Peyton sat there, my finger on his forehead. “What?”
“Just wait,” I told him, then headed into the bedroom.
I could try to give him advice all night, but he hadn’t come to me for a counselling session. Whatever else our connection might be, first and always, it was carnal. So instead of explaining to him how to have fun in bed, all I needed to do was show him that he already knew.
After fucking a couple thousand people, I’d finally found someone I was ready to slow down and enjoy.
* * *
PEYTON
Jet stepped out of his bedroom, taking a broad step into the living room. He’d changed clothes, stripped off his shirt so that he was bare-chested, tied a toolbelt around his waist, and stuck his feet in a pair of brown boots. He stood there, a cocky grin on his face as he posed for a second, flexing his ropey muscles. “I hear there’s a problem with your sink?”
I blurted out a laugh and covered my mouth.
“Hey,” he grunted, frowning at me, then struck the pose again, leaning forward and tightening his biceps as he slipped back into character. Veins popped, and his muscles looked obscenely hard. “Someone call for a plumber?”
I tried to force myself into character. Jet looked fucking hot, and it was strangely touching that he’d just gone for this, dressing up and making himself vulnerable, like I often felt with my lack of experience.
But also he just looked so damn goofy.
I blurted out another laugh. “Plumbers don’t typically have muscles like that, Jet.”
“I’m sure there’ssomeplumber who does. This plumber.” He dropped his voice lower. “The one Mr. Young called for?”
I tore my eyes away from his, knowing I’d just laugh more if we looked at each other. “This way. The sink is here in the kitchen,” I said, leading him and feeling entirely silly.
When I got to Jet’s sink and turned, he’d flicked open the top of his jeans, revealing the black waistband of his boxer briefs. The toolbelt and the few tools looked new, which made sense. He wouldn’t have had one when he was travelling constantly. But the boots were worn and scuffed.
“Are you all alone tonight, Mr. Young?”
I dragged my eyes up and down his powerful body. My desire for Jet spiked. I could already taste him and feel his skin against mine.
“Yes,” I said, then stepped close, trying to sell myself the fantasy. “It’s just me here.”
Jet brushed past, his body pushing me aside. “Let me take a look for you,” he said, then dropped into a squat, giving me a full view of the muscles that crossed his back. “Seems like you’ve got a clog.”
I couldn’t help it, I busted out laughing again. “I’m sorry,” I said, then grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “I just… I can’t. It just feels like too much for me.”
Jet grinned, then slammed his lips against mine for a quick, deep kiss. “Fucker,” he teased. “Laughing at my plumbing game.”
“It’s just that I could fix anything wrong with that sink myself. My dad owned a hardware store, remember? I wouldn’t ever call a plumber.”
Jet rolled his eyes. “It’s supposed to be a fantasy.”
“A fantasy where I’ve forgotten how to fix a simple clog? How is that sexy?”
He furrowed his brow at me, then laughed again. “You’re impossible.” He unhooked the tool belt, removed it, and slid it around my waist, taking me in a hug.
“Hey,” I laughed, wiggling against him. “What gives?”
Jet stepped back, leaving the heavy belt tugging down at my waist. “Oh, Mr. Plumber. You finally made it.”
I adjusted the belt. “Mr. Plumber? And I’m late?”
Jet laughed and slammed his lips against mine again. “Okay, so role reversal didn’t help any.”
We stayed close, both pressing our bodies tight, running our hands down each other. It sent sparks all through me, igniting something powerful enough to push the awkwardness from the role play away.
