Page 7 of Rolling in Hot


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“I appreciate it,” I mutter under my breath, trying to chew instead of inhale.

“How long are you guys going to be here?”

“Should be done today.” Her slim shoulders sag and she winces.

“Oh. I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“Yeah. This kind of job doesn’t take too long with my crew. Course you’ll have someone out here in a pretty short while to do it again.”

Her head cocks and her pouty lips purse. My dick jumps but I push it back down.

Bad dick.

“Your dad didn’t want us to grind it out. Said it was too much money.” Her lips pucker up and twist again.

“Yeah, he’s pretty cheap about things like that.”

“Yeah.” I know the type. He’ll gladly blow a fucking fortune on a bottle of wine to impress his ‘friends.’ But he wants all the work done by other people to be as cheap as possible. No bragging to be done about a bunch of black stuff on your driveway.

“Well, since he didn’t have it ground out, it won’t be too long before it starts to break up and crack again. You have to grind it all out to make sure it’s got a good, strong surface to build on.”

She nods like a good little girl. Like she’s listening to one of her professors at school.

“How old are you, Lily?” I ask, knowing I’m not gonna like the answer.

“I’m twenty-two.” She says it proudly. Like she’s so happy to be an adult but my heart sinks.

She’s a baby. Eighteen years younger than me. Almost half my fucking age. This has to stop now. I wipe my mouth with a napkin that she hands me and I stand up, towering over her.

“Thanks for the food, Lily. It was very sweet of you to make something for this crew of old guys. We really appreciate it.”

I wish you weren’t so damn young!

I want to scream and tug at my hair, throw a huge temper tantrum. Because there’s just no way I can have anything to do with this pretty little girl ever again.

“It was nice to meet you, Lily. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

It’s a shitty, half-way of saying that I’m not that guy and I can tell by the look on her face that she wants to argue with me. But the tears sparkling in her pretty blue eyes says she gets it.

And I walk away and back to my truck, sinking into that old seat, feeling every one of my forty years.

And for the rest of the day, she doesn’t come out of the door. I try to ignore the sinking, sick feeling in my belly. Because it’s for the best.

She’s too young and I’m too damn old and tired for a pretty young thing like her.

At the end of the day, I tell the housekeeper that we’re done and she nods, her old eyes sympathetic.

And that part really burns. Because apparently it wasn’t too hard to figure out what was going on. And even she knew I wasn’t good enough for Lily.

I nod and wave as we wave and pack up the last of our things, hitting the road.

But when I get home, I’m still too wired up and I take a shower, pulling out the images of Lily, knowing I shouldn’t but unable to stop as I jack my aching cock in the shower and slip my fingers over the head until I come so hard that it hits the wall and slides down it, leaving a trail of my release slipping down the drain.

Just like any hope that I’ll ever want another woman. I want that woman. And I can’t fucking have her.

I thought I hurt the worst I ever could when my wife left. But this hurts way worse, burning my insides like I’m on fire.

Life fucking sucks.

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