Chapter 29

Diesel

I ’m supposed to be searching for Gunnar, who is the only damn one of us with the full certifications for the kind of delicate electric rewiring that needs to be done, according to Jack, Right. This. Second. Naturally Jack is in the garage, losing his shit because Gunnar is nowhere to be found, and Jack can’t stop being a micromanager, waving that damn clipboard around.

And now I keep hearing sounds echoing through the entryway. I’m thinking it’s a lost kitten, probably stuck in a closet or box of tools or something. Poor thing.

I need to go looking for it, especially when the mewling grows louder and louder. I can’t just leave a kitten to suffer. What kind of sadistic fucker would I be if I didn’t go and search for it?

It sounds like a very insistent and very, very hungry kitten.

Well, well, well. Imagine my utter shock and delight when I follow the mewling down the hall and look over to the stairwell and find a certain vixen laying backward against the stairs, arms up over her head, gripping the banister as if for dear life.

One hundred percent naked.

Her tits are stretched as she grips the banister, and her perky nipples bounce as her breath heaves.

And her legs. Sweet, merciful Lord, her legs . Bare and spread, positioned so that her knees are bent, her feet on one step, and her lacy yellow panties hooked around one ankle.

The only crappy part of the view of her spread legs is Gunnar’s big, stupid head right there in the middle of them, blocking the best part. Guess he found the pussy cat first.

I’m struck with instant jealousy, sure, but I gotta give Gunnar credit where credit is due: he’s clearly got an expert mouth because Winnie’s hungry little kitten mews have become full blown tigress moans, now. She’s not holding back. She’s so loud neither of them even hear me approach.

Gunnar is making his usual oh yum, you taste like honey, smack, smack sounds. Same as I used to hear coming from his room when we were roommates back in our college days, trying to get a music career going. Personally, I think he sounds stupid but Winnie is making cute little answering sounds back, and adding in some whimpers.

Fuck me, my cock is hard as a rock. I want to be the guy making her whimper and mew like that, though, and I try not to wonder what my odds are with Winnie. Why would she choose me, anyway? I’m the only one among all of my brothers who has never even been in a serious relationship. Who knows whether or not I could be faithful to one woman ?

Well, sure, if it’s Winnie, I could. That is one thing I do know without a doubt. But I don’t have any kind of track record to prove it to her.

I hate to ruin their fun – I do, honestly – but Winnie doesn’t even appear close to coming, because Gunnar looks like he’s using his tongue to recite long, languorous love poems into her clit, rather than giving her a quick and dirty lashing.

Like, Gunnar knows we’re on a schedule, right? Jack’s schedule, which is tighter than the Marines, probably.

“Aren’t you afraid of getting sawdust in your coochie?” I say.

Gunnar lifts his head and Winnie’s knees knock together as she tries to hide herself, but because they’re both sex-drunk, their movements are slow.

“That’s exactly what I told him,” Winnie says with a laugh.

Gunnar blinks at me, irritated. “She’s on my shirt.” His frowning mouth drips with her juices, and he wipes his face with the back of his arm.

And Winnie, sweet Lord, even with her knees together, I can see her pussy glistening at me like a beacon.

The underside of her sweet ass cheeks peek out. They are rubbed pink from Gunnar’s shirt, or the stairs, I don’t know, but the sight makes my mouth water. My cock is straining toward her.

“What the fuck do you want, Diesel? You can’t see we’re busy?” Gunnar growls.

“Take it up with Jack. Today is rewiring day, in case you’ve forgotten. ”

Gunnar groans, curses, and then returns to Winnie, spreading her wide again. She tries to hide herself but he hugs her legs, and I ache to be in his place, holding her bare body open to me.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he says with a mischievous laugh. “You’re not finished yet. I want to hear you come.”

“But what about Diesel–” she protests.

“Diesel thinks the view is fantastic from here, thanks,” I reply with a wink. “Please don’t change it.”

She laughs. “But what about Jack?”

That works. With a final aggravated groan, Gunnar lets go, and Winnie closes her legs tight.

Well, as tight as she can when the stairs allow for her cute pink ass and that beckoning pussy of hers to remain on display if I stare enough.

And I do.

Gunnar kisses her. “Have you at least forgotten the bullshit internet comments yet?”

She shakes her head and leans back on her elbows, looking at Gunnar with wide, fuck-me eyes and a pretty pout.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask.

They turn to me in unison.

Winnie stare is sultry, feverish, her teeth caught on her bottom lip. “Yes, please.”

The resignation in Gunnar’s eyes as he looks at me and nods once does make me feel a little bad for the guy. But holy shit. He drops one last kiss on Winnie, this time over her nipple, and she moans, her legs falling open again.

“You’ll probably want to take off your tool belt,” Gunnar snarls at me as he walks away.

Leaving me with my dirtiest fantasy, spread out in front of me. Wanting me. Primed for me. That’s enough to nearly blow my load at the thought.

Ordinarily I love long and extended foreplay, but we are on Jack’s schedule, after all, and my balls are ready to burst.

I strip off my belt and shirt, standing over her, taking her in up close. “You’re really upset about those comments, baby?”

“I know it’s stupid, and I know better than to read the comments, but I’m just sick of all the scrutiny over my fat ass—”

“Whoa, show me this so-called fat ass. I need to judge for myself.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, and as I strip off my jeans, she turns her body around, her knees on the stair, her elbows resting a couple steps up.

With her ass on display, and the way she gazes back at me over her shoulder, I can’t wait anymore.

“Mmm.” I grab her ass cheeks, spreading them before me while she blinks her sinful eyes at me and blushes. “I love this ass.”

I pop my thumb into my mouth, and then brush it across the tight ring of her asshole .

Her eyes widen and her body bucks automatically. I don’t remove my thumb from her tight entrance and she makes a sexy squealing sound deep in her throat.

“That okay?”

She nods, and I love the mix of surprise and excitement in her eyes. I do it again, this time rubbing a circle around her hole. The new sound she lets out is a cross between a squeal and a moan, and so fucking hot I can’t wait anymore.

Her pussy is slick and I slide right in. With her ass in the air, she’s at the perfect angle to be fucked hard, and it doesn’t take more than a few frantic thrusts before we’re both coming together. Our shouts of pleasure are probably loud enough for the others to hear, even at the other side of the house.

“I want to stay inside you forever.” My voice is low and raspy now.

Hers is, too, when she replies, “Then do. Let’s stay like this. They can finish the reno around us.” She sighs deeply. “Screw the hater paparazzi and their stupid photos. God, I feel amazing.”

The smirk tugs at my lips, refusing to be denied. My girl was sex-drunk with Gun, but it seems I’ve taken it to a whole ‘nother level.

I straighten and run my hands over that perfect ass before pulling out. We both shudder when I do. Then I lower my head and press one kiss to each of those voluptuous cheeks.

“Deez!” She sounds embarrassed.

I do it again. “I’m in love with your ass because it is your ass, Winnie Wainwright, and I’m in love with you. ”

I give her ass another nibble and expect her to laugh or groan or anything. “Fuck, Win, I want to spread these sweet cheeks and run my tongue along–”

I realize suddenly that she’s completely silent. Frozen.

It was the L word, wasn’t it? Well, shit. I didn’t mean to say I loved her like that. Or at all.

Everyone knows right after you fuck is the wrong time to tell a girl you love her for the first time. Especially when you’re doing it for the first time.

She doesn’t say anything back.

Fuck.

She clears her throat. “Well. We should probably get dressed before… you know. This becomes a show with a live audience.”

“Probably a good idea,” I agree. Mostly to put any other words between us than my ill-fated I love you.

I help her up. Pick up and pass back her sexy-as-fuck yellow panties. Then, with our backs turned to each other by unspoken agreement, we each put our own clothes on.

“I’m starting to feel like a bit of a nympho,” she admits with an embarrassed chuckle. There’s the sound of fabric against skin. “But I really, really, really like having sex.”

Obviously I’m thrilled that she’s a fan of sex, but I’m not sure what to say now.

I said I was in love with her and she says back something is basically telling me I’m one of ten guys that she really, really likes having sex with?

She’s definitely not choosing me .

“Well.” I pause to swallow the ridiculous emotion I don’t want her to hear in my voice. “You’ve got a lot of ready and willing bodies to give you all the sex you want, peach. So… any time you get an itch, all you’ve gotta do is ask.”

I’m so glad she can’t see my face right now. I probably look like I’ve swallowed one of Cruz’s nasty work boots.

“I know,” she says. “I just don’t want it to seem like I’m in this just to cock-hop. It’s not just about the sex.”

“Too bad,” I tease. “Because if it was just about the sex, I’d automatically be your favorite Hammer. I’m pretty sure I’m the best in bed.”

Should I add that I usually have more staying power?

I sneak a peek over my shoulder. She’s dressed and fixing her overall straps now.

“Well, I’ve never had you in a bed, so I can’t comment on that,” she says, and her tone is teasing too.

She turns around and our eyes meet. And I can’t stop my fucking mouth, again.

“Winnie, I didn’t tell you I’m in love with you just because we had sex.”

She looks down quickly, adjusting a strap on her overalls.

“I loved you before the sex, I mean. I’ve said it hundreds of times in my head. I just couldn’t hold it back anymore.”

She looks up at me with those big eyes. And unless she’s just seen the ghost of Gram, floating around my head, I think it’s safe to say my words are putting an expression of extreme terror on her face.

She doesn’t love me back, clearly .

Well, fuckity-fuck.

“So…” I say hoping to change the subject. “This doesn’t count as my date, does it? Because I was looking forward to tonight.”

To my extreme dismay, she looks more panicked than before.

Fuck, how did I manage to make this worse?

“Do you hear Jack calling us?” she exclaims, suddenly. “I think I hear him. We should go.”

“No–” I start to answer.

Don’t go! I want to finish.

But what I say instead is, “Sounds good, bud.”

I don’t know why I said that, to be honest, but now she’s paying attention instead of walking away.

Her expression is incredulous. “Did… you just call me bud?”

With a sheepish grin, I shrug.

And then, because I don’t want things to stay weird between us, but I am so out of my element here, I resort to childish antics and give her perfect butt cheeks a two-palm squeeze before dashing off ahead of her.

“Hurry up, peach! We’ve got work to do.”