4

“What are you looking for?”

I clear my throat. “I’m just…making a list of everything that needs to be fixed or replaced. And my own notes about decorating.”

He looks surprised. “Decorating?”

“That’s what I do. I’m an interior designer.”

“Ah,” he says softly. “That’s why your parents called you.”

I nod.

“Still doesn’t mean they gave you a fair task.”

The same defensive reaction I had yesterday rises up. “We’ll see.”

“Yes, we will.” He steps past me, so close that I can feel the heat coming off his skin, and I haul in a breath like I’m surfacing from underwater.

Taking a moment, I look over my list and make some notes about the entryway and the living room next to me. I need a couple of minutes to center myself before I’m in the same room with him again, because clearly, I’m not able to control myself. Fuck.

“Klara?” Rey’s voice calls from the back of the house.

“Yeah?”

“You should see this.”

He’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen, and I try to move past him, but he catches me around the waist just in time. Good thing too, because the floor is…gone. The support beams are there and then nothing but the crawlspace under the house, which looks like I don’t want to be rolling around in that dirt.

“Well,” I say. “This looks fun.”

“Some of these older houses have good bones. It’s possible that the floor was a good hardwood or some kind of reclaimed wood that was scavenged.”

I sigh. “Perfect. I love that. Makes my life so much easier.”

“At least you don’t have to rip anything out. Should be an easy replacement,” he says with a chuckle.

It takes me a second to realize that he has me against his body. His arm is wrapped casually around my waist, and it’s so long that it curls to my hip. I like the way it feels. How long has it been since anyone has touched me like this?

It’s been a long time. I’ve been so focused on my work that there’s not a lot of time for dating. And the one big relationship I had ended two years ago. I have to keep myself still in order to stop myself from leaning into him. God, I love just being touched.

Slowly, Rey’s thumb moves where it rests against my hip. It wakes me up, the stab of desire that curls through my gut jolting me back to reality. I pull away from him and move back into the hallway. “Definitely something to add to my list.”

Rey smirks. “Fixing the floor or snuggling with me?”

“I was not snuggling.”

“Your ass was up against me, Klara. I definitely felt some snuggling.”

A blush rushes up my neck and across my cheeks. I hadn’t done that. I’d been forcing myself to keep still. But I can’t stop myself from glancing toward his jeans to see if I affected him at all, which only makes him smile wider.

I clear my throat. “Let’s just check the rest of the house and see if it has floors.”

“You’re the boss.”

My imagination runs wild with his tone. Am I the boss of the renovations or the boss in the naughty visions I’m seeing in my head? I’m not sure. But either way, the thought of him being the boss makes me shudder. In a good way.

I swear, this man has hijacked my brain. Just because he’s been a fantasy for years doesn’t mean that this is a good idea. Or that I can’t control myself. At least that’s what I’m telling myself because as I walk up the stairs, I swear I can feel his eyes on my legs and my ass, and I’m definitely not swaying a little bit more than necessary knowing that he’s looking.

A cold shower would have been a good idea this morning. Because this? This is sweet torture having him only a few feet away.

And it continues to be torture through this house and the last one. He’s always there. Watching me with eyes that I swear I’m imagining hunger in. But right now, all I want to do is take a shower and have a drink.

“That’s all I’m going to do for today,” I tell him as we exit the last house. “Gotta make a game plan for all of this.”

“You want to have a drink?”

“Yes,” I say automatically. “I really do. But right now, the only thing that I’m going to do is take a shower.”

Rey smiles. “How about you shower, and I’ll shower, and when you’re done you come over to my place for the drink?”

I stare at him for a moment. This is a bad idea. I can barely control myself now. And in his house? This is a bad idea. “Where do you live?”

He says an address that’s a couple blocks over. My heart thumps in my chest. So close.

“Come on,” he says with a grin. “I promise I won’t bite, unless you ask.”

I can pretend all I want that I resisted, but in the end, there was never a snowball’s chance in hell that I was going to say no. “Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

Reynard

I run my hands through my hair as I head back to my house. The shower I’m about to take is going to be ice fucking cold. After a couple hours of watching Klara’s ass in leggings and feeling her up against me when I kept her from falling through the floor? Jesus, I’m done for.

My clothes are coming off as I climb the stairs. I need to move fast so that I’m ready when she gets here. And if I’m going to have any chance of keeping my hands to myself, I need some relief.

It doesn’t matter that I already got myself off to thoughts of her ass last night. And this morning. The need feels absolutely insatiable. I’m hard before I even step into the shower. Hell, I’ve been half-hard all day and desperately trying to keep it from showing.

If Klara is here and she wants more, I’ll have no problem with that. But I’ll never assume, even if I’m begging the universe for it.

My hand moves with intention, seeking pleasure. Remembering when I stumbled over her yesterday, felt her body against mine. I fantasize about how the rest of her would feel.

I stroke and twist under my shaft, increasing the pressure until it’s exactly the way I like it. After that, it’s only minutes until pleasure sweeps down my spine and flows down the drain. My groan echoes off the shower walls.

What I wouldn’t give to have her in here with me. My imagination has no end to ideas of what we could do in here together.

I rinse myself off and wrap my towel before I fall into the trap of thinking about Klara on her knees in the shower. I’d end up with my hands around my cock again, and I don’t have time for that.

This Klara is a very different Klara from the one that I remember, but I have no idea how long she takes to get ready. I’ll probably have time, but I want to be sure. Getting dressed, I do a sweep of the house to make sure that everything is clean before I grab a beer and crack it open. I don’t know what she likes to drink, but I’ve got a decently stocked bar.

Energy is prickling under my skin and I feel like I could run a marathon right now. I want her to be here, and I can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the living room. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Hell, I haven’t felt this way ever. There’s something electric about Klara that I can’t let go of. And maybe getting her away from that hell of a project will let me get to know her better.

Now I’m wishing that I really got to know her when we were younger, and we had the chance.

It’s not long before I see her heading down the sidewalk toward me, and if I were smart, I would play it cool and wait for her to ring the doorbell.

I’ve never been cool.

Opening the door, I lean against the doorframe while she approaches, and it gives me the chance to just look at her. She’s wearing another skirt, but this time it’s a dress. Flowing and breezy, the fabric skimming her body and falling away as she walks. Those little peeks of her body make it very hard for me to keep my eyes on her face. But not that hard, because Klara is so fucking beautiful, I feel like I can’t breathe.

And with damp hair curling around her shoulders and the dress, she looks so much more at ease.

Stopping in front of me, she smiles. “Hi.”

“Hey.” I step aside and gesture into the house.

I’ve lived here for years and it’s been my passion project. But now I’m looking at it the way that Klara must be—with fresh eyes. Suddenly, I’m nervous.

But her eyes go wide as she looks around the house. It’s a lot bigger than the ones in the cul-de-sac she’s repairing, in a nicer neighborhood. It sounds crazy that they would be so close together. You’d think the two areas were suburbs of two different cities, but that’s Affliction Creek. It’s just the way it is.

The interior of this house is wood. A lot of wood. Carved pieces mixed with white walls and warm accents. Hardwood floors that I take time to make sure are always shining.

“This is…beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

She laughs softly. “Honestly, I didn’t realize that they made houses like this in Affliction Creek.”

“They don’t,” I say, shutting the door. “At least, not typically. There’s almost nothing left of the house I bought except for the bones.”