Page 9 of Handy

I’m naked in Griff’s house! Not in his bed or anything, butstill. This might be even more exciting than seeing the cranes. Well, maybe notmoreexciting. If Griff was naked in here with me, nowthatwould be more exciting than the cranes. But since I am still alone and theywerewhooping cranes, I think they still win this round. It’s a very close second though.

While I wait for the water to heat up, I peek into some of the cabinets and drawers, even though it’s bad house guest etiquette. There’s nothing exciting. Extra toothpaste, floss, beard oils, and razors. The mirror starts to fog with steam, so I abandon my snooping and step into the shower. I groan under the hot water. The plaster drying in my hair drove me crazy all night, itching and flaking. It wasn’t until this morning that the brilliant idea hit me to come over here and ask to use Griff’s shower. I was going to be less weird about it and wait until he came out with his coffee to pop out and ask, but then I spotted the cranes in my front yard and all bets were off.

I stick my head under the water to get my hair wet, then shake it out of my eyes and look around the shower. His shampoo is the same as the rest of his toiletries—basic, no frills. It’s the shampoo you grab at the supermarket because it’s on sale and you don’t really care what you use. I wonder if there’s anything Griff is particular about. What’s the thing he has to have a certain brand of? What’s the item he would drive to the next town over for if it was out of stock here? I pick up the shampoo bottle and my gaze lands on something behind it.Something far more interesting than shampoo. I grin and my cock jerks.

“Hello,” I mutter with a chuckle, setting the shampoo down and picking up the small bottle of lube. It’s a generic brand like everything else, and the bottle is half-empty.

The image fills my mind of Griff standing right here with his hard dick in his hand, water cascading over his body. My cock thickens and aches. Fuck, if snooping in his cabinets was bad etiquette, jerking off in his shower, withhislube, has got to be even worse. There has to be something wrong with me, because that only makes my dick harder. I reach down and stroke my shaft with a couple of slow, loose tugs. Goose bumps erupt over my skin in spite of the hot water and the steam heavy in the air around me.

“Fuck it,” I mutter, pulling my hand off my dick, clicking the cap open with my thumb, and pouring some lube into my palm.

Wrapping my slicked hand around my stiff, throbbing shaft again, I groan and sag against the wall. I brace my free hand against the slippery tile, huffing out a shuddering breath and pumping my hand slowly up and down the length of my cock. I let my head hang forward and I close my eyes, picturing Griff again. I bet he has big balls that swing and bounce with every stroke of his cock. I try to imagine the deep, purring sounds he might make withmyhand wrapped around his cock instead of his own. I imagine all that dark body hair of his dripping wet and matted down, rivulets of water running down his skin, gathering the flavor of his sweat along the way.

I bite my lip against a louder grunt, thrusting into my grip, my cock sliding easily through my slicked fist. There’s something so filthy and intimate about stealing his lube. Like we’re sharing a jerk-off sleeve or a cum rag.

A heated shudder rocks my body, and I choke back another moan, snapping my hips faster. I want to stay in here until thewater runs cold, thinking about the ways I plan to make Griff grunt and moan later. Unfortunately, I can’t spend all morning in Griff’s shower playing with my cock, as much fun as that would be.

Does he suspect I’m jerking off in here? I picture him standing outside the bathroom door with his ear pressed up against it, his hand down his shorts and his breathing heavy as he strains to hear the muffled sounds of me getting myself off.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I pant quietly, letting myself groan just alittlelouder. Not enough that he could hear me from the kitchen, but maybe loud enough that he could hear me if he were in the hallway trying to listen.

My toes curl against the slick porcelain tub and my balls tighten. I clench my jaw and grunt one last time as my cock starts to pulse in my fist, spilling streaks of cum down the tile wall. It dribbles down and clings in thick globs, evidence of my very naughty house guest behavior. I shudder and pant, sagging a little harder against the wall and trying to catch my breath.

Fuck, I hope he lets me get my hands on him tonight. I want to make that big grizzly bear roar. I wipe my cum off the walls and get my footing again, then grab the shampoo and hurry through the rest of my shower before toweling off and getting dressed. On my way out of Griff’s bathroom, I snag one last thing.

I peek into the kitchen and find it empty. My stomach sinks. Maybe he already took off for work? I slip my shoes on and head for the back door.

I stop in my tracks right outside and grin.

“Hey, you’re still here.”

He grunts, leaning against the railing and taking a sip of his coffee. He runs his eyes over me slowly. His gaze smolders through his usual scowl, heating my skin and tempting my cock to wake up and go again.

I can feel the weight of what I grabbed in my back pocket. I smirk wider and reach back to tug it out. It takes a second for Griff’s eyes to focus on it. When they do, his gaze darkens a little more. He puffs his chest up and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“What—”

“I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed this. I’m out and I figured I’d need it for tonight.” I wave the bottle of lube that’s still slightly damp from the shower and a little less than half-full now.

Griff’s eyes follow it and his throat bobs hard with a swallow.

“That’s fine,” he says in a low, gruff voice.

“Cool. I’ll see you later then.” I shoot him a wink and head home to get ready for work.

Something tells me it’s going to be a long day, but at least I have something to look forward to at the end of it.

Chapter 5

GRIFF

I groan and palmmy cock through my jeans as I roll to a stop at a quiet intersection.

“Come on, I can’t walk onto the jobsite with a hard-on,” I grunt, pressing on the stiff length resting hot and insistent against one thigh. I tried to get the image of Ledger’s smirk, full of filthy promises, out of my head while I finished my coffee, but it only burrowed itself deeper into my brain.

My gut tightens with a molten feeling of need that I haven’t felt in years. That I haven’tletmyself feel in years. Not that I’ve been actively avoiding moving on, but I haven’t exactly been motivated to actually do anything about it either.

And then there’s Ledger, bold as all hell, offering me sex in exchange for handiwork and stealing the lube right out of my shower to playfully tease me with. My cock throbs against my palm and I huff out a grunting kind of laugh. He’s something else, that’s for sure. I can’t tell if I like it or if I’m just enjoying the novelty for now. That’s probably all he’s doing—entertaininghimself by seducing his grumpy older neighbor because there isn’t much else to do around here.

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