Look Closer: No Safe Words Here 1-4 out of 5. Boxed Set (14 page)

And then it hit me that Jake was shirtless.  His upper body naked, all of him tan and hard, his muscles not gym refined, but work hardened.  His arms bulged, and I imagined running my hands over that tan flesh, and those long, hard muscles. 

He came to the bottom of the ladder and turned to look at me.  He was covered in swear, his hands blackened with tar, his skin kissed with sunlight…of, and he looked so damned happy to see me.  That smile was there, and it had his eyes sparkling in the late morning sunlight.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.  I gulped, and then cleared my throat.    “How’s the roof look?” I said when I really wanted to reach over and run my hands down his sweaty, tanned flesh.

He pulled his t-shirt from where he’d tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans—funny how I hadn’t even noticed that—and I felt a wave of dread that he was about to put the shirt on when instead he used it to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Well, there’s more damage up there than I’d anticipated.  It might take until tomorrow to get them all settled…and I’m still trying to find the leak.”

The leak?  Oh, yes, the leak.  That had been the reason I’d come outside.

It suddenly occurred to me that I could have just walked out here in my robe and slippers.  Why had I felt compelled to shower and change?

For him?

I scrunched my eyes closed and tried not to see the blatant truth in that answer.  I hated when I subconscious got all observant.

I shook it off and pushed on.  “You had said you wanted to take a look in my attic?”

He smiled a little more and swiped again at the sweat on his brow, this time with the back of his forearm.  He had smudges of what I imagined was tar on his forearm, and some black rubbed off on his forehead. 

My god it looked good on him…

I had never, ever found anything thing that was dirty in the least bit attractive.  I’d shuddered away from my mechanic’s greasy hands for years.  And I remembered that my own father had worked as a welder, and his hands always were blackened, and reeked of oil and other chemicals.

I pushed that memory away from me.  My father had left my mother and I when I was five.  He had disappeared and never returned.  He’d never even sent us a post card.  My mother had worked for years, raising me all alone, until she’d met a kind, gentle man that she forced prove his love and loyalty to her a million ways to Sunday before she agreed—after five years of courting her—finally to marry him.

They’d been happy ever since.

But I guess that had been where my aversion to dirt and grease—and especially men with dirt and grease on them—came from.

I’d gone to therapy for five years after Emily died, and I never found anything out through it.  And now, just looking at the grease stains on Jake’s yummy flesh…

Oh god, I just thought “yummy flesh!”

And now I was having a freaking psychological breakthrough?

That was just fucking great…

It also explained why I chose a man like Tom for my husband.  I don’t think he’d really gotten dirty in the entire twenty-two years I’d known him.

And look what I’d gotten for being so damn picky…

Jake waved his hand in front of my face.  “You in there somewhere?”

I blinked a few times and plastered a smile on my face…and then I shrugged that fake smile off and gave Jake a real smile.  He deserved a real smile.  His smiles were always real, and I did feel happier with him around.  Hell, I felt happy just looking at him.

All that smooth, tanned skin…and he had a fine dusting of brown hair on his chest.

I’d been so used to Tom’s smooth chest that I’d forgotten some men…most men, had chest hair.

“So you were going to let me look up in your attic?” Jake said, scrubbing the back of his neck with his filthy hand.  He was suddenly self conscious looking, and I think he was blushing.

Well, you’re ogling him like he’s a side of beef and you’re a starving wolf!

I smiled at that thought.  I was starving…and I didn’t suddenly feel very much like a wolf.

I folded my arms under my breasts and tilted my head toward the door.  “Follow me.”

*****

Jake was up in the attic for about fifteen minutes.  He’d pulled his t-shirt on when he entered the house, but I still stared at his denim clad bottom as he climbed up the retractable ladder that lead up to the attic.

It was more a crawl space than an attic, so I’d only been up there once in twenty years, and had deemed it too small for storage.

I went to my bedroom—Tom had made up the bed with fresh linens last night, and had remade it again this morning. 

I looked into the mirror of my vanity and my vanity went berserk: my hair looked like it was slicked back like a man’s, and my face looked blotchy—and my freckles were alive and kicking.

I pulled my still damp hair out of its ponytail and set to drying it with a roller brush and a hairdryer.  Then I swept some mineral makeup on, some eye liner and mascara, and then some pale lipstick.

By the time I heard Jake descending the attic ladder, I’d decided I didn’t look too bad.

“Find anything?” I asked.  I felt a shudder and then an actuall, honest to god hot flash when I saw how filthy he’d gotten up in the attic.

He seemed unfazed by getting filthy, and wiped some of the newly earned dust off on his now grubby jeans.

I couldn’t prize my eyes off him.  My mind was a swirl of wants and needs…and I couldn’t focus clearly on any single one.

“I was just about to make some brunch.” I licked my lips and smiled.  “Why don’t you…wash your hands and I’ll head down to the kitchen and get started.”

He nodded and his eyes crinkled sexily as he smiled.  “I am pretty hungry, at that,” he said.  “And that lemonade of yours yesterday was the best I ever tasted.”

“Why thank you.” I turned and gestured with my hand to the bathroom door.  “Don’t worry about the hand towels.  I have a black-belt in laundry.”

Jake chuckled and I surreptitiously watched him as he walked to the bathroom door and walked in.   

He closed the door and I heard the water come on.  I moved to the stairs…but stopped in my tracks on the first step.  I couldn’t get the image of him trying to wash the oil and tar and dust and dirt off his hands…

I just suddenly found myself pushing through the bathroom door and walking right up to him, staring at his barely soapy hands as he futilely scrubbed at them.  Regular old soap would do little to get the oil and grease off.

“Uhm…ma’am, I mean Lila…what are you doing?”

He’d stopped scrubbing and was looking at me in my reflection cast by the bathroom mirror.

I reached down and pulled open the cupboard under the sink and grabbed a bottle of Dawn. 

“It’s a degreaser,” I explained as I poured a copious amount of the goop into my hand.  I put my hands under the water for a second, and then started lathering them.  Then I reached over and took his big, strong, rough hands into mine and started washing them with gentle, caressing strokes.

My breathing had picked up, as had Jake’s.  I watched the lather spread over his hands, and then turn nearly black as it started working on the grease.  A few moments later I pulled his hands under the spray of water and rinsed.  They weren’t spotless, but they were quite a bit cleaner.

I looked up into his --- eyes and found he was staring hungrily at me.  We were close enough that he could have leaned over and kissed me.

I stood up straight and took a step away.

Jake did the same, looking confused and a little angry.

But then he looked back into my eyes and laughed when I said, “I think we should get you into the shower if we really want to get you clean…please remove your clothes.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Natalie

I’d sent the conniving little bastard half a dozen emails and texts, and his phone just rang and rang, not even switching to voicemail.  He was deliberately not answering me!

Michael Long had gone home about an hour after I’d started calling the computer hacking little shit-weasel.  I’d tasked him with pulling down all his secret copies of my brother and the mayor’s home porn flick.

Marcus was wired for sound, jibber-jabbering about how his life was over, that if it got out about him and “Tom” that the good mayor’s career would be finished.

I agreed.  But I thought the cradle-robbing cretin should lose his livelihood, and especially his public office.  But this was the Twenty-first century.  Bad press was as good as good press…sometimes even better.  Who knew if the realization that the forty year old mayor sucked dick and liked to fuck men half his age would even force him to resign.  He might pick up the GLBT vote in the aftermath. 

Stranger things had happened.

I’d finally had to punch my brother in the arm, as hard as I freaking could, just to get him to shut up.  When he did I told him to suck it up and stop acting like a baby.

After that he’d followed me around the house, silently sulking, but not leaving my side for even a minute.

And then my cell finally rang, and the smooth, cultured voice of Hanabal Lecter flowed into my ear.  “So good to hear from you, Clarice…it’s been such a long time.”

“You called me,” I pointed out, deadpan.

“So I imagined the six separate emails and texts you sent me over the last twelve hours.”

He had me there.  “So why did it take you so long to call me back, Nev—”

“If you want to speak with me, Agent Starling, you know what to call me by.”

Really?  It had been over a year since I last talked with the twitchy computer hacker, and he still wanted to roll-play.

I knew what he wanted me to call him: either Hannabal or Doctor Lecter.

Good grief the bullshit I had to endure!

I took a deep, agitated breath and slowly let it out.  Stay calm…don’t start screaming…

I slipped into my best Jodie Foster/West Virginia accent.  “I need your help, Doctor Lecter.  I believe you have information that is crucial to my investigation.”

I heard Neville sigh on the other end of the phone connection.  I cringed at the thought I’d just given the little pervert a happy.

“But whatever can I do for you, Agent Starling?”

I paused, not wanting to even hint about what had been stored on an Amazon.com server.  I knew he surfed through that mega giant’s system like a kid in a candy store…shit, I was so tired I was mixing my metaphors.

So I started innocuously enough.  “Do you still dabble in Amazon account hacking?”

“Oh,” I could literally hear the smile spread across his overly pierced lips.  “You’re asking about that little pornographic video Michael Long had stored on his wish list.”

Shit, he already had it.

“Surprisingly good picture quality and sound.  But I think your brother’s performance, and the rather gymnastic aptitude of the Mayor, were the best parts.”

I blew out the breathe I was holding and cut to the chase.  “So what the hell do you want?”

*****

I sat and stared at the Time Life Magazine my mother had left lying on the coffee table, unable to—or unwilling to—comprehend what I’d just heard.

“Come again?”

Neville’s blunt, true voice cut through the connection.  “How much plainer do I have say it?  To keep me silent, and for me to destroy every copy of the video I possess, I want your hot, stupid jock of a brother to fuck me!”

I clamped my eyes shut and cursed my bad luck.  He
had
said what I’d thought he’d said.

I opened them and looked bitterly at my brother.  He mouthed the word “What?”

“You’ve got to be kidding?”

What was it with everyone wanting to have sex with my moronic brother?  The mayor, Michael Long, half the girls in my school…and now this jackass.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I said.  That’s me, master of diplomacy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, why him?”

He sighed bitterly.  “Just look at him.”

I glanced at my brother again.  He looked as stupid and macho as usual.  “I’m looking at him.  What exactly am I’m supposed to be seeing?”

“He’s the best looking guy I’ve ever met.  And now that I’ve seen every hot inch of him in action—”

“TMI, Neville—”

“Hannabal—”

“Whatever!”

Neville groaned.  “He’s all I can think about.”

Good grief this sucked.

Marcus leaned forward and snapped his fingers in my face, mouthing “What?” again.

I covered the receiver of my cell phone.  “As payment for destroying the video, he wants to have sex with you.”

He stood up straight and his eyes went wild and wide.  “What?”