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“For you?” I grinned. “Anything.”
She kissed me again, this time slow and sensual, and with more promise. Our plans for celebrating the night out of town might be ruined, but my mind was already racing to form other, more intimate plans.
“Good,” she whispered, nibbling mischievously at my ear. Her breath was hot and moist against my neck. It was making me horny.
“Here’s what I need you to do…”
Forty
KAYLA
The coffees jumped and bounced in the holder beside me, the recyclable paper-pulp absorbing most of the drips that had escaped the purportedly spill-proof lids. It wasn’t the coffee’s fault, though. The gravel road was bumpy to begin with, made even shakier by patches of overgrowth and years of neglect.
Eventually the road opened into a wider clearing, and a long beige house came into view. The structure itself was a double-wide trailer with a worn wooden porch, permanently mounted on blocks. The entire perimeter was skirted with vinyl, except in the places where the ancient siding was cracked or missing.
I parked right beside Adrian’s motorcycle and followed the sound of hammer-blows around back. He was right where I left him the last time I was here, tacking up fallen trim pieces against the exposed fascia. He’d done a marginally decent job on the interior of the old place, but it had been abandoned for so long now he still hadn’t driven the musty smell from the air.
“Eight sugars, french vanilla,” I said cheerily, holding his coffee up to him.
Adrian smirked and rolled his eyes. “Better not be.”
He finished dismounting the ladder, then popped the plastic top and inspected the dark surface of his jet black coffee. After taking a sip, he nodded.
“That your first cup today?”
“Yes.”
“You’d get more done if you made a pot of coffee when you first woke up.”
“I’ve been up since four-thirty,” Adrian grunted. “I got plenty done.”
He was dressed in torn jeans and a faded flannel, over what looked to be a sleeveless white T-shirt painted onto his beautifully-swollen body. His gloves were worn through in places, where I could see the pads of his fingers. His work boots, practically bursting at the seams, bore the stains of a thousand jobs.
But God he looked so. Fucking.Hot.
“Thanks,” he said, saluting me with his coffee cup. He removed a glove, then took another long pull before setting it down and squinting at me. “You coming back for… lunch?”
I couldn’t help but turn two shades redder. ‘Lunch’ was code for being slam-fucked all over the jobsite, which had already happened a few times this week. I’d delivered him a sandwich during my lunch break at the animal hospital, and Adrian had sent me back there on two shaky legs, filled from within with his hot, sticky seed. I’d leaked into my panties for the rest of the day. Since then, I knew to bring a change of panties and carry them with me.
“I’m not going to work today,” I told him. “Actually, I was going to stay and help you.”
His eyebrow arched, the tattoos on his neck stretching tighter as he scratched his stubbled chin. “Oh really?”
His eyes scanned me head to toe, like he was checking out some merchandise. It made me feel warm all over.
“Actually, I kind of had another surprise for you. I—”
Almost on cue, the sound of gravel being crunched beneath tires drew Adrian’s attention to the driveway behind me. His eyes registered what it was, and I saw his shoulders slump.
“Kayla…”
Luke’s truck swung around, kicking up dust as it went. He hopped out and walked over, leaning into my car first to pick up his own coffee from the coffee holder.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I know you said you wanted to keep this place a secret—”
“But you told him anyway?” he demanded angrily.
“Adrian,” I sighed defensively, “you need the help. There’s no way you can finish all this stuff on your own. Your father’s getting out in three days.”
