Open House (Kingston Bros.)

by Larson, Tamara

  Despite the discomfort of unsatisfied sexual tension screaming between them, he still anticipated her visits like a kid on Christmas morning. When Lacey arrived he felt alive. Annoyed and horny as hell, but alive. And the rest of the time was just dead space until her next visit. This wasn't healthy. He knew that. Especially for someone who wasn't supposed to be interested in a relationship.

  Over the past few weeks it had become pretty evident to him that despite his best intentions he was already involved with Lacey. They had an odd, unconsummated relationship which had been on hold for five months, but still, it was definitely a relationship. And it wasn't nearly as scary as he'd thought. In fact, except for the no sex part, it felt very natural. And his guilt and grief over his wife and son's death had finally receded to a manageable level.

  He'd stopped constantly reliving that day. His mind no longer circled all the possible ways he could have prevented the accident. For so long, his objective had been to focus on the immediate task at hand to distract himself from thoughts of the past. It took all his effort to get through each day without succumbing to despair, and most days he failed miserably at this. But now he could contemplate the future and actually felt like there might be something to look forward to in life. Because of her. She simply made him happy. Well, at least she did before the friction made them so crazy, and they started arguing over stupid things.

  As an outlet for their passion the sniping wasn't very satisfying, but it did give him a chance to really get to know Lacey. He felt he'd seen her at her very worst, and her worst was still pretty damn cute. And funny. She made him laugh even when he wanted to pull his hair out in frustration. This was a woman he could fight with and make up with for the rest of his life. He only hoped her feelings hadn't changed. He had, after all, banned her from her own house. Not because he didn't want to see her, but because he really couldn't handle being around her anymore without some kind of relief from the tension. And they were so close to being done. If he could just live through this walk-through, then they could take things to the next level. He only hoped the next level included some hugely anticipated sex, and hopefully a whole lot more. Maybe even love?

  A familiar little red car pulled up in front of the cottage, and Jack rose from his step to greet his woman. He watched Lacey get out of the car, and throw her sunglasses on the dashboard. She was wearing a dress and her long, dark hair wasn't in a ponytail or a bun for a change. He was amazed to see that it fell halfway down her back in a glossy, wavy cloud. His mouth went dry as she stepped around the car and he saw those boots. He rarely noticed women's footwear, but Lacey in fuck-me heels was a sight to behold. He grinned inwardly as she nearly stumbled coming up the cobblestone walk. Obviously, she wasn't as comfortable as she looked in those lethally sexy boots.

  "Hi Jack," she said breathlessly, as she climbed up the stairs to join him on the porch. Any intention she had to be calm and cool flew out the window the second she saw him waiting for her. He was even more handsome than she remembered. And he was wearing a tie, white dress shirt and what looked like wool slacks. No denim or plaid or Oscar the Grouch T-shirt. He was dressed up. It even looked like he'd had his hair cut. He looked positively polished.

  What did this mean exactly? Was he trying to look his best for her, or was his formal attire part of keeping a professional distance between them? If that was his intention, it wasn't working. She wanted to rip that tie off with her teeth and tie him to the closest headboard with it. She wasn't feeling very professional at all. In fact, if he didn't outright reject her, she had a feeling her new non-boring wild side might make an appearance. Seeing him again just made her realize how much she had missed him and how stupid she had been to waste so much time.

  Jack took her hand as she reached him and brought her knuckles up to his lips. He noticed that even her short nails were painted a dark, sexy red. "You look beautiful," he said. "No scrubs today?"

  "Not today. It felt like a special occasion. You look very nice too. I think you combed your hair." She reached up and ran her other hand through his silky strands. "I like it a little messy though." She shook it out a little, and smiled into his eyes as his hair settled back into its usual casual disarray. "There, that's better. Now you look like Jack."

  "C'mon," he said, his voice gruff. "Let's check out your new digs. You ready?"

  "Yup, I really can't wait to see what you've done here. But with all the anticipation, I'm a little worried that it'll be anti-climactic. I mean, how can it possibly live up to all build-up?"

  "You're still talking about the cottage, right?"

  She laughed and pulled on his arm to urge him through the front door. Walking over the threshold, she stopped in her tracks. It was incredible. They were in a large room that was a combination kitchen/dining/living room open concept design with vaulted ceilings. Wide-plank, glossy, hardwood covered the floors and the walls were painted the same golden beige Lacey's mother had admired in the first row-house they'd seen months ago. Best of all, the kitchen was a stylish oasis with stainless steel appliances and glass fronted, white cupboards.

  "Oh Jack," Lacey squealed. "You were able to put in an island. I can't believe it." Lacey walked over and ran her hands over the huge slab of black granite. The gesture was an unconscious imitation of her reaction to this feature the first time Jack had seen her. "You said it was too expensive."

  Jack ducked his head, pleased at her reaction, but embarrassed at how emotional he felt seeing her delight in such a small thing. It almost felt worth all the sacrifice to see her like this. Five months of blue balls seemed insignificant in comparison to her joy. "Yeah, well, the granite was left over from another job, so I was able to get a great deal on it. Do you like it?" He asked, quietly. It was obvious she did, but he really needed to hear her say it.

  "Oh Jack, I love it. Thank you so much. And what's this?" She spied a clipboard on the far end of the countertop. Clipped to it were some official looking documents, a pen, and a single yellow rose. She picked up the rose and gave it a sniff, sighing at its sweet scent. Glancing at the papers beneath it, she saw a blood test from Jack's doctor detailing a clean bill of health, and beneath that, a checklist.

  Jack didn't comment on the blood test. She could draw her own conclusions from why he left that for her. "That is an incredibly boring checklist, but we need to go through it before this place becomes officially yours."

  "And the rose is always part of this builder's ritual?"

  "Yup, part of the contract, I'm afraid. Supermodel or lumberjack, all my client's get one."

  "Right. And the blood test?"

  "Definitely not part of the house building process, but I thought it would be a good idea if we decided to move onto the non-torturous portion of our relationship. Unless you've met someone else?" He tensed waiting for her response. If she had moved on he was going to howl in frustration. Punching a fist-sized hole through the drywall was also a definite possibility.

  "No, Jack. I haven't met anyone, and I had a similar test last week too. Coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

  Jack beamed. She had been planning on having sex with him, despite the enforced distance between them over the past weeks. Everything was okay between them and he was finally going to be able to live out some of the X-rated fantasies that had been plaguing him for the last five months. He could barely restrain himself from ravishing her right then and there. "So, there's nothing holding us back anymore? You're still interested. I'm still very interested, so I say let's get to this checklist as fast as humanly possible and then we can discuss where and when our first date will happen. What do you say?"

  "Why don't you show me the rest of the cottage before we get down to checklist business, okay? I'm too jazzed to concentrate on it right now. I need to see my new place." She was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

  Jack laughed and took her hand again. "Let's go see the Mistress Bath first." He lead her a few steps down the short hall to a door and pushed through, watching as
Lacey got her first look at her new bathroom.

  Lacey gasped. The Mistress Bath contained an oversized glass-tiled shower, separate commode, double-sinks, and a large garden tub in front of an etched glass window. But what made her gasp was the huge bouquet of yellow roses sitting next to the tub. And next to that was a large, pink plastic bottle of Mr. Bubbles, with a ribbon tied around it.

  "You remembered," she said, picking up the bottle. "I'm overwhelmed."

  "Are you kidding? How can I forget? You said a threesome with you, me, and Mr. Bubbles. A guy doesn't forget something like that. Though, personally, I would prefer a threesome with you, me, and Mrs. Buttersworth someday. Just because I prefer the gender ratio in that scenario."

  "Ewww. Syrup. Okay. But you're doing the clean up afterward."

  "Deal. But are you still interested?"

  "In Mr. Bubbles?"

  "Well, yeah. Him too. But mostly me. Even after all this time. And all the awkwardness of the past few months. Do you still want to be with me?"

  Lacey set the bottle back down on the tub ledge and walked back to him. She reached up to rest her hands on his chest. "Jack, you have no idea how much. It's been awful, the waiting. I'm so sorry for being such a shrew the last few times we met. I don't know where that came from."

  Jack closed his eyes for a moment, savoring her touch after so long. "I know. It was complete hell. But now that the house is done, how do you feel? About us. Giving it a try, I mean. You said, no strings before. But how about now? I feel like there are strings in place already, don't you?"

  "Yeah, there are definitely some strings. Powerful, thick ones. More like ropes."

  Jack couldn’t wait any longer to touch her. He’d been thinking about this moment for months and now she was here, looking up at him with huge crystal blue eyes filled with desire. For him. He couldn’t believe it. It was like all of those fevered dreams, the ones that left him hard and aching in the night, were finally coming true.

  He reached out with one callused palm and cupped her cheek. Her skin was incredibly soft compared to his large, callused fingers. He trailed his thumb across her rosebud-pink, lower lip and was completely shocked when her tongue darted out and touched his thumb delicately.

  He groaned. He couldn’t help it. The erotic sight of her silky tongue touching him, any part of him, even his thumb made him grow instantly hard and impatient to possess her. It took all of his control to be gentle as he lifted her chin, and lowered his mouth to kiss her.

  She tasted so sweet and her body felt very soft and warm against him. Her hands on his chest now gripped his shirt tightly, as if to imprison him. Her lemony scent enveloped him and he felt almost drunk on all of the combined sensations. He was finding it incredibly difficult to ignore his body and its rampant demands to plunge his tongue deeply into her mouth, to simulate how he wanted to slide his hard cock deep into her body and claim her. But he really needed to be gentle. This moment with her mattered and he desperately wanted to show her that this wasn’t just about satisfying an itch and moving on. He wanted to please her. Make her cry out in pleasure.

  To distract himself from the intensity of his desires he focused completely on her mouth, rubbing his lips against hers from one direction and then another, just barely touching her. Allowing his warm breath to tickle across her skin, he tasted her.

  Jack's approach to kissing her this evening was remarkably chaste and yet carnal at the same time. Her nerve endings came alive at the slightest brush of his lips and she longed for him to relieve some of the tension by touching her more aggressively. But one hand still cupped her cheek gently, and the other never strayed from her waist.

  Lacey couldn’t take anymore. She made an impatient sound and let go of the death grip she had on his shirt. Reaching up, she grasped both her arms around his neck, and finally brought her breasts flush against his hard chest. Her nipples, within the lacy cups of her bra, grew hard and unbearably sensitive. Taking control of the kiss he had been torturing her with for what seemed like hours, she touched her tongue to his top lip and traced its curve with just the tip. Then she gripped the silky hair at the back of his head tightly and plunged her tongue deeply between his lips, showing him exactly what she wanted and how she wanted it.

  “You are driving me completely crazy,” he groaned against her lips. “Do you know what you’re doing to me? I feel like I’m about to explode.” He reached down and gripped her buttocks with both hands, lifting her slightly so she could feel him so hard against her soft mound. He flexed his hips against her and they both groaned at the sensation. She parted her thighs slightly and he could feel her heat through their clothing and underwear. Imagining her wet and ready for him made him wild. He lifted her higher and was delighted when she wrapped both warm thighs around his waist and locked her ankles in the small of his back.

  “You feel so good, but you have entirely too many clothes on,” she whispered huskily, tightening her thighs around him to relieve some of the tension between her legs. He obliged by squeezing her more tightly against the prominent ridge in his pants. Her breath caught and she writhed against him, wanting to feel the evidence of his arousal more fully, but it wasn’t enough.

  She desperately wanted to taste his skin. She brought her hands down from his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt. She made quick work of the buttons but was appalled to find a white T-shirt underneath. She yanked the shirt clumsily from the waistband of his pants, reached underneath, and ran her hands along his rippling abs, through the silky hair in the middle of his chest, and finally brushed his nipples with her nails.

  His breathing became harsh and he found her lips with his, kissing her deeply, his tongue rasping against hers in a primal dance of domination. He walked back out the bathroom door and down the short hall toward the kitchen's granite island, every movement causing electric currents of friction to ignite in his aching cock. He placed her gently on the edge of the counter, moved back a step and looked deeply into her eyes for a second while he caressed the silky skin above the tops of her boots. Finally, his hands were free and he was going to touch her as much as he liked.

  “I want you to spread your thighs wider,” he said, watching her. She complied and moved her legs apart just a few more inches. He was so glad she had worn the dress with the full skirt. It gave him much easier access to her sweet little body and he really couldn’t wait too much longer to touch her, everywhere.

  “Wider,” he said, reaching underneath her skirt he pushed gently against the inside of her knees. Now she was fully open and he could just catch the scent of her arousal. He breathed in deeply through his nostrils, drinking her in.

  He stepped between her widely opened thighs until his pelvis was right where he wanted it. He rubbed against her gently and she gripped his hips tightly with both hands to keep him there. The small feminine gasps she made as he ground himself against her were driving him completely mad. She was so warm there between her open thighs that he had the crazy impulse to just rut against her until he came like a teenager in his pants. But he took a deep breath instead and reached behind him, pulling his shirts off in one quick economical gesture, and flung them carelessly onto the granite beside her.

  Lacey could not believe what she was looking at. His chest was incredibly beautiful, wide and hard and sculpted with muscle. Reaching out, she smoothed both hands over his body from waist to shoulder and then back again. His skin was so warm and silky. Leaning forward, she flicked her tongue against one flat copper nipple and was rewarded when he rasped out a curse and gripped her head with both hands to keep her lips on him. She moved to the other nipple and flicked that one too. He groaned and she reached behind him and ran both hands up his gorgeously muscled back, and finally, very slowly trailed them down to squeeze his buttocks. Twice.

  How could he have denied himself this? Jackson thought, looking down at Lacey as she trailed her lips across his chest. He needed it so badly. Her touch. This connection with another person. It had been so long. How
had he survived without it? Without her? If he had his way, everyday would be spent pleasing her, if only he could have her like this, wanting him, needing him. But also giving him the affection he had so desperately craved.

  He loosened his hold on her head and ran his fingers through her long hair, loving the silky feel of it around his hands. He desperately wanted to see it spread out on a pillow as he hovered about her, imagined sliding between her legs as he penetrated her hot, slippery flesh. The fantasy was so vivid in his mind, he could practically feel her parting for him, accepting him eagerly, as he pounded his shaft hard and deep until she sighed his name.

  He grasped the knotted belt tied at the side of her wrap dress, untied the bow and yanked the two sides of the dress apart, perhaps a little too roughly in his eagerness. But she just laughed at his less than smooth manner of undressing her and he smiled into her eyes for a moment. More gently, he took his time sliding the long sleeves down her arms, kissing her shoulder and then the sensitive inside of her elbow as he went until the dress was pooled around her lovely hips. He spread it out around her until she was perched on the edge of the granite countertop in nothing but her bra and panties. “Lie back,” he said, his voice raw with desire. “I want to look at you.”

  Lacey hesitated. She would much rather look at him. Being nearly naked under the harsh light of the pendant lanterns hanging over the island seemed daunting. All her flaws would be highlighted against the cold, slippery granite. What if he noticed that her stomach wasn’t perfectly flat, or that she had a small appendix scar on her abdomen? Thank God, she'd made a visit to her waxer, Wilhemina, this week. But she was determined to move past her insecurities, so instead of covering her chest as she felt compelled to do, she slowly and somewhat gracefully lay back on the countertop, and raised her arms above her head in a gesture of complete trust and surrender.