Open House (Kingston Bros.)

by Larson, Tamara

  Besides, he owed it to Jack Senior. His dad had always emphasized the necessity of being a professional, and maintaining respectability. And that did not include using their work to procure women. So, no, any kind of emotional entanglement, even if it was just sex, would not be looked upon favorably by his family. In fact, it would be downright hypocritical.

  "They wouldn't have to know," Jack said, placing his hands on her shoulders, and stooping down to get a better look at her expression.

  Lacey moved out from under his hands, took a step away from him and turned towards the street. "Okay, I wanted to have some really dirty sex with you, Jack. But now you want me to be your dirty little secret? How did this become so complicated? I totally suck at this whole seduction thing."

  Jack couldn't help it. He laughed. Her profile looked so forlorn. It was not a look that suited her at all. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her from behind. "I happen to think you are incredibly talented at this whole seduction thing," he whispered against her neck. "In fact, if you were any better at it, I'd probably be on my way to the hospital right now because of the lack of blood to my brain."

  Despite herself, Lacey chuckled and ran one of her hands along the muscled forearms across her stomach. "You know that can't happen, right? I'm a nurse, and I've never seen anyone suffering from massive cranial blood loss due to a prolonged erection. At least not a natural one."

  "Hmmm...I love it when you talk all clinical like that. Say 'prolonged erection' again," Jack said, grinding himself playfully against her bottom.

  "You have the strangest idea of dirty talk, Jack."

  "Sadly, this is the closest I've come to dirty talk in a long time. I may be a little rusty. But I bet I could get better with practice," he said, biting down on her earlobe.

  "Why has it been so long? I don't understand. How is a someone like you even single?"

  "What do you mean, 'someone like me?'"

  Lacey pinched his forearm. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you? Serena's right. Your ego doesn't need anymore stroking. But if you insist, what I meant was how can someone successful and funny and so damn hot be single?"

  "I could say the same thing about you. But I assure you that my wife didn't think I was any of those things. But I'm glad you do. That means a lot to me. However, the story behind my single status is a very long and depressing one. So, let's figure out how we're going to work and play together instead, okay?"

  Lacey turned in his arms to face him. "Jack, as much as I wish we could make that happen. You must know that it'd be a huge mistake to even try. There's a lot at stake here. Your business and your relationship with your family, for one. My emotional trauma if you reject me after we sleep together and I still have to work with you. We have to choose: definite fun now and no house, or house now and the possibility of fun later. I already told you what I want. Now you have to decide what you want." She poked him in the chest for emphasis.

  What did he want? If he was smart he'd forget about the stupid house and take Lacey as fast and as hard as he could without appearing like a complete sex maniac. And Lacey wanted that too. So, why was he hesitating? She was offering him exactly what he wanted. No strings sex. A sure thing. And with a woman that made his dick hard and his mood light for a change. It was perfect. And yet he couldn't do it. At some point today, something had changed and he wanted more. He still couldn't see himself in a relationship, but coldly using someone for sex, especially someone like Lacey, seemed empty and a little sad. He didn't want to be that guy. His penis wanted him to be that guy, but Mr. Happy wasn't in charge, at least for now.

  And wouldn't she come to regret her decision to sacrifice the cottage eventually? Maybe not tonight, when they were so ridiculously hot for each other. But if the sex ran its course, and they parted ways, what if she was still looking for a place six months from now? How would he feel then if he ran into her at some random Open House and she looked at him reproachfully? He would feel like complete shit.

  Bottom line was, he wanted to make her happy. And that meant giving her both a place to live and mind-shattering orgasms. According to her, that was only going to happen if he could wait until her place was complete. But that could take six months. He could not wait that long to get her naked. It was a physical impossibility. Maybe there could be some kind of compromise?

  "What, exactly did you have in mind? I mean, if we held off until after the house was complete? Are we talking no physical contact at all, or just not any full-on sex?" Jack asked, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

  "Jack. No. You can't be serious! I can not wait that long to be with you. Let's just forget about the whole house thing." Lacey said, reaching up to slip her arms around his neck. "Let's just drive back to my place, light some candles, and take a bubble bath together instead. Okay?" She got up on her tip-toes and kissed the side of his neck. "Wouldn't that be fun? I've always wanted to do that. My tub is kind of tiny, and you're so big, but if we really squeezed, I'm sure we could make it work. Don't you think?" She said, nibbling her way upto his ear as she rubbed her breasts against his hard chest.

  Jack felt his control slipping again as he imagined Lacey, naked, wet and covered in bubbles, her tits bobbing up and down as she rode him hard in her tiny little bath tub. He could have that tonight, probably within the hour, if he just ignored his stupid conscience.

  Or better yet, the parking lot was deserted, and all the businesses nearby were closed for the night. If she was into it, he could have her on her hands and knees in the back of the truck in no time at all. That's what he wanted, he wanted it so bad his hands were actually shaking. But if even thinking of allowing her to sacrifice her home made him feel guilty, then how could he live with himself if he actually did become that shady version of himself? The one who who used women and then abandoned them once his needs were met?

  "Lace? Seriously. What I want is to make the house happen for you, but I need to know how we can make this work. I don't really see how I can have any contact with you at all and not totally ravish you. So, you need to tell me the ground rules. If it was up to me, we would just screw like bunnies at every opportunity. But since that would probably compromise the project, I need to know what waiting means. If you say no kissing, no touching, nothing physical at all, then I don't think I can do it."

  "Jack. I'm sorry, but I think this is an all or nothing proposition. Either we forget about the house or we forget about anything physical between us happening at all. I hate this, but it's just the way it has to be."

  "At all? I thought we were just waiting until the cottage was done?"

  "Jack, that's months from now. What if that nymphomaniac yoga instructor comes along? Or I meet someone else? Will I still have to have sex with you when the cottage is done?"

  "Of course not," Jack growled at this idea.

  "So what I'm saying is that we can't promise that we'll still even be interested in each other months from now. What if we work together and discover we can't stand the sight of one another? Or the chemistry fizzles? If I say I will definitely have sex with you when the house is done, doesn't that make me about the most expensive hooker ever? Instead of fifty dollars for a back alley hand-job, I'll get an entire house. But it's basically the same thing, isn't it?"

  "It wouldn't be like that at all. We could change our minds at any time. I don't want you to feel obligated to have sex with me. It would totally be up to you."

  "But what about you?"

  "What about me? I have absolutely no problem with you using both my body and my building skills. In fact, I encourage it."

  "No, I mean. Doesn't it make you feel a little dirty, knowing that I'm expecting you to put out when the cottage is complete?"

  "Dirty in the best possible way."

  She rolled her eyes at him. "Nope. I think we have to re-evaluate when this is over. If we still want each other then, we'll talk about it. Until then, strictly platonic. With no expectations."

  Jack was appalled
. "And how do you propose we manage that? Are we going to communicate strictly by email and phone? Use Serena to pass notes, like in junior high?Because I don't think I can handle that. I want to see you. A lot. You aren't proposing that we don't even see each other until this is over, are you?"

  "No, I don't want that either. How about this? If your brothers agree and the project gets green-lighted, you and I are going to have to get together to go over plans, and choose materials, right?"

  "Yeah. Probably a lot at first, after the property is rezoned anyway. I'll have some modified plans drawn up in the mean time."

  "Okay, whenever we meet, we'll do it with a lot of people around, so we won't be tempted."

  "You can not be serious. We're going to need chaperones? Did I just walk into a Victorian novel?"

  "Jack, we don't have to do this. I would much rather get on with the threesome with Mr. Bubbles. You're the one that's insisting that we go ahead with the project. I'm just letting you know the only way that will work."

  "But you kissed me. Back at the truck. Why did you do that, if you knew we couldn't couldn't get physical without jeopardizing the project? Maybe if I hadn't tasted you, I could have somehow managed to get through this, blue balls or not. But I can't go back now. Knowing what it's like to touch you, feel you. It will be fucking torture. Or rather, no fucking torture." He was being coarse, he knew it. But he was way beyond being polite.

  "For me too. And I'm sorry I kissed you. Well, not really. I loved it. But it definitely will make this harder. Pun intended, by the way. But you looked so sweet, looking out at my possible new address. I was so excited and grateful, I just lost my head for a second. But the second I did it, I made my choice. I knew I couldn't have both, and I chose you. Without hesitation. So, now, for the last time, do we go back to my place and break out the bubbles, or do we build a house?"

  "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think we're building a house. Damn it." But he didn't let her go, instead he kissed her, with mind-numbing, nerve-tingling passion. He ate at her mouth, as if trying to imprint his taste and the feel of his lips on her memory.

  When he was done, Lacey felt positively woozy, like she'd just drank a bottle of champagne on an empty stomach. She grabbed onto his waist for support and looked up at him. "That was our last kiss, wasn't it?"

  "If I have anything to do with it, that kiss will be continued just as soon as the paint is dry on your new place. Be prepared. This project is going to be completed in record time."

  "So. We're actually doing this, then? No sex until the cottage is done?"

  "I feel like I'm making some kind of pact with an angel rather than a devil, but yeah. Nothing remotely physical until the project is complete." Jack held out his hand to Lacey, and she shook it reluctantly. This was going to be an incredibly long and frustrating six months. He just knew it. Many cold showers and nights spent working into the wee hours were in his future. He just hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake.

  Chapter Six

  Five Months Later

  For once, Lacey was wearing a dress. She'd put a lot of thought into her wardrobe for this meeting and she only hoped she wasn't wasting her time. The wraparound style emphasized her curves and the blue and green mosaic pattern flattered her olive skin and light eyes. It had taken her forever to decide on this particular dress, but she thought the overall look was sexy, but not too slutty. The boots, however, were crossing that line. Black leather and stiletto heeled, they made her feel just a bit like a porn star. But that was kind of the effect she was going for today.

  It was the final builder walk-through on her new cottage and she would be seeing Jack, alone, for the first time in five very long months. He had banned her from the property three weeks ago because he'd said he wanted to surprise her with the final product. But she feared that wasn't the only reason. The tension between them had become so intense that the air seemed to crackle between them when they occupied the same space. It was thrilling, but awful. Thrilling because the electricity between them had only grown more powerful over time, but really terrible because they had begun snapping at each other in frustration.

  Her greatest fear was that something might have changed over the past three weeks. She hadn't seen or spoken to him during that time, and she wondered if he had met someone else. Serena, who had become a good friend during the house building process, hadn't mentioned anything, but that didn't mean anything. Jack could very well have found a kinky lawyer or a horny divorcee to relieve some of that tension. Someone without all of her complications and rules. And since she had set those rules, she would have no choice but to step aside and be happy for him.

  At least she could take solace in her new home. Everything had still been in chaos the last time she'd visited the property, but what had been completed was wonderful. Jack and his brothers had done an incredible job. She had decided to add a bedroom and bathroom to the original one bedroom and one bathroom plan, and everything was done on a slightly less grand scale than Jack's cottage in the woods, but overall she was thrilled with the end result. She was squirming with excitement to see it all put together. If she could just get through this final formality with Jack without making an ass of herself, she could relax and enjoy being a home owner.

  Lacey looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror in the bedroom of her tiny apartment and practiced her most fake smile. This is how she would look when he told her that nothing was going to happen between them. She had blown it. She just knew it. What had she been thinking insisting that they wait so long? She should have compromised with him and things wouldn't have gotten so messed up between them. Would it have really ruined anything if they'd made out a little, or gone for coffee a few times? Why had she been so stupid?

  Grabbing her purse from the front hall table, she left her apartment thinking that it would serve her right if Jack didn't even show up. One of his brothers could do the walk-through just as easily, and avoiding her would certainly make things easier for him if he wanted to opt out of any kind of future hanky-panky with her.

  He was probably with some double-jointed, ex-stripper/brain surgeon right this second. And they probably weren't fighting over tile color. Had she actually done that? Yelled at him? Over tile? What was wrong with her? She never yelled at anyone. Ever. She hadn't even liked her ex-boyfriend, Barry, and yet she had worked like crazy to appear cheerful and easy going around him. But with Jack, someone she really liked, she couldn't seem to hold back her emotions.

  It was like she was another person around him. Someone exciting and unafraid to speak her mind. She kind of loved this new Lacey, but feared her too. She had lived her whole life being afraid that people wouldn't like her if she showed her true colors. And now, she was pretty sure she'd been right all along. Jack couldn't possibly still want her after she'd kept him at arm's length for five months, could he? As if that wasn't bad enough, she'd added insult to injury by arguing with him at every turn too. He'd be out of his mind to still be interested.

  Getting into her little car, she paused, and took a couple of deep breaths to calm the butterflies beating themselves senseless in her stomach. Being sick would not improve this situation. She just had to stay calm and keep her emotions under control. Whatever he said, or did, she would take it in stride. She could handle his rejection with dignity. And if she was wrong, and Jack was still interested in her, she would keep her cool as well. Being in control was key to not getting hurt.

  *****

  Jack was sitting on the top step of the stairs leading up to Lacey's future front door. A familiar perch for him. He felt like he'd spent an inordinate amount of time waiting for Lacey over the past few months.

  Today, she was scheduled to arrive for the final walk-through of her cottage in a few minutes and he was trying to contain his excitement at seeing her again. He was smiling like a fool just thinking about her reaction to the changes he'd made to the original plan. She was going to be so happy. The place had come together beautifully and he w
as so proud to show her his work, and make her dream house a reality.

  It seemed as though he had sat here waiting for her countless times over the past few months. They had met here every Wednesday evening so he could show her the progress they'd made on her place. One of his brothers or Serena or a member of their crew was always around and Jack and Lacey hadn't even touched since that kiss in the Daily Grind parking lot. These meetings at Lacey's cottage were an odd combination of pain and pleasure for Jack, depending on how long they spent together and how frustrated he was.

  Sometimes she came to the build site directly from work. On these visits she would be dressed in formless scrubs, and her hair would be in a practical bun. Not exactly sexy attire, but her beauty still brought him to his knees every single time. Sometimes, when he was really lucky, she would jog to the build site.

  Lacey usually wore an oversized T-shirt and loose-fitting sweatpants for these mid-jog visits or even a boxy reflective running jacket. She never dressed provocatively, but it didn't seem to matter. He salivated like a Pavlovian dog whenever he saw her familiar curvy figure approaching.

  On one particularly hot day, she'd appeared like a wet dream in just a sports bra and spandex shorts, and he'd been forced to cut their visit very short, or suffer what felt like a permanent zipper imprint in his penis. He had spoken quite gruffly to her that day, and had practically walked out in the middle of their paint discussion because he had felt his attention wandering into dangerous territory as he'd watched a single drop of sweat roll down her neck and into the deep swell of her cleavage. It was more than a man could take.

  From that day forward, she dressed like an absolute prude. Even on days when the temperature was sweltering she purposely dressed as frumpy as possible. He appreciated the effort, but it really didn't do any good. He'd suspected that the body under the scrubs and sweats was jaw-dropping and now that his suspicions were confirmed, getting her naked was all he could think about.