Page 35 of It's Only Love

Dean could feel someone staring at him, he looked up to see Taylor at the other end of the bar glaring down at them. It’s true, he had offered to help but that was before Taylor’s warning. He didn’t want to rescind his offer as that was just downright dickish behavior.

“Sounds good,” he smiled, “when do we start?”

*

Christy was up and dressed early, ready for her and Beau to start working on the house. She was actually quite excited about it, she loved having a project to throw herself into and God knows her writer's block wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe some physical labor would work something loose. There was quite a bit of renovating to do and Beau was fine for it to be done. She thought that he wouldn’t want her to do anything considering he was buying the place, but he was so laid back. It was only cosmetic work; just stuff he would need to do anyway. She knew she didn’t need to do it, but she wanted to, she felt like it was the way for her to leave her final mark on the house. But there were a few basics that needed fixing first.

“Like this goddamn garbage disposal!” she hissed as she bent over the sink wrestling with it. She heard the front door open and Beau call out.

“Christy?”

“I’m in here,” she grunted, flicking the switch again and growling when nothing happened.

“This damn thing won’t work!” There was a beat and then she heard an all too familiar southern drawl.

“Well then I guess I know what my first job is.”

She turned her head to the side, heart pounding in her chest and saw Dean casually leaning against the doorway. His arms folded over his wide chest, big ol’ panty melting smile stretched across his face. He looked cheeky and boyish in his blue t-shirt and faded denim jeans, blond hair all mussed, a light shadow of stubble dusting his jaw. He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her ass which was sticking out as she bent over the kitchen counter. She flushed brighter than the red playsuit she was wearing and swiftly straightened.

“Dean, what are you doing here?” she asked, was that breathy tone really hers? She cleared her throat to repeat the question as Beau came in with a toolbox, and set it on the counter next to her.

“He’s my muscle,” Beau smirked, nodding towards Dean. Then he leaned down and dropped a now customary kiss on Christy’s cheek. Dean watched the action and when Beau moved back out of the way, he also came over to Christy, crowding her against the counter with his large body.

“Exactly, I’m the muscle,” he rumbled as he bent his head, brushing his lips softly against her cheek. The gentle rasp of his stubble against her skin had her eyelids fluttering closed in bliss. He lingered a moment and then pulled away and she had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from moaning at the loss of him. She met his eyes as he pulled back and she thought she detected a sparkle of amusement in those electric depths. Clearly, he was up to his tricks again, trying to move her attention away from Beau. I’ve got news for ya buddy, we’ve called it quits, so there! Then she remembered Beau was still in the room, she turned to face him, worried he picked up on the tension between her and Dean, but he was busy rummaging around in the toolbox he brought.

“Want me to start with sorting this out?” Dean asked, gesturing to the evil garbage disposal. She could feel his gaze boring into her, but she couldn’t meet his eyes, afraid he would be able to read her expression.

“Um, yeah, sounds good. Beau, you know what needs doing so just go ahead and start wherever you like. I’m going outside to start the garden,” she muttered. She turned around to grab the secateurs from the counter, but something pulled her back against the cupboards. She turned, looked behind her, and saw the belt loop from her playsuit was hooked around a cupboard door handle. She tried to unhook it but couldn’t quite reach without pulling her suit and it wouldn’t budge on its own.

“Here, let me,” Dean said, coming forward.

“No, it’s fine!” she protested rather loudly, wanting to keep as much space between them as possible. She held up her hand to ward him off, but he already moved in front of her and her palm flattened over his chest. His firm pec jumped under her touch.

“Sorry,” she muttered all flustered. She could feel heat rising in her cheeks and he chuckled darkly in her ear as he bent down, the sound spreading warmth throughout her body. He put his hands on either side of her hips and pushed her back against the counter roughly, and pressed his hard body against her. Her breath left her in a huff and she peered up at him through her lashes, her core heating at his aggressive move. He was peering down at her, a strange look on his face, his nostrils flared angrily and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again all traces of amusement were gone and replaced by something she didn’t entirely recognize.

He pulled her to the left and reached behind her, his hand at her back. He leaned into her, bending down to look over her shoulder. The sun-kissed skin of his neck inches from her mouth, tantalizing her. What she wouldn’t give to lean into him and run her tongue over the pulse she could see thumping beneath his skin. His delicious musky pine scent invaded her nose, creating a heady sensation that made her want to rub herself up against him, she just wanted to touch him. Suddenly she was popped free, and all his delicious heat disappeared as he moved over to Beau and turned his back on her.

“Uh, thanks,” she said, but didn’t get a reply. She turned away to grab her gardening equipment and unfortunately, uh, thankfully didn’t get stuck again. She went out the kitchen door and onto the rear porch, scolding herself profusely as she went. Stop acting like a horny teenager! Especially around that man in particular. In fact, with any other man, feel free to act like a nun who’s just been released from a convent, but not with him! She stood on the porch, taking a few deep breaths, trying to get her body under control.

The sun was already high in the sky and the temperature was beginning to rise. Soon it would be too hot to work outside, she took another deep breath then headed over to the biggest patch of weeds. After an hour of bending, leaning, and squatting her knees, thighs, and ass were aching. She pushed herself to keep going while it was still cool enough. It was better to be out here on her own than in the house watching Dean do manly things that made all his glorious muscles flex and ripple. Maybe he would accidentally hit one of the water pipes and burst it, then water would spray out, soaking his shirt and plastering the material against his skin. Then he would have to remove it, obviously, and his muscles would...

“Stop!” she yelled at herself, grateful she was alone in the garden. She really needed to stop wasting her thoughts on a man who only kissed her to try and get his friend to dump her. She got mad all over again thinking about that and used her rage to power through the weeding.

*

Was she trying to kill him? Was there such a thing as being aroused to death? Surely there had to be, especially if all his blood was focused in one area in particular. Was this his penance for branding her so harshly in high school, because karma was being a massive bitch.

If he had to watch her squat, bend, or stretch one more time he was going to…well he was going to shove her into the grass and show her just how worked up she got him. The round, creamy globes of her ass playing havoc with his mind as they peeked out the bottom of the shorts on that ridiculously cute outfit every time she bent over. He panted, sweated, cursed nonstop, and now he was trying to avoid looking everywhere but out the kitchen window. How could weeding be so fucking sexy? Christy Lee, that’s how…

This was a mistake, hell, he knew it as soon as he walked in and saw her bent over the kitchen worktop like she was bent over his – he growled in frustration, shoving the rest of that thought from his mind. It was his own fault, he shouldn’t have kissed her cheek and he certainly shouldn’t have pressed himself up against her when she got caught on the worktop, but he couldn’t help himself. The innocent way she peered up at him through her lashes had him fighting a groan. Why was he playing with fire? Because it burned so good.

He knew he needed to stay away from her, there was no future for them and his relationship with Taylor was far too important to mess up. No matter how edible Christy looked in that adorable outfit. His traitorous eyes found her again, pulse speeding up, she was making it very difficult to look anywhere else, not that she realized.

He watched as she stood up straight and looked around, wiping the back of her arm across her forehead and then turned towards the house. He quickly rearranged himself so she didn’t think tinkering with the garbage disposal was his kink. She came in and dumped her stuff on the side and moved over to him.

“Still broken?” she asked, leaning over to have a look and accidentally brushing her breast across his forearm.

“Yeah, I think I’m nearly done,” he replied gruffly, not sure whether he was talking about the garbage disposal or himself. She nodded.

“Great, thanks for this, I really mean it. You didn’t have to help me out and I really appreciate it.” She smiled up at him, but his eyes were following a bead of sweat that began running down her neck, onto her chest and disappeared into the valley between her lush breasts. His mouth ran dry, he didn’t trust himself to speak and just turned away and started hammering at the garbage disposal again.

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