“You have no idea how much I want to be inside you,” he muttered the words quietly, feeling her cling onto his shoulders. “No idea how much I want my cock to be buried deep right now, with your legs wrapped round me. I can imagine how tight you’d squeeze it when you came on me.”
Her head tipped back, wet hair hanging down. Lainey moaned loudly, coming on his hand and soaking his fingers. He wanted to pick her up and fuck her against the tiles, empty himself into her this time, and mark her from the inside.
But he had no condom, and they hadn’t had a conversation about contraception and why the fuck was he thinking like this?
He removed his fingers from her warmth, bringing them up to his mouth and tasting her, the salty sweetness making him wish it wasn’t the middle of the working day and he had the rest of the night to make her his properly.
Her expression wasn’t one of a woman who had been sated twice. There was no regret there, or doubt, just something that looked like business.
“You still look green.” She poked at his chest and not in a way that suggested she was up for bunking off any work.
“That’s the dye and not me feeling nauseous at what we just did.” And what his cock still wanted to do. Bringing her to her second orgasm had lowered his recovery time.
He got a smile from her, but he didn’t think it was willingly given. Was she going to shoot out of here and pretend it hadn’t happened? Was a bigger wall now going to be erected, one that even the alpacas couldn’t break through?
“We’re good?” It was lame, he knew. He pushed his hand through his hair, completely fazed. He’d slept with his fair share of women and he’d never had any issue in anencounterjust being that.
This wasn’t anencounter. This was a blow job from his neighbour who he’d told himself he seriously disliked.
“We’re good. Let’s never mention this.”
He gave one single nod and accepted the towel she handed out for him.
He wasn’t sure he was good. And he wasn’t sure he seriously disliked her either.
Chapter Nine
Lainey didn’t think about the two orgasms Jake had gifted her with. She pushed them out of her mind and focused on anything else, such as the upcoming auction and the chatter from Josh about the battle of the bands Jake was organising – only she was pretending it wasn’t Jake who had anything to do with it.
Imogen had arrived for a short break, under the pretence of ‘needing to get away from the city’. This basically meant she’d come to spy on behalf of the rest of her siblings and cousins, and check that Lainey was doing okay, given that she’d not been in touch tons in the last few weeks.
“How’s the Sun God next door?” Imogen sat at the newly installed breakfast bar with her mimosa, reading something on her Kindle. “I haven’t had chance to perv on him yet.”
Lainey bit into her bagel. It was almost lunch time. She’d been up for nearly six hours, had seen two clients, had a meeting with Holly about shifts for the next couple of weeks and interviews they were holding to expand their workforce, and mucked out a stable, while Imogen took a bath in the newly renovated bathroom and put on a facemask.
“Maybe if you kept something other than teenage time, you’d catch him. He’s up early.” Very early. Earlier, in fact, than she was and she was sure it was to avoid her.
They were avoiding each other.
This was the very state that she should’ve wanted. Right from the start he’d grated on her, making jibes, wanting to piss over her territory, baiting her in front of the people who were becoming friends. It had been a mistake to drop the robe when she’d found him in the bathroom, but it proved that she wasn’t as hideous as the mess of an ex had pointed out. And that orgasms still existed.
And that Jake Maynard was very, very talented at giving them.
“Why don’t you invite him over?” Imogen checked her nails. “I’d like to get to know your neighbour better.”
This was the third time Immy had suggested she spend more time with Jake. Lainey wasn’t convinced that her sister was interested; Jake Maynard was not her usual type, which was suited and powerful, meaning more of a challenge for Imogen to wrap them round her little finger before she flicked them into a gutter. Lainey fully suspected that Imogen had picked up on something; it could have been the way a bird had flown across the sky, or how Lainey had pronounced Jake’s name – who knew?
But her sister was fishing.
“I’m not inviting him over. He’s my neighbour. Not my friend.”
“He could be both.” Immy stood up and stretched. “I’m going to head into town and pick up something tasty for dinner. There’s a band on at that bar tonight too – I think we should go. We’re worried you’re becoming a workaholic and that you’ll never find a man up here.”
“We’re not living in the eighteenth century where I need to be married off, you know.” Lainey filled a glass with water and chugged it back.
“Well, you could at least find yourself a friend with benefits. Someone to relax you.” Imogen found her handbag that she’d left on the sofa the night before. “Do you want me to pick anything up? I’d ask if you wanted to come with me, but I suspect you’ll tell me you’re ‘working’.”
“I’m going out for a ride.” It was the treat Lainey had promised herself two days ago. When she’d gotten these assessments out of the way, and written up the reports, she was going to take Rex, her newest stallion, out for a good couple of hours through the fields and along a track through the nearby pine forests.
