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“Hello?” I looked in the living room and found it empty, then made my way into the kitchen. I could hear banging outside, and looked out the picture window by the dining room table to see Matthew working on the gazebo.
My father had started it before he lost his job, a weekend passion project that had been put on hold after he got fired. It looked like Matthew was taking matters into his own hands on that.
I grabbed a glass of water and moved back to the window, leaning against the frame and drinking as I watched Matthew. He was shirtless, had sweat covering his big, tattooed and muscular chest. He had to have been out there for hours to be sweating that much.
God, that was so hot.
I started drinking the water a little bit more until I realized it was completely empty. I focused on Matthew, the way his muscles moved under his skin, the way his biceps flexed when he lifted a piece of wood up … was also arousing.
I set the glass on the table and breathed out slowly, wiping a drop of water off the corner of my mouth.
The image of his touches, his kisses, the thought of how he looked at me, this hungry expression in his eyes, like an animal hiding right before it pounced on its prey, turned me on until I felt like I’d pass out.
And that’s how he looked at me, as if I was his very last meal and he’d consume every single part of me.
I found myself heading out back and right to the gazebo. The fencing around our backyard was high enough the neighbors couldn’t see us, but I could hear them talking, could hear the sound of bottles clanking together, could smell the scent of charcoal burning as they fired up the grill.
The sound of Matthew bringing the hammer down was loud, echoing. And the sight of him, with his arms stretched above as he held the piece of wood and hammered a nail in, as his muscles contracted and relaxed, had me wet … drenched.
My panties were already damp and I felt my nipples tingle. I glanced down to see them pressing against the material of my shirt. I was breathing harder and faster the closer I got to him, the images in my mind so filthy they were making me blush.
I stopped when I was a few feet from him. His back was so wide and broad, his jeans hanging low on his hips, his dark belt keeping them up. He had yet to realize I was right there, so close to him that if I just reached out, I could’ve dragged my fingers along his perspiration-dampened skin.
His jeans fit him perfectly, not too tight, not too loose. They molded over his big thighs and tapered down to the dark boots he wore. I dragged my gaze back up the length of his spine and craned my neck a little bit so that I’d be able to look at his face when he turned around.
I knew what I wanted to do in that moment, something so dirty, this exhibitionist part of me rising up. And so I took another step closer, and one more until I was just a few inches from him. I lifted my hand then and placed it on the center of his back, his flesh warm from the sun, damp from the hard work he’d been doing.
I felt him stiffen underneath my palm, and slowly he turned to face me. He was so big, as if working out here was increasing his muscle mass by the second. I licked my lips, no words spoken between us as we stared at each other.
And I could see the change in him, the fact he knew I was aroused, the lust moving between us so fiercely I was surprised it didn’t knock me down.
I looked behind me at the fence, knowing that although they couldn’t see me from their back yard, there was an upstairs window positioned so if somebody looked out it they could see us easily. I looked at the house behind Matthew and saw the same thing.
But that was a risk I was willing to take.
I slipped my hand in his, and then pulled him toward the back of the gazebo, where large pieces of wood were braced against the structure. It gave a little bit of privacy, but not enough that would keep us from prying eyes if it came down to it.
“Ivy,” he said in a gruff, guttural voice.
I placed my hands on his chest and gently pushed him back until he was leaning against the slabs of wood. And then I sank to my knees. I looked up at him, seeing that arousal covering his face, watching how his eyelids went half-mast, how his chest was starting to rise and fall a little bit faster.
