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I shook my head, pointing at the ladder, dying to know what the bottoms looked like. “I swear to God, Duchess.”
She rolled her eyes. “Really? I look like a farmer in these overalls.”
“Go.” I pointed at the ladder again.
With a huff, she descended, mumbling something about pigs and cocks and me being a child, but I didn’t ask.
Jessa waited at the bottom of the ladder with her arms folded, following me when I passed her. I’d set up in the front, table saw, two-by-fours, plywood and all.
“All right, come here—we’re going to cut these to build a frame.”
Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Ooh, I get to use the saw?”
“I oughtta make you put a shirt on first.”
“Why, are you tempted?”
“You could get hurt from splintered wood. Also, yes. Put these on, at least.” I handed her a pair of safety glasses and picked up a plank. Once it was in place, I stood behind her and guided her hand to pull down the blade and cut the board with a noisy zzzzt.
The laugh that tore out of her was a wild, giddy sound. “Again!”
I couldn’t help but laugh with her as we cut the wood we’d need. I couldn’t help but notice her ass against my cock, nor could I ignore the smell of her mingling with freshly cut wood.
“Now what?” she asked, grinning.
And it was with that eager disposition that we worked on the roof for the next while, framing up the hole and measuring for the patch. She cut it all on her own with much whooping and many giggles before we headed back up to the roof with the plywood, shingles, and the rest of our supplies.
I’d laid it all out on the roof, and when I turned around, Jessa was squinting up at the sky, her overalls undone and the bib hanging off her waist, hand on her hip. Every visible inch of skin was glistening, and I watched her wipe her brow like she was in a Sports Illustrated spread.
She shielded her eyes and glanced at me. “What? Lord, Remy—you’ve seen me stark naked. Surely you can handle this.”
“Surely.” The word was rough, gravelly, low.
Something in her shifted at the sound, tightened in desire, curled in mischief. “It’s so hot,” she said matter-of-factly, unfastening the button at her hip. “I don’t know how anyone can stand the heat.”
Half of her was fucking with me. The other half was decidedly not.
I swallowed hard, turning to the patch. “You get used to it.” Once I’d dropped the plywood into place and approved the fit, Jessa stepped into my periphery with a hammer in one hand, nails in the other, and nothing on her godforsaken body except that tiny bikini and a pair of muddy leather sneakers.
She ignored me completely, looking down at the patch, nodding like she knew what she was looking at. I did not ignore her. It was foolish to think I could have, not with the teeny-tiny triangles barely covering her gorgeous tits, the hard tips of her nipples leaving nothing to guesswork. The bottoms, God bless them, were also tiny, barely keeping her pussy contained and leaving three quarters of her ass on display. What fabric there was gathered just a little between her ass cheeks, spotlighting the split I’d have given my right arm to get inside of. The ties were high on her hips, and my eyes lingered on those stringy Bocephus-colored temptations. One tug, and she’d be naked.
The fire that ate its way through me was a force beyond my control. And when she laid out her overalls and got on all fours to get a good look at the seam, I almost lost it.
I had to touch her or I was going to fucking die. I’d combust on the fucking spot. There had to be a way to have my cake, eat my cake, and fuck it all night too.
A slow smile spread across my face as I stepped behind her, dropped to my knees, took a moment to admire her ass. And then I hinged, putting my hands outside of hers, caging her beneath me. Her breath was loud and shallow, the seam of my jeans shifting against her ass as I settled in behind her. The scruff of my beard rasped her cheek, my lips almost touching her shoulder as I nuzzled her. Goosebumps raced across her skin, and I smiled like the devil.
“It occurs to me that we never decided exactly what constituted losing the bet,” I said softly, my lips grazing the shell of her ear.
“Didn’t we?” she breathed, her back arching ever so slightly, hips shifting as she wiggled beneath me.
“We did not. ”
“Oh.” It was almost a whisper. I wondered absently if her pussy was soaked. My fingertips ached to find out.
“So let’s say loser kisses the other first.”
She stilled beneath me. “A kiss? That’s all?”
