Bad Boy Rebound(11)

I glanced at the closed door as my fingers crept over the soft skin of my belly and down to the elastic waistband of my panties. I peeked at the door again, almost expecting it to fling open at any moment and for Brax to walk in.

My other hand cupped my breast through the cotton t-shirt, my fingers rubbing over a sensitive nipple. I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes, envisioning Brax like he’d been in the dream, naked before me, his long thick cock straining against his belly.

Thighs falling open, I brushed my fingers over my clit, circling it once, twice, again and again. My breathing increased, growing more ragged with each stroke. I pinched my nipple, the pleasure/pain intensifying the ache between my thighs. Imagining Brax sliding inside me, I lifted my hips, my fingers pressing harder, faster. I released a throaty moan as my body rocked, tightening, pulsing with a climax.

Once the orgasm ebbed, I dropped my hands back to my sides and stared at the ceiling. Brax Mitchell would be in my house everyday for the next forty-five days.

It would either be the fastest or slowest forty-five days of my life.

Keeping my thoughts focused on my future and as far away from the naughty dream as possible, I took a shower and threw on a pair of snug shorts and a halter tank top. Summers in Washington have always been amazing, a nice contrast to the sweltering days in Arizona.

A good thing the summers were mild, especially since I didn’t have air-conditioning. My dad had picked up two fans from the hardware store last night, showing me the different settings and once again acting like I was still a teenager.

Secretly, I kind of enjoyed the fawning over. I could tell he was excited to have me home.

Making my way to the kitchen, I put the coffee on and leaned against the counter, staring out the kitchen window where my elderly neighbor chatted with the mailman.

The majority of my neighbors were older than me and had been living in the same homes for decades.

And Brax Mitchell lived nearby.

Stop thinking about him! I ran my hand down my face as flashes of the naughty dream came back to me.

It was going to be a very long day.



Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I set the carafe back on the unit to continue brewing and turned around. I had to stifle the scream that rose to my throat.

Willing my pounding heart to slow down, I opened the door for Brax, who was standing outside.

“Sorry,” he said, laughing softly under his breath. “I rang the doorbell a couple of times but there was no answer, so I thought I’d go ahead and unload some items. If it’s okay, I’d like to keep them by the shed. That way, it won’t be so appealing to thieves.”

My face felt flushed. If he only knew about the dream or the fact that I’d masturbated while thinking about his six-foot-two inches of hotness.

“Sorry, I must have been drying my hair.”

“Looks nice,” he said, and I smiled, pleased by the simple compliment.

I tightened my grip on the mug and tried to ignore how turned on I was. It was a difficult thing to do when Brax was wearing black cargo shorts and a black tank top that clung to his impressive pecs and rock-hard abdomen, where a six-pack was defined against the tight fabric.

“Just a heads up, a Dumpster is going to be delivered by noon.” Brax nodded toward the front. “I’ve requested for it to be set in the driveway, furthest away from the door.”

“That’s fine.” I tried my best to focus on the task at hand. “What’s on the schedule today?”

“Demo. I thought you’d like it. I even brought an extra sledgehammer.”

“Sweet,” I said, savoring the thought of being able to take out my aggression on the house.

“We’ll move the fridge out onto the back patio, so if you could get busy unloading the items, we’ll do that.”

“That’s easy,” I said, opening the door and removing the gallon of milk and a bottle of ketchup and mustard. “I’ve been eating at my folks since I arrived.” I stopped short, opened the freezer, and grabbed the box of corndogs. “Okay, that’s it.”

He smirked, but refrained from commenting about my lack of food. “What about paint samples? Did you get a chance to drop by the hardware store yesterday afternoon?”

Paint had been the one item he hadn’t held my hand through, and I had stood in front of the paint section at the hardware store for thirty minutes, picking out every shade of beige under the sun. I tried to keep the neutral color palate in mind and focused on three shades.

“Try it on the wall, then if you’re satisfied, commit to the gallon, or perhaps even a five gallon can if you’re wanting to use the same color in any of the other rooms.”

He’s too young for you, Amanda, my conscience all but screamed as visions of my dream came back to me—particularly where he’d stroked his long, thick cock with those long-fingered, callused hands. Heat raced up my neck, making my cheeks hot.