Page 11 of Breaking the Rules of Love

My cock erupts in my hand. I try to reach for something to catch my release, but it’s too late.

A spray, much greater than what I had anticipated, fountains from my tip and splashes all over the windowpane in front of me.

“Oh, fuck!” I grunt as I brace myself against the wall. I should do something, but it’s really too late, and I’m not about to fuck up my orgasm, so I just keep my eyes locked on Sadie’s glorious pussy and ass as I climax.

I’ll worry about the cleanup later.

Normally after I’m done, I’mdoneand ready to just go do something else. But I look down and see I’m still hard. I could watch Sadie all night, but I can see she’s putting her bedtime clothes on and getting ready for bed. And as she goes over to the wall and thumbs the light switch, causing her room to go dark and obscuring my view of her beauty, I can think only one thing.

I’m a bad man.

8

Sadie

Even though Idon’t know what an accountant does, I’m pretty sure it’s better than being a waitress. At least at Cherry’s Diner, the restaurant where I work.

Julia came up with the term “Hell Nights” to describe the nights where everything that can go wrong does. Last night was one of those nights.

The card scanner at the front went down, so we had to use the handheld one that’s super finnicky and irritates customers. There were problems in the kitchen that got the staff back there all pissy at me even though I had nothing to do with it. Someone dropped a brand-new box full of cups that went everywhere and is going to cost our owner, Scotty, whatever it costs to order a new box. It’s not like that’s a lot of money, but Scotty is a bit of a cheapskate when it comes to mistakes, so someone’s going to catch an earful.

And then on top of that, we had a dine and dash group of kids who came in, ordered milkshakes and fries, and then when I went in the back to grab someone else’s order, just ran off. They were all wearing strange masks too for what they called an “early Halloween” party they were supposedly attending, so the cops said there’s little chance of catching them.

My tips were shit, and I spilled coffee and barbeque sauce on myself and went home smelling awful. If it weren’t for the fact that I absolutelyneedthis job or I’m going to lose the house, I would have quit Cherry’s a long time ago.

But that’s what happens when your ex-husband gambles away your entire life savings and then runs away to Vegas with your best friend and leaves you with nothing but a mortgage.

I could sell the house, I guess, but this was my dream house, and why should that son of a bitch and his gambling habit ruin my dream?

I go downstairs and make my morning peanut butter and banana smoothie and am just about to go sit on the couch when I hear what sounds like a weedwhacker from out on the front lawn. I go to the kitchen window and look out and see Jake there, in shorts and a tank-top, weedwhacking my grass.

“What the hell…?”

He looks incredible. He’s really taking this male-model thing to a whole new level. He must have been at this for a while because he’s covered in sweat, which has the same effect on his muscles as oil does on bodybuilders when they go up on stage.

I already knew that he had great arms, but the tank-top he’s wearing shows off his impeccable chest as well. He is really well built. I wonder if he got this way from working out in the gym or from serving in the military—or maybe a combination of both.

Also, I wonder what he thinks he’s doing weedwhacking my lawn right now.

With my banana smoothie in hand, I step out the front door and call out to him.

“Jake! Hey, Jake!” But it’s no use. The sound of that little motor he’s wielding is far too loud for him to hear me. And he’s also got a pair of earmuffs on. So instead, I skip around the grass to get in front of him and wave my free arm like a maniac fan at a soccer game. “Jake! Hello!?”

After a few seconds, this finally gets his attention. He smiles and shuts off the little landscaping device.

“Good morning,” he says casually, like nothing is going on.

“Good morning?” I repeat. “That’s all you have to say?”

Jake shrugs. “Seems like a normal thing to say in the morning, don’t you think?”

I try not to smile. He’s playing with me. He knows exactly what I’m getting at, but he’s not going there with me.

He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and takes a breath, causing his chest to further grow in size. It’s enormous, taut with muscle and ready to burst out of his sweat-soaked tank-top.

“And this?” I ask, waving at the weedwhacking he’s done so far. “This isnormal?To just landscape someone’s lawn without asking them?”

“Well, it needed doing,” Jake replies. “And you don’t have a husband. So I figured I’d do it for you. I didn’t think you’d be the type of gal who’d mind.”

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