“I gotta go, Dad. I’ll tell ya later.” I give him a lopsided smile, then slam my truck shut.
His glower as he watches me leave tells me I better not wait too long.
There’s just a part of me that worries he’s gonna be disappointed. Not that I want to be offsite, but that I’m missing something here and that’s why I want to get away.
Yet I am.
Too often I feel like I’m just playing the role of an extra on a movie set. Filling in gaps here, doing busy work there.
I just want to find a place where I’m vital.
Important.
“Sawyer! Perfect timing. Come be my hero!” Val balances on a stepladder, precariously balancing on her tiptoe as she tries to change a blown lightbulb above the bar.
Moving swiftly through the empty room, I grab the wobbly rung next to her leg. “Yea, I can get that.”
Her dark maroon hair sweeps the inside of my arm as she climbs down, then I get a perfect view of her full breasts bouncing under the tight fabric of her tank top.
Why does she always have to wear them so snug?
To torture me. That’s the only answer.
“Thank you! Here’s the new one.” She brandishes it with a wide smile.
It’s only when I get to the top and reach to take out the old one do I get a solid whiff of myself.
Oh damn. I need to clean up.
My fingers slip when I pull out the burnt bulb, making me juggle it before I catch it. Barely.
“You don’t have to hurry on my account. Let me enjoy the view.” Val leans against the bar with a throaty laugh and looks up at me.
Shit. Fire races up my neck to burn across my cheeks and my dick twitches. But I manage to get the replacement in without any more close calls.
When I climb down, I fold up the ladder quickly and hold it between us.
“Sawyer—” Her fingers touch my arm, sending a rush of adrenaline through me that makes my heart pound in my ears. “—I hope you know I’m just playing around? You’re almost like a little brother to me, but cuter.” Teasing mischief turns up the corner of her full red lips and glitters in her emerald eyes.
How do I tell her I definitelydon’tthink of her as a sister?
I’ve never jacked off over thoughts of Sophia.
Gross.
Bile rises in my throat.
“I know, I don’t mind.” It’s the most pathetic comment I could ever possibly come up with.
But anything else feels dangerous to say.
“I gotta go wash up.” The ladder rungs rub painfully across my stiff crotch as I walk away.
After I stash it behind the door of the office, I cut through the hall to the bathroom so I don’t accidentally pass her with my zipper bulging.
In the men’s room, I rip off my shirt and rub the shit out of my pits, then use the hand soap to lather up my skanky tee.
Better hit those underarms one more time.
