CHAPTER TWO
KELLAN
I pull another piece of greasy pizza from the half-empty box resting on my desk, the sound of my favorite streamer fills the room. My attention flicks to the stack of books sitting on the corner of my desk.
My gaze lands on the monster romance sitting right on top. I chuckle, reaching for it. “So, this is what you were reading…” I murmur under my breath.
I can still see her, the cutie from Nook & Fable with the dark hair and big green eyes. She was sitting at the counter, pretending she wasn’t blushing as she tried to hide the very same book under a pile of discarded ones.
The image of her replays in my mind like a scene I can’t forget. Her long black hair falling forward to frame her round, freckled face, her full red lips pressing together as she turned the page, and the way her hands gripped the paperback a little too tightly.
I lean back in my chair, smiling to myself. God, she was beautiful. That knit sweater hugged her in all the right places, and the way she leaned forward on the counter… those big tits were impossible not to notice.
The book sits heavy in my hand, and I flip it open, skimming the page, imagining what it must have been like for her to read this and try to keep a straight face. I run my thumb over the edge of the page. I can't help but wonder what she’s doing right now.
Is she at home, in a chair with a blanket reading this exact book? Is she flipping through the same filthy pages, cheeks flushed, biting that plump bottom lip? I picture her shifting in her seat, nipples hard, her hand in her panties playing with herself.
Now my cock is engorged and rock hard, it presses against my jeans with a painful pressure. I let out a slow breath and unzip my pants, freeing the thick of me. The image of her lingers—panting as she rubs her wet pussy to the filthy words on the pages.
I grip my cock at the base and slowly start to move my hand up and down the length of it. I move faster and harder as images of her on her knees flash behind my eyelids. She’s smiling, patiently waiting to take my load. “That’s it, good girl.” I grit as I fist harder and faster. Instead of shoving my leaking cock in her perfect little mouth, I release my hot load into the nearest towel.
I slump back in my chair, breathing hard, waiting for my heart to slow. The room issuddenly too warm, my skin damp, for a moment all I can do is sit here. I stare at the glow of the monitor while the streamer’s voice drones on in the background.
Eventually, I push myself up. I clear the half empty pizza box, slide it into the fridge, and wipe down the desk.
The shower hisses to life, steam curling against the bathroom mirror. I strip down and step under the spray. I tilt my head back as the hot water pounds across my shoulders. Even with the water rushing over me, I can't stop thinking about her. If only I at least knew her name.
I step out of the shower, steam rolling out into the hallway as I towel off. A trail of goosebumps rise as I drag the cloth across my shoulders and chest.
The floorboards creak under my weight as I head down the hall. This old house has a voice of its own—every step groaning, every wall sighing when the night settles in.
I pull on a pair of worn sweatpants, toss the towel over the door and flick off the lights. The mattress springs groan as I sink onto it.
I stretch out, hands resting behind my head, staring at the ceiling in the dim glow from the streetlights. My thoughts drift, inevitably back to her.
I have to see her again.
I let out a long breath and let her be the last image in my mind as sleep tugs me under.
The alarm goes off before the sun’s even thought of rising, its shrill buzz ringing through my ears. I swipe my phone screen dismissing the alarm and swing my legs out of the bed.
Jeans, white T-shirt, and the same old hat I always wear—it doesn’t take much thought to get dressed. My boots thud against the worn wood as I head down the hall, keys jingling in my hand.
When I step outside, the air is chilly with dew, the sky just starting to pale at the edges. The gate drags when I push it open, the hinges groaning like they’re begging for me to end them. The whole thing’s barely hanging on, one more repair waiting on the long list that came with this old place.
I inherited the house from my grandparents, and some days it’s a blessing. Other days… it is a challenge. The porch sags, the paints peeling, and that damn gate.
But it’s mine. And I can hear my grandfather’s voice in the creak of the wood, my grandmother’s laughter in the kitchen. So, I deal with it. One fix at a time. I head to the truck, another day waiting.
The truck rumbles to life, shaking me awake better than any alarm could. The cab smells of oil and coffee, and I crank the heat as the morning chill bites at me. Headlights cut through the gray light of dawn as I pull onto the main road.
I pull into the lot at the utility yard, parking beside the rest of the trucks that are just as beaten as mine.
We check the schedules, load up the tools, and before long I’m hauling gear, climbing poles, fixing lines that hum under my fingers. It’s physical, demanding, and exhausting—but it’s honest, and I like it that way.
Even as sweat drips down my back and my arms ache from lifting transformers and coil spools, my mind can’t help wandering. That cute little lady at the bookstore.
I shake my head. No distractions on the clock. But the memory of her lingers under my hat, no matter how high I climb.
