Love Under Construction (Love By Design 1)

Damn, that first day, though, would probably fuel my fantasies for a good long time. I never knew timberland boots came in a soft dusty blue color; the ones she wore matched her eyes and the frayed denim shorts she wore with them. Cotton cupped her lovely heart-shaped ass and her braid of blond hair tickled the top of her backside, creating the itch of attraction I worked so hard to beat down.

Figuratively.

Literally—in my shower, and often.

It was hopeless.

My dick stirred and I didn’t need that happening right now. Not while Brit was sliding her hands up my leg suggestively as I maneuvered my truck down the main drag in town. She continued her assault, tracking her fin

gers over my jeans and cupping my cock through the tight cotton.

“Brit, come on, I’m driving.” My body hummed with tension. I didn’t think a mindless hop in the sac would help at this point.

“Hunter….” Her voice purred and made me think of a shifty Siamese cat trying to get her lick of milk as she clicked her seatbelt, drawing my attention off the road a second. Another difference between her and Taylor Jane, one was selfish and self-serving while the other was selflessly giving. I turned the truck a little roughly, forcing her to part from me before she crawled back over. The moonlight casted her in a villainous glow I couldn’t shake from my mind. Think Margot Robbie from Suicide Squad… beautiful, but crazy.

“Put your seatbelt on. Seriously, Brit, I’m not having an accident because you’re trying to cop a feel.” From the corner of my eye I spied her pouting and groaned, figuring this could be the start of another pointless fight. The last thing I wanted to do was fight—with anyone.

“Hunter?”

“Come here.” Rolling my eyes, I settled for touching Brit’s hair. It wasn’t nearly as soft as I thought it should be. Fake blond was never as nice as real blond. I would never touch genuine blond locks because Taylor Jane was off limits I reminded myself. Brit had enough to keep me entertained, but nothing I hadn’t enjoyed before. We had an understanding of sorts, though she liked to press the boundaries now and again. She was the type who left shit for me to find, a hairband, a random unworn thong like she was marking her territory. She was my right now girl, not my forever girl, and that was a long ways away, if ever as far as I was concerned.

Visions of the last fight my parents had pounded the back of my skull and I rubbed my neck, trying to relieve the building tension. Brit seemed to sense my need for quiet and left my dick peacefully alone to move her fingers to my shoulders and neck, massaging them suggestively. I’m not going to lie; it felt pretty damn nice and distracted me from going too deep into the memories. After a minute or so she stopped and husked back into her seat, crossing her arms huffing.

Brit popped the glove compartment, riffling through until she found the secure box that held the extra pen I kept for Taylor Jane. “Do you really need to keep Tara’s EpiPen in your truck?” The question brought me back to the moment with a flare of anger.

I grabbed it from her and placed it between us, safely on the seat. My hand tapped the top of the medical pack I kept it in reverently. I probably shouldn’t keep something like the pen in the truck all the time, but it was an old habit to break when we spent so much time in each other’s company years before. I flipped it open to look at the pen, briefly holding it up to the light while I drove, and although expired by a few months it wasn’t cloudy. It was clear and still apparently in good use.

“Taylor Jane, not Tara. Her name is Taylor Jane, and yes I do.” My teeth grinded together barely holding my annoyance and temper in check.

“She sounds pretty careless if her allergy thing is for real.” Tonight was going to be one of those nights where Brit pissed me off me until my cock turtled back up inside my jeans and I drove her home instead of the movie. We weren’t far away, but I would rather turn around now than dread not being able to at least screw this girl who had no designs on me other than my house, my money, and a ring on her finger. My sarcasm ran rampant with this one.

Attempting to explain her behavior wasn’t going to prove a point. Brit already had her mind made up and that was fine, but I felt a need to protect my best friend. “It was a foolish mistake made by a young girl with a heavy crush for the first time. Haven’t you ever done anything foolish for love before?” I forgot how exhausting Brittany could be when she was in a snit over something or didn’t get her way.

“No. Never. Because when I see something, I just go for it. I don’t act like an idiot.” Maybe not, but she was giving me those stage five clinger vibes that told me I needed to cut her loose before things got crazy. If we hit a major gift giving holiday she was likely to think this was way more serious than I wanted it to be.

The last argument we had was over not liking her social media accounts. I didn’t have time for that nonsense, and who gave a crap if her three thousand followers knew her status or not? That was the last thing on my mind when I was busy balancing the books for my company into the wee hours of the night. Hiring Kristen as my accountant was a fleeting thought, although I wasn’t desperate for that kind of entanglement between friends.

“Can we just go to the movie like we planned? I don’t feel up to arguing.”

Brittany never buckled her seat belt and scooted closer to me in the truck, rubbing her body against my own.

“Or… we could go back to your place instead?” She wasn’t particularly coy, which I appreciated when the time was right, but not right now. Soft breasts and octopus hands were drawing me in, but the incessant chatter coming from her mouth ruined any chance of getting off without some serious foreplay for me.

“Let’s go to your place.” I suggested, pushing her back. I grabbed the belt and buckled her into her seat.

She wiggled it loose, practically sitting in my lap. I didn’t feel like washing sheets again this week and I would have to if I wanted to get Brittany’s expensive perfume smell out of my bed. I preferred something cleaner and simpler.

“Better than a movie.” Growling, she grabbed my shirt roughly and pulled me in for a kiss, her other hand snaking down to my dick through my jeans. Our lips touched, the corner of my mouth to hers, but the spark of attraction for her brassy blond hair and pale blue eyes I might have felt the first time wasn’t there any longer. I didn’t treat girls like toys, but Brittany definitely lost her luster after the encounter with Taylor Jane. She was rude and aggressive when I thought about it. I wasn’t sure how much thought I wanted to devote to this. Brittany warmed my bed even though Taylor Jane warmed my heart in that untouchable kind of way. Mixing the two worlds was not going to work if this kept up.

Touching Brit was a distraction at best because she was definitely not soul mate material and I hated Kristen for making me think otherwise. My phone beeped with an incoming text message and I pulled out my vibrating phone to see what it was about.

Damien: SOS

I was closer to the movie theater when I saw my cousin’s message, so I pulled over to answer him. I clicked on the picture message. It was a photo of Taylor Jane’s backside and Kristen, though I only had eyes for one. My decision was easily made when I spoke to her next.

“Brit, let me drive you home. Damien has the shits or something and I need to go pick him up.” I figured there was no harm in throwing the idiot under the bus.

“Seriously, Hunter.” Her finely drawn twin eyebrows arched and I didn’t care if she believed me or not. I was so over this night.