what the contractor saw. The first floor of the house was wholly intact and floors were as they should be. The second floor was on top of the first floor. Literally. Jerry looked up and saw the attic through where the first floor ceiling should have been.

  Well, there went Plan A.

  “Demo it?” Jerry asked, already knowing what Greg’s recommendation would be.

  “Hell yeah. It don’t even have power hooked up to it, so you’d probably be better off building from scratch than trying to retrofit all that shit, anyway.”

  Jerry blew out a breath and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Damn, absolute scratch. Kate’s going to shit a brick.”

  Greg patted Jerry’s shoulder in a manly, thumping fashion. “Look on the bright side, Jer. You got a big-ass yard. You could hit golf balls and shit out here and never hit a thing.”

  “True.” Jerry had no plans for exercising with his nine iron any time soon, but it was still nice to have a large lot to expand on. Maybe one day he’d do what Charlie’s parents had and subdivide the parcel for his kids. He laughed at himself. Putting the cart ahead of the horse.

  “You gonna get with an architect pretty soon? Get some plans drawn up?”

  “Oh, well I don’t need that. I have an old surfing bud who’s a licensed architect. We were shooting the shit one night down in Wilmington a few years ago, and we got to talking about houses. I told him what I would want if I ever had the chance to build from scratch, and he sent me an e-mail one day with some plans attached. I think he’d been smoking weed or something, and put off some other work.”

  Greg leaned against one of the columns, and the weakened structure groaned in protest. He jumped down to the weedy grass.

  Jerry followed.

  Fortunately, Lynn had decided against trudging across the soggy lawn in her high heels and was down at the road leaning against her car hood, waiting.

  He had waved her on a couple of times, telling her to go, but she’d held up her hands in a “I’ve got all day” gesture. He just bet she did.

  “Are they, like, legit and shit?” Greg asked. “He’s licensed in North Carolina? I mean, it’s not like a concept house that’s all plans and not actually founded on real physics and codes and shit?”

  “He’s licensed here and in California. So, yeah, it’s definitely a concept house, but it’s founded in reality. You would actually be able to build it to code.”

  “Well, if that’s what you want, send them over to me. I’ll get them printed out.”

  They turned their backs to the road, looking at the pathetic old house. Jerry rubbed his chin. Did he want that? It was definitely what he’d wanted two years ago. Two years ago, though, he hadn’t been thinking about the future. Would it be a good house for a young family? He didn’t know. His parents’ house was a traditional two-story dwelling where there were enough rooms for the three people who resided under the roof to avoid each other for entire days if they so wished. Jerry typically did want to avoid Kate, so it wasn’t a problem. But for his own house?

  How outside the box did he want to be? Who could he ask about it? Not his father. Maybe Nikki? No, not Nikki. Nikki was too traditional for what he had in mind. She acted like a hellcat, but she was all about the Southern lifestyle at heart.

  He had a thought. “I’ll let you know. How fast can you get it built? It’d be around three thousand square feet including the basement.”

  “Bud, this is eastern North Carolina. What’s this basement shit? Anyway, if I get my subcontr
actors lined up and my permits pulled—and we’re not dealing with crazy-ass materials that are only available in Kook Capital, USA—I can get that thing built by winter. You need to tell me now.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Shake?” Greg held out a hand.

  “Yeah.” Jerry shook it. “But do me a favor? Wednesday or so, can you pour a driveway for me? I’m getting the trailer dragged out as soon as it’s done. You can come grade the lot after that. I’ll show you where I think the house’ll be.”

  “You’re not going to have hook-ups.”

  “Yeah, I know. At this point I’ll forgo game night and live in a hotel to get out of Kate’s hair. The stink-eye treatment is getting tedious.”

  “I’ll get someone out here to cut this goddamned prairie grass, too.” Greg gave Jerry a mock salute and carefully picked his way across the yard to his truck. Jerry ignored Lynn’s overemphatic gestures of “Come here!” and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

  “Hey, Nikki? It’s Jerry. Do you have Trinity’s number on hand?”

  * * *

  What did people wear to dates that weren’t exactly dates?

  Trinity sorted through the upper row of hangers at the side of her walk-in closet looking for just the right thing to wear to dinner.

  When Jerry had called and asked if she could meet him so he could pick her brain, she’d initially been wary. Then he explained further; he was working on a time crunch and needed a candid opinion by the next day. Well, she was nothing if not candid.

  Initially, she had suggested they meet at Christine’s, but he thought it’d be too loud and he mumbled something about the tables being too sticky. He said he’d call in a reservation to the country club’s restaurant, which had made her gulp. She’d never been there, and was honestly surprised he had access to the exclusive place.

  She didn’t want to dress like she was trying too hard, but at the same time, she wanted to grab his attention. She wanted to be the only woman in the room he had eyes for, which would be difficult with the boring creams and taupes in her closet. She closed the door with a sigh, and padded down the hall to Ginger’s room. Ginger was still at work filling teeth, and probably lecturing some kid’s mom about plaque build-up. Ginger wouldn’t mind. Trinity stepped into her great-aunt’s walk-in closet and unzipped what Ginger called her “third best” garment bag.

  There, amongst other summer dressy clothes, Trinity found a turquoise-colored ruched silk sheath that wasn’t too fancy. She took that, and borrowed a pair of sandals, too. They were a half-size smaller than what she wore, but she figured she’d just have to cope or else wear her matching plaid Chucks. That probably wouldn’t go over well.

  She showered and removed all the residual make-up from the earlier photo-shoot with some difficulty. N-by-N actually made a damn good make-up remover, but Trinity didn’t own any because she didn’t usually wear make-up. “I’ll have to swipe a bottle just in case,” she mumbled as she leaned over the bathroom sink, squinting into the medicine cabinet’s mirror and swatting on black mascara. After a little swipe of berry-colored lipgloss, she was ready to go.

  Jerry was already at the table when she arrived at the restaurant, peering down at some papers with his face tensed with concentration.

  As the hostess walked her through the room to the table by the windows, Trinity took in his attire with a sense of relief she’d chosen well with her own.

  He wore a crisp white button-up shirt tucked into navy belted slacks, and dark loafers without socks. Although they were shiny, they didn’t look new. She wondered what the hell did he do in his free time that would require ownership of expensive shoes.

  “Hi,” she said, taking the seat the hostess pulled out and dismissing her. The large paper spread on the table seemed to be building plans.

  A slow smile spread across his face. Then he looked away. “Hi, yourself. Hope I don’t have you out past your bedtime. Don’t want you to turn into a pumpkin or anything. Nikki would have a cow.”

  “Ha ha. I am a grown woman, or have you forgotten?” She felt a bit bold, so she grazed the side of her right foot up the inside of his left leg.

  He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. “No, pixie, I haven’t forgotten. Actually, since you’re now just barely old enough to drink…” He reached across the table and grabbed the waiting Riesling’s neck. He poured a couple of inches into the empty glass in front of her. “I’m really more of a beer drinker, but every now and then I get in the mood for something lighter.”

  “I’ll have you know I’ll be twenty-six in December,” she said with a chuckle, pulling the glass closer to her by the stem.

  “Well, you’re a goddamned old maid then. How do you live with yourself?”

  “Oh, shut it,” she said with an eye roll. “So, what’s all this?”

  He leaned back against his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “I need a reality check, and I thought you’d be nasty enough to give me one. Plenty of time for that, though. Have you eaten?”

  She huffed. “I’m not nasty.”

  “Pity.”

  Took a moment for her to catch the double-entendre. Her jaw dropped.

  He wriggled his eyebrows.

  “Yikes.” She crossed her legs uncomfortably, trying to squelch the heat pooling at the apex of her thighs. “Um…I’ve heard the salmon is good.”

  “It is. Get whatever you want. ’S’on me.”

  She took a slow sip of her wine and stared at him over the top of her glass. The limey stuff slid down her throat and warmed her belly as she put her elbows on the edge of the tabletop. She rested her chin atop her fists. “How is it that Chowan County’s preeminent beach bum have a country club membership?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve always had one. My dad has one, so I do, too. I take advantage of it every now and then.”

  That explained the shoes.

  “Uh-huh. And, this may be forward, what exactly does your father do for a living?”

  “Well, that’s kind of complicated.” Jerry tipped his face toward the ceiling and rubbed his chin.

  She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and honed in on the muscles at the sides of his neck, ropy and strong. She had a sudden urge to sink her teeth into them. She gave herself a little pinch. Stop it! You’re sending mixed signals. Pick one and stick to it. On, or off!

  He looked down at her with those dark blue eyes and bit his lip.

  On! Remember the tuxedo? Oh, god.

  “He gets contracted by manufacturing companies to go overseas and find…” He raised one blond eyebrow and lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Keep doing that with your foot and we won’t make it through dinner. God, you’re such a cock tease.”

  Oh, we can fix that.

  She lowered her foot from his lap and crossed her legs once more, giving him a peaceful look. “You were saying?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “He goes overseas to source cheap materials and labor.”

  “Oh, I see. So, the exact opposite of how Nikki runs business.”

  “Pretty much. Unfortunately, he didn’t ask my opinion on the matter and I haven’t offered it.”

  “Bit of a rebel, huh?”

  “Since the day I beat him at golf at fourteen. I quit right after that and he never asked me to play again. I took up surfing instead.”

  They paused their conversation long enough to put in their food orders. Trinity sipped some more wine. “So, what happened with the house?”

  “Oh, well, that’s why we’re here. Won the auction, but I can’t say I won much of a house. We’re going to have to raze it. It’s a complete mess. Structurally unsound and a veritable cesspool. I think someone must have been squatting in there for quite a while. Saw a lot of fast food trash on the first floor.”

  She cringed. Such a damned waste. “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I’ve got some money saved up from my…heh…frugal living for the past few years and I guess I’ll finance the rest, but…”
He tapped the plans unfurled on top of the white tablecloth. “I want to build this house, but I’m worried there’s so much me in it that…well, that other people won’t be comfortable.”

  Trinity stood and walked to the side of the table to lean over the plans. It was a single-story U-shaped house. The top of the U pointed toward the back of the property and opened into a courtyard used for outdoor dining. One leg of the U housed three bedrooms and a bath. The other had a master suite and office. The front of the U was communal space, the kitchen, living area, and a guest bath. There were also plans for a two-story garage with a guest apartment.

  She shrugged. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Do you think it’s too open?”

  “Aunt Ginger’s house has Georgian architecture, so I’m used to a lot of walls. Growing up, though, sometimes I wished I could see what she was doing in the kitchen when I was in the den. I think if you like the people you live with you kind of want to be in the same room.”

  “But you can’t predict whether or not your kids will like you.” There was a bit of edge in his voice she almost didn’t catch. She wondered what the basis of it was.

  She shrugged and returned to her seat. “No, you can’t. But…kids have bedrooms they can lock themselves up in.”

  “Okay, hypothetically speaking. If we were married, would you want personal space aside from the bedroom? Say, if you wanted to read a book alone or make a phone call.”

  Married? To Jerry? Her face burned at the thought of him sharing her bed night after night, and she quickly turned toward the window.

  “I…well, if I were making a phone call I’d probably use the office, assuming no one was in it. Reading a book?” You’d sit next to me on the sofa and I’d put my feet on your lap. “Well, I guess that could be trickier if there was a lot of ambient noise.” She tapped her fingers atop the drawing for a few beats then shrugged. “I don’t think it’d bother me. People adapt. Plus, there’s an entire basement. What do you have planned for that?”

  He shrugged. “Dunno. I thought maybe it’d be the haven for all my computer equipment or some sort of game room. Keep that junk out of the line of sight, you know?”