Trading with the Boys: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Krista Wolf

Tate blinked twice as if he hadn’t expected my answer, then smiled. “I’ve got a carburetor to rebuild tonight,” he said. “I could start tomorrow though, after work.”

  “Fine then,” I agreed. “I’ll make us dinner.”

  “Cool.”

  It was that simple, that quick. The entire transaction had happened in the span of ten or fifteen seconds, and the next thing I knew we were exchanging phone numbers.

  “I’ll need to bring tools,” Tate said. “Is it okay if I leave them here?”

  “Of course.”

  He nodded again without breaking eye contact. There was still something between us — an electricity, or unseen charge in the void between our bodies. But now that energy was somewhat subdued.

  Not subdued, another voice rang out. Postponed.

  “See you tomorrow night then,” said Tate, turning back in the direction of the driveway. “Seven O’clock-ish.”

  He was almost back to his truck when I somehow found my voice again.

  “Cool.”

  Six

  SERENA

  Working the early shift at the restaurant generally sucked, and I avoided it when possible. For one you had less tables, and therefore less tips. You were on your feet just as much though, and often tasked with doing cleanup and maintenance work you wouldn’t normally get the pleasure of on a busy night.

  The benefits involved getting out while it was still daylight, and taking the bus home instead of a more expensive Uber. Ideally though, I’d have a car soon. A really good car.

  Not just good. Classic.

  It worked out perfectly that I’d be home tonight, because I’d promised Tate dinner without even really consulting my schedule. The hot, sexy mechanic had been running through my mind all day. I couldn’t stop thinking about his arms, his shoulders, his piercing emerald eyes. Most of all I kept replaying our conversation in the garage, trying to figure out what it might entail. What kind of payment he might ultimately exact from me, in exchange for putting my ex-husband’s midlife crisis project back together.

  Well Serena… what are you willing to pay?

  Butterflies exploded somewhere below my navel, thinking of the implications. The ideas in my head were crazy! Stupid! Outright wrong!

  And yet…

  And yet somehow it excited me beyond everything else, just thinking about what he might want. It turned me on to think about how I might pay him, using my lips, my mouth, my body…

  I shuddered, shoving away the thoughts even as I tried to cling to them. Maybe he wouldn’t want anything. Maybe he’d just accept the paltry few hundred dollars I’d been saving for a junker, and he’d walk away as simply a friend who did me a favor.

  Yeah, right.

  I’d considered the age difference, but that part turned me on too. At thirty-two and twenty-two, we were only ten years apart. A whole decade seemed almost insurmountable, yet at the same time, for what we might be doing together? That decade wouldn’t matter at all.

  In fact, it might even work to our advantage.

  I sighed again on the walk back from the corner store, where I’d picked up enough groceries to put together a decent dinner. I’d taken a different bus stop, only a mile from my house.

  “It’s been too long,” I mumbled to myself, pushing the thoughts away again. “You’re oversexed. Underlaid.”

  That part was starkly true, though I didn’t like to admit it. In the almost three years since Eric and I divorced, I’d gone out on only a handful of dates. None of them ended up as boyfriends, and only one got even remotely romantic. The whole thing ended in bitter disappointment, both physically and emotionally.

  The sad truth of it was I didn’t have time for a boyfriend. I didn’t even have time for myself.

  “Tonight though, dinner.”

  It cheered me up instantly, thinking about cooking for Tate. I hadn’t cooked for anyone but myself since David shuffled off to school, and even on the rare occasions he returned home he barely stayed long enough to gather more things. My stepson’s room emptied out little by little, until there was nothing left. His bedroom lay empty now, alongside the equally-empty room my ex and I planned to use as a nursery, once we were ready to have a baby together.

  Nothing changes if nothing changes.

  It was one of the final things I’d said to Eric. My last-ditch effort to get him to pay attention to our marriage, and to take seriously the things I wanted. Instead, he’d waved me away and continued focusing on his career. His trips overseas grew longer and more frequent, until finally the day he sent me the email that ended all else between us.

  Shit. I was getting too deep in the past again.

  Lifting my chin, I shifted the bag of groceries to my other arm and continued walking. Tonight I was going to have fun. I was going to make a delicious dinner and sit down and eat it with a dashingly handsome mechanic, and if he wanted something interesting for his efforts I was probably going to give it to him. I decided I wouldn’t feel cheap or guilty or anything else about it, and for one very good reason.

  And that’s because it’s what I wanted too.

  The roar of a distant lawnmower grew louder as I approached the house, until I realized it was coming from my house. Or to be more accurate, my back lawn.

  Jacob?

  He was finishing up, just like last time. I watched as my shirtless landscaper killed the engine and disconnected the bag, prepping to empty it into the same mulch pile he always did. I adjusted my pace along the sidewalk, dropping my bag on the porch so I could reach him just as he turned around.

  “I thought I fired you?”

  Startled by my sudden appearance but not rattled, he smirked back at me. “Yeah, that didn’t take.”

  He was glistening all over, but this time he didn’t reach for his shirt. His lithe, ripped body looked even more delicious than it did last time.

  “I can’t pay you.”

  He shrugged and continued working. “So what?”

  “So plenty!” I said. “Besides, I thought I was going to cut the lawn myself?”

  “Do you have an edger?”

  I blinked. “What’s that?”

  He pointed back to his truck. “It’s that machine that puts that nice sharp edge on your flower beds,” he said. “It doesn’t just happen by magic, you know.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you have a weed-whacker?”

  I shook my head. “Do I really need one?”

  “If you want to cut the grass right up against the fence, and around your trees? Yes.”

  For a moment I just stood there, speechless.

  “Never really thought of those things?”

  “No,” I admitted. “I had no idea.”

  “Well that’s good, because you don’t have to. I’m your landscaper. You let me worry about them.”

  He looked me up and down for a moment, then went back to remounting the mower’s attachment. I watched his arms flex in the sun, the lats of his back stretching beautifully as he reached down to clip it on.

  “Jacob, listen. I really—”

  Suddenly he took my hand, then pulled me into the shade. We were at the far edge of the yard. Standing beneath the big oak that I always wanted to hang a bird feeder from.

  He walked me backward, pinning me against the tree. And then without warning…

  Holy shit—

  … his lips were against mine.

  Seven

  SERENA

  Jacob’s beautiful lips were rolling. Moving. Kissing me in the slowest, most sensuous way possible, as his calloused, sun-bronzed hand slid upward. Ever-so-gently it cradled my face, barely touching me as I gasped softly into his mouth.

  My God.

  I was kissing him back in an instant. Tilting my head to one side, as his tongue slipped past my lips and began eagerly exploring my mouth. His body was pure, unadulterated heat. I could feel it radiating outward as he all but pressed himself against me, stopping only to take one of my hands and then reposition it, trembli
ng, on one of his naked hips.

  Ohhhh…

  Our kiss became a makeout session, as we went at each other hungrily. No words were exchanged. Nothing really needed to be said. It was only Jacob’s lips on mine, his loving hand on my cheek. Our tongues swirling hotly together, as we consummated our mutual attraction by immersing it in good old unstoppable lust.

  Serena!

  Not even the voice of reason could keep me from sliding the hand on his hip upward and over. I enjoyed every inch of his hard, youthful body, until my fingers were splayed in five different directions across one side of his magnificent chest.

  I could feel his heart thundering beneath my palm; his pulse slow, steady, powerful. His other hand went to my waist and squeezed me tight, locking me in place as he devoured my mouth. I whimpered and moaned, writhing happily against his lips, but my noises of pleasure only made him more voracious.

  And then just as suddenly as it all began, it was over. Our kiss broke, leaving me hanging on my tiptoes as Jacob took a step backward. Only the very tips of his fingers still touched my face.

  “Serena?”

  “Yes?” I breathed.

  “See you next week.”

  I watched numbly as he gathered the last of his equipment, driving it up the ramp and into his truck. Then he hopped in, pulled out, and waved as he disappeared down the street.

  Holy shit.

  It was a full minute before I could move my legs again. Even then, I could barely feel them. I glided my way back to the house, still not entirely sure of what just happened.

  All I knew was the whole thing had been incredible.

  Did that really just happen?

  I knew it had, because my heart was still racing a mile a minute. I could still feel Jacob’s lips against mine. That perfectly hard body, radiating warmth and heat beneath my open palm.

  Yes. It sure did.

  I could still smell the scent of him on my body. I could still taste him! Best of all I could close my eyes and recall the feel of him, especially the touch of his hand on my face. The pads of his fingers had lingered so tenderly against my cheek, it sent shivers of excitement rocketing through me.

  Back on the front porch, I stared down at the bag of groceries like I’d never seen it before in my life. It took a second or two to get my bearings, and then I remembered:

  Tate.

  My stomach did a slow somersault. I only had a couple of hours before the mechanic got here. I still had to clean the house, take a shower, prep the kitchen…

  Whatever it was that just happened with Jacob, I’d have to consider it later. Hell, I was even looking forward to considering it later.

  But first things first.

  Eight

  SERENA

  “And that was it? He just never came home?”

  I shrugged, twirling the last of my angel-hair pasta onto my fork. “It wasn’t really his home at that point,” I said. “If it ever was to begin with.”

  Tate sat across the kitchen table from me, looking a thousand times more cleaned up than the last time I’d seen him. After ogling him throughout the meal I still didn’t know which I liked better: seeing him clean or dirty.

  “His father was gone by then, and his mother still lives clear across the country,” I went on. “Maybe he spent his teenage years in this house, but between school and practice and friends, he was rarely here to begin with.”

  We’d been talking about David, of course. But other than playing basketball together, the mechanic who graduated with him barely knew my stepson. Come to think of it, we were in the same boat in that regard.

  “He lived here for a while after his dad left, but his heart just wasn’t in it,” I continued. “I couldn’t really blame him. One night he sat down with me and asked for tuition to study in Florida. Aeronautics. Daytona Beach.”

  “And you sent him?”

  “For a while, yes. His father refused him, and I was in a position to help. Plus he’d never asked me for anything before.”

  “You did a good thing,” Tate reiterated. “Not everyone in your position would’ve done that.”

  I nodded appreciatively. “It cost me everything, though. Very quickly I was in over my head.”

  “You’re still in over your head,” Tate pointed out.

  “Yeah,” I agreed sullenly. “About a semester and a half later the school called, looking for David. Apparently he hadn’t been going to classes. He met some girl from Bolivia who was in Florida on a student visa, and followed her home. He’s been there ever since.”

  “And he never even called you?”

  “No, but I called him once though. He said he was sorry. Something about falling in love.”

  Tate bunched up his napkin and wiped the corners of his mouth. “He’s a self-centered asshole,” he grunted. “Always was. Never passed the ball. Never did anything on the court but the bare minimum.”

  He slid his chair back and stood up, sliding his big arms into the jumpsuit that was bunched around his waist. It was a clean one this time, freshly-laundered. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pair of gloves.

  “This was delicious by the way,” he said, indicating dinner. “Thank you.”

  I smiled, trying not to blush. “You’re very welcome.”

  “Got any more of those?” he asked, pointing to his empty bottle of beer. “I’ll take one out to the garage if you don’t mind.”

  I hurried to the fridge and grabbed him a cold one. The six pack I’d picked up on the way home was half gone. Next time I’d get a twelve.

  “Tate?”

  He turned back at the side doorway, twisting his body half in and half out.

  “Thanks for doing this,” I said. “But if you go in there and it turns out it’s too much work, I’ll totally understand. Honestly, that thing hasn’t been touched in years. It’s in about a million pieces.”

  His eyes flared, like I’d said something interesting. Or more accurately, as if I’d just given him a challenge.

  “If the parts are all there, we’ll be driving this thing out of your garage together,” he declared confidently. “Might just take a few weeks.”

  I watched him stomp off, closing the door on his beautiful, bubble-shaped ass. Part me was relieved that I could relax now, and finally let my guard down. The other part of me didn’t want to see him go.

  Now what?

  I didn’t know what the gorgeous mechanic would do in there, or how long he’d be doing it. I only knew that rather than distract him, I’d try to relax a little. He’d flirted with me a bit at dinner, but hadn’t made a move. It was entirely possible I’d misread his intentions.

  Or maybe you just haven’t made yours well-enough known.

  It was crazy how much I’d been thinking about him in the past twenty-four hours. I’d emboldened myself for what might happen, and chastised myself for wanting it. In the end I’d decided to roll with whatever went on. Even if the only thing going on was me, my couch, and my television remote.

  Ah, but Jacob though…

  It wasn’t long before I was thinking about my landscaper again. I flipped on one of my guiltier pleasures — one of those competitive cooking shows — and settled back to rest my tired feet. Jacob’s kiss had been hot, delicious, and entirely unexpected. And there were so many forbidden elements to it! You had the older-younger thing going on. The employer-employee aspect of it.

  That part isn’t technically true anymore.

  No, I supposed it wasn’t. If he were cutting my lawn for free I guessed our business relationship was pretty much over. I was ‘Serena’ now, and he’d called me by my name. Not Mrs. Nelson. Not Ms. McShane.

  I thought about these things even as my mind wandered back and forth between him and Tate. Twice I got up to check on my hot mechanic, and each time I’d brought him another cold beer. He was bent over the open hood of the bright red muscle-car, either putting things in or taking things out. Other than grunting a ‘thanks’ he didn’t say much. But I could see
he was working feverishly.

  Sometime after eleven o’clock I began dozing off on the couch. As much as I wanted to stay up I just couldn’t help it. I was drifting dreamlessly, stuck between the hazy state of consciousness and unconsciousness when I abruptly sat up.

  “All the parts are there,” said Tate, standing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. “Every last one of them.”

  He’d removed his gloves, peeled off his jumpsuit, and was back in jeans and a T-shirt. Right now, his arms still pumped from the exertion of work, he looked especially magnificent.

  “Good,” I smiled groggily, rising to my feet. “That’s good, right?”

  He crossed the room wordlessly, before I could even react. And then suddenly I was being crushed against him. My body was completely enveloped in his arms, as he buried his face in my neck and began kissing me in ways that made my legs fold out from under me.

  Oh my GOD…

  I didn’t have to stand up for long. After less than a minute of tickling my neck with his sexy stubble Tate shoved me backwards, and onto the couch. I gasped as I fell, sprawling helpless before him. Then, before I knew what was happening…

  … he dropped to his knees and slid his hands up my thighs.

  Nine

  SERENA

  I’d worn another sundress tonight — my cutest one — and my favorite pair of panties. They were my ‘just in case’ panties. The ones I’d reserved for the time and place where I might revive my failing love life once again.

  It turned out I shouldn’t even have bothered. Tate’s hands slid up my naked thighs and hooked the waistband nimbly between his calloused fingers. Kneeling on the floor before me, our eyes locked. A split-second later I was lifting my hips for him.

  Holy shit Serena…

  My gorgeous mechanic rolled my underwear down my naked thighs, sliding his hands over my skin the entire way. My body exploded with goosebumps. My heart was pounding so hard, I thought it might come out of my chest.