The following morning he showed up right on time, tool belt slung around his hips and that same easy confidence in his stride. She met him at the door, trying to stay casual, but warmth gathered in her throat under his gaze.

“Morning, Laura.”

“Morning,” she managed, stepping aside to let him in. The use of her first name threw her off a little.

His eyes lingered on her face, on the faint flush she couldn’t quite will away. The corner of his mouth tugged upward.

“You look tired,” he said lightly, almost like small talk, but there was a glint in his eye. “What were you up to last night?”

Colour rushed straight to her cheeks.

“I—excuse me? Nothing.”

He only smiled wider, that infuriating and knowing curve of his mouth. “You must have kept yourself busy.”

Shame curled low in her belly. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t possibly know.

The afternoon wore on as expected with the clink of tools and the quiet rumbling of the washing machine. She tried to keep out of his way but couldn’t resist risking the occasional glance at him. Each time he met her eyes, her stomach flipped.

She brought him a glass of water, hand brushing his as she passed it over. The touch was brief, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his thumb lingered just a fraction longer than necessary with his eyes steady on hers.

“Why don’t we go upstairs,” he said casually, nodding toward the ceiling after setting glass down. “Show me what else needs fixing.”

She blinked, startled, then realised he meant the spare room windows. Of course.

When they reached the spare room, she began babbling about peeling paint and soft patches in the wood, gesturing toward the window frame.

He didn’t respond, but his stare was deafening.

She turned toward the glass, unable to hold eye contact as words spilled out just to fill the silence until, finally, they ran out.

She took a step back and collided with a hard wall of muscle.

His body was hot and unyielding. She gasped, the sound sharp in the silence.

“Shh, relax.” His voice was quiet and steady. “Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?”

Her pulse skittered.

His mouth brushed close to her ear, his breath warm on her skin.

"Jake, I'm too old for this.”

"That's a cute excuse." He chuckled. "So you weren't thinking of me when you were moaning last night?"

Air snagged in her throat. For a second she could only stare out the window.

“What are you talking about?” The words barely made it out.

He gave a slow, knowing smile. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His fingers lightly traced the line of her spine. Every nerve of hers stood on end.

“Tell me you weren’t thinking about me,” he said quietly.

She couldn’t respond.

“Say it. I’ll fix that window and pretend nothing happened.”

Her pulse thundered in her ears. She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

He waited patiently.

Something inside her snapped. “Screw it,” she whispered, and turned.

Their mouths met, fierce and desperate, all the words she hadn’t said pouring out between them.

He caught the back of her neck, deepening the kiss with the same raw need.

Her skin prickled with heat, every layer between them suddenly unbearable. She pulled her top over head between breathless kisses and unbuttoned her jeans, wriggling out of them with her panties.

He broke away just enough to breathe. Against her lips, he whispered, “Now, show me what you were doing last night.”

"Wha—What do you mean?" She stuttered.

Rather than answer, he stepped away and dragged a chair from her vanity. He slipped out of his tool belt, removed his top and unbuttoned his pants then settled into the small chair, leaning back with infuriating ease. His eyes locked on hers with hungry intentions.

“No need to rush,” he murmured with a grin. “I’ll just sit right here and admire the view while you get comfortable.”

She couldn’t believe this was happening. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience as she watched herself move toward the bed, settling into a half-comfortable position while trying to steady the thunder of her heartbeat.

Then, almost without deciding to, she ran her hands over her breasts and down her stomach. She touched herself tentatively at first, her body fighting her own embarrassment. But every time she faltered, his voice caught her and pulled her deeper.

“That’s it,” he said quietly. “Show me how you like it.”

She obeyed. Her fingers moved, slow at first, just testing, then faster as his words guided her. The shame peeled away in thin strips leaving behind nothing but desire.

“Fuck Laura, keep going,” he murmured approvingly.

She pressed harder, breath hitching as a low hum pooled inside her. When she finally managed a small, involuntary sound, he gave a soft, satisfied laugh.

“You can do better than that,” he coaxed from the chair. “Let me hear you.”

Her thighs squeezed together.

“Spread your legs, Laura. I want to see all of you.”

Her mouth went dry, but she did as he instructed. She parted her legs and dipped her fingers inside her pussy, then lifted and circled up to her clit.

“Don’t stop until I tell you,” he added with a sharp voice, steadying her when she wanted to look away.

Her fingers circled faster, shame mixing with a dizzying heat.

He leaned forward, eyes locked on hers. “God, look at you.”

The words broke something in her. Her hips lifted, her moans spilling into the air, no longer containable. She was so close, his words swirling around her head and the intensity of his gaze winding every muscle in her tight.

“Come for me.”

That was enough to tip her over the edge. She lost herself in the waves of orgasm, grinding her pussy against her hand as she rode out her pleasure.

She lay back against the pillows, his attention pinned her in place, every nerve of hers attuned to him. His eyes roamed over her slowly, possessively, like he was memorising every inch. Then, with a low breath, he rose from the chair.

Each step toward the bed was deliberate. He braced one knee on the mattress, leaning over her, his shadow swallowing her whole.

“That was your warm up. Now it’s my turn.”

“Roll onto your front, beautiful.”

She shuffled beneath him, his arms braced on either side of her, caging and protecting her all at once.

He kissed his way down her spine, lips grazing over goosebumps until he reached the swell of her ass. She instinctively pushed back against him.

He grinned into her skin. “That’s my girl.”

A muffled moan escaped her lips as she floated in post-orgasm bliss.

He shifted back onto his knees. “I can’t get enough of you. Push your ass up and spread your legs for me.”

She obeyed. He adjusted his waistband and rubbed himself for the friction he so desperately craved.

One hand pressed to the small of her back, silently urging her to arch. She did, obligingly, and the view that opened to him made his chest tighten.

“So fucking perfect.”

His palms stroked over the roundness of her ass before settling at her thighs. He spread her wider and lowered his head, tongue sliding between her folds. She twitched at the first intrusion. With a growl of approval, he found her clit, licking and teasing until she was bucking against his face.

He pulled back just enough to chuckle. “Not yet. I’m not finished.”

He swiped his tongue over her pussy once more, then higher, circling her tight rosebud.

Lost to sensation, she groaned.

His tongue licked and prodded until he replaced it with his thumb. He circled, applied gentle pressure, and felt the muscle give. Sliding inside, he drew a sharp gasp from her lips.

“Good girl. You can take it.”

With his other hand, he rubbed her clit, slowly and steadily, while his thumb pressed deeper.

She adjusted to the sensation, rocking her hips in rhythm. The bed muffled her moans as another orgasm coiled tight inside her.

“I want to be inside you the next time you come for me, Laura.”

Taking his hand off her pussy, he freed his cock, stroking gently and rubbing pre-cum over her swollen lips; coating her where she was already drenched.

“You’re going to take every inch of me, beautiful.”

With that he pushed inside her, slow and deliberate, his cock stretching her in the best way.

He gripped her hip hard, anchoring her to him, his other hand spreading her open as he drove into her, each thrust dragging a broken cry from her throat.

“You’re. Fucking. Incredible.”

Her responses were broken fragments, her body arching to meet him:

“I—can’t—oh God!” she cried. “Please—don’t stop!”

“I couldn’t if I tried,”

He strained against his own building orgasm.

“Come again, baby, make a mess on my cock.”

The words blurred into pleasure until she shattered around him, the sound torn from her throat before she could stop it.

“That’s my girl.”

He remained inside her, throbbing hard still yet to meet his release. Removing his thumb, he trailed a hand up and down her spine and she shivered at his touch.

“We’re not done yet, Laura. On your back. I want more of you.”

She slid out from under him, already aching at the loss, and dropped back onto the mattress, chest heaving. Her legs parted instinctively, urging him closer, needing him back inside before she died from the emptiness alone.

He pressed two fingers into her mouth first, making her suck them until her lips were wet, then dragged them down over her throat, her nipples, her stomach, leaving damp trails until he found her clit. Circling it firmly, he slid back inside her in one long thrust.

“Knees up. Higher. That’s it, hold them there.”

He drove deeper, commanding the movement.

“Every inch, Laura. Take it.”

He set a punishing rhythm, hips slamming into hers, the wet sounds of their bodies filling the room. Each thrust forced a cry from her lips, his grip bruising at her thighs as he held her open. He rolled his pelvis against her clit with every stroke. Her head tipped back, the pressure unbearable, the pleasure too much to contain.

“Come with me.”

His words and his body guided her over the edge once again, pulling her into her release with his own. He held her down as they came apart, hips grinding until there was nothing left but the throb of him still pulsing inside her.

The room was quiet except for her ragged breathing. She lay boneless against the pillows, her body trembled and her hair stuck in damp wisps against her cheeks.

He stayed close, steadying her with one hand on her thigh, the other brushing back her hair. His voice was softer now, the edge gone, but still carrying that same authority.

“You did so good for me.”

She turned her face back towards him, words slipping out before she could stop them:

“No one’s made me feel like this before.”

He kissed her temple, grounding her back to the moment and pulled back with a smirk.

“You have no idea what you’ve started.”

He stood and pulled his tossed t-shirt over his head. He adjusted his pants and grabbed his tool belt, then paused at the door. She was sprawled across the bed, flushed and wrecked, her body still humming from what he’d done to her.

He glanced back with an infuriating smile tugging at his mouth. “You know,” he said slowly, “you weren’t exactly quiet just now.”

Her chest tightened.

He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “If I hear you again tonight…” He let the pause stretch. “Don’t expect me to stay away.”

She groaned as he turned and left, the echo of his boots fading down the stairs. With her heart hammering she was certain now that he had meant every word. There was no going back.