“Christ sake, woman, are you trying to bust my balls? You’ll come home with me, stay in the guest room. Who knows how long this will take? I’m waiting on a call back for the parts now.” Greyson’s hands are on his hips, a look of pure determination on his face.
“Holy shit,” I whoosh out, placing my hands above my head. I mean, it’s a great deal, but it’s a lot, almost too much.
“You act like I’m throwing you over my shoulder, carting you off to my lair, where I’ll have my wicked way with you.” It’s the heat in his tone that tells me if I’d let Greyson, he would absolutely do that.
“Fine, but no funny business. Can I grab my clothes before you unhook it from my car?” I give in. He’s right—there’s nowhere else to go or stay. I could look in another town, but the thought of leaving Samantha, my precious vintage Airstream travel trailer, is upsetting. She’s small but mighty, and I know I’d never leave her too far away.
“Yeah, you can do that. I’ll probably leave it hooked up to your car for the day. I need to work on the front-end loader a bit more. Are you cool with hanging around, or are you going to explore?” Greyson asks. I really am monopolizing a lot of his time. My stomach grumbles, making the decision for me.
“That works. I’ll go grab us some lunch. We should probably exchange numbers though. You may not know about this, but I get lost, a lot.” I shrug my shoulders. My dad tells me I could get lost in a brown paper sack with both ends open. It’s why I use my navigation even when I’m in my hometown.
“Yeah, that might be a good thing to have. Though there’s a sandwich shop across the street. Feel free to take your time.” We exchange numbers, and then I’m off to seek food, fingers crossed, without getting turned around.
Five
Greyson
There’s one thing missing in the bed that I’m lying in alone—the curvy redheaded woman who’s a firecracker is asleep in the bedroom across the hall. The small house I own on the ocean had her eyes popping open in surprise. I’m sure it’s because of the line of work I’m in and how most people think we don’t make much money. It soured my stomach until she squeezed my hand, the first time she touched me on her own besides the handshake.
I whipped us up some dinner, nothing fancy—steak, salad, and a baked potato for each of us. You know, man food. She helped me marinate the steaks, prep the potatoes, and fixed up the salads while I got the grill fired up, then she sat outside with her feet up on the railing, nose to the sun, talking a mile a minute even if I wasn’t asking a question. Serenity was a wealth of knowledge, talking about where she’s been and places she wants to go.
When we were done for the night, we went into our own rooms, saying good night. She was off to take a shower in the hall bathroom, and I in the master bathroom. It sucked having a wall between us. My mind veered into unknown territory, imagining she was in there with me, naked, body glistening wet, my hands on her as I washed her body, getting my mouth on what I imagined were coral-colored nipples, before I skated a path down her body and sunk to my knees. My cock was so hard I barely let the fantasy play out before I was shooting my load. Until I heard the moan. It was muffled, but I could hear it just the same. I timed myself with her. With every moan she let out, I’d slide my hand along my length, twisting when I glided it back up. When Serenity let out the loudest noise of it all, she took me with her. My cum being washed down the drain with the water instead of where I wanted, deep inside her.
My mind is on a reel repeating it over and over again, kicking my own ass because I know sleep isn’t coming to me tonight, and I have an early day tomorrow at the shop. I knife out of bed, throw on a pair of sweatpants, staying as silent as I can be, not wanting to interrupt Serenity’s sleep. I pad down the hall, seeing her door is cracked. Not checking on her is hard, but I know what will happen if I open that door. I’ll make her mine in every way imaginable.
I make it out of the hallway, fucking barely, through the kitchen, open the sliding glass door, thankful that the salt from the ocean air and elements haven’t warped it enough to where it sounds like a rattle can when you’re opening and closing it. That would for sure wake Serenity up.