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I check my list for the next address, and my heart jumps.
Because it’s for Phoebe’s house.
FIFTEEN
I’M HORNY, AND I DON’T GIVE A DAMN
“Oh my god, it’s so hot,” I whine to my empty house.
When I heard the extremely obnoxiousboomthis morning, followed by a mysterious ticking noise, I knew something was up. Then the temperature gradually rose in the house. I called one of Chance’s friends to see if he could hang out with them until I got the situation under control.
I called the closest HVAC repair company, and they said it’d be a few hours, so I’m now sprawled out on my couch with the fan going full blast and my sundress up around my waist. Good Lord, I couldn’t have survived before air conditioning. My phone sounds with an automatic text update that a technician is on their way.
I jump up off the couch, smoothing out my dress, and rush to the kitchen. I made some fresh lemonade this morning, as it’s Chance’s favorite, and this person is going to be my new hero when they get this fixed, so the least I can do is give them a drink.
The doorbell rings, and I set the pitcher onto the counter before heading to open the door. A genuine smile spreads across my face, and a small gasp slips from my lips when I see Isaac on my porch, his toolbox in hand.
I burst out laughing. “Oh my god. I didn’t think about you being who they sent. Are you not on paternity leave anymore?”
“Oh, we don’t get that. I just took some of my sick time, but I’m out now,” he explains. “How are you?”
The undertone of his voice tells me it’s not just a normalhow are you, and I think about Greg the night before.
“I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Except for the damn air conditioning.” I step back and invite him in.
“So, tell me what happened.”
“Well, I was making lemonade and heard a big boom, then several clicks. And then it became my own personal sauna here.”
“Hopefully, I can get that fixed for you.” He glances around, peering at the vents. “I’ll check the outside unit first, and we’ll see what’s going on.”
I nod in agreement, although I know next to nothing about air conditioning, but if he thinks he can fix it, then that’s all that matters to me.
Once he’s back outside, I make my way to the couch and collapse in front of my fan again. I’m already super hot, but Isaac’s presence made it seem stifling here, as if just being here increased the temperature. I stifle a groan, unable to stop myself from imagining how he’d feel if he came into the room right now and saw me spread out, then covered my body with his.
My hands trail over my chest, teasing the peaks of my breasts and pulling them free from my sundress. It’s hot as fuck, I’m horny, and I don’t give a damn anymore. The cool air from the fan hits my sweaty chest, and the sensation is shocking and pleasurable at the same time.
My right hand moves to my thigh, then teases its way to my panties, and I push them to the side with a low hiss. As I’m sliding a finger into myself, a loudclunkshocks me, and I jump, moving to straighten myself. Clicking follows before the low sound of air rushing through my vents fills the room. I can’t believe he’s already fixed it. And dammit, he’s determined to not let me finger myself. That’s the second time I’ve been obstructed by him.
A new fervor in me grows, and I stomp out the front door and around the side of the house, where Isaac is putting away his tools.
He glances up when he hears me coming. “Oh, hey. I got it fixed up.”
I cut him off, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to mine. We’re a sweaty mess of lips and limbs, but he responds enthusiastically, kissing me back as his hands roam over my body. My lips move over his chin, then I pepper kisses along his neck and collarbone, and I push him against my house with more force than I mean to.
“Phoe—”
“Isaac,” I counter, sinking to my knees, my hands dragging down his chest and stopping this wait. We stare at each other for a moment, the heat outside no match for the fire between us. I lick my lips, tasting the salty sweat on my upper lip. This one’s gonna be a scorcher. That’s what the weatherman said this morning.
He had no idea.
Isaac nods, and I spring into action, unzipping his pants. I let out a small gasp as he springs free. As I take the tip of him into my mouth, I grip my hand around his length. One thing about me is I have the most sensitive gag reflex in the world, and I don’t do this lightly. I hated doing it in my marriage because Greg would complain about me gagging and not being able to go deep enough. Maybe Isaac senses my hesitation, because his hand covers mine.
“We don’t have to do this, Phoebe.”
I look up at him and slowly start moving my hand, his still covering mine as the tip of him slides between my lips. He groans, eyes staring at me hungrily, and he moves his hands to brace himself against the house. I lick and suck him, my hand doing most of the work. I don’t want him to hear me gag.
As we move faster and faster, his legs tighten. The speed and my slippery hand are a dangerous combination, and I lose my grip, his dick sliding in further than it should. The choking sound emerges before I can catch myself. I back away, embarrassed, but hopefully I can blame my red cheeks on the heat. I grip him again, pumping faster and faster, sticking my tongue out to lick the tip as my hand works.
