4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
GRIFF
My dick has been half-hard since Ledger flung himself into my arms last night without warning. I hadn’t realized until his warm body was pressed up against mine, his hot breath fluttering against the crook of my neck, how long it’s been since I’ve touched another person. Outside of brief pats on the shoulder or back from the guys at work, of course. I shiver and bite back a groan, my cock thickening again and my balls aching at the memory of how good Ledger felt and how nice he smelled, like moss and sunshine and flowers.
My stomach flutters as I pour my morning cup of coffee. Was he serious about his offer? I was going to do the labor for free because why the hell not? It’s not like I have anything better to do in the evenings or on the weekends, so I might as well make myself useful. Is it taking advantage to take him up on it if he’s the one who offered?
A rapid pounding on my back door makes me jump.
“Motherfucker,” I hiss, missing my mug and accidentally pouring hot coffee over my hand. The knocking just keeps going without pause and my pulse spikes. Shit, maybe Ledger is having some other major emergency. I can’t imagine who else would be knocking at my back door.
I grab a rag to wipe my hand dry and haul ass to answer the knocking. I can see Ledger through the glass before I even reach it, streaks of plaster still in his hair, a towel slung over his shoulder, and a huge smile on his face. He bounces on his toes, continuing to knock even after he sees me. I sweep my gaze over the rest of him as I near the door. He looks like he’s dressed in what he sleeps in—a pair of loose-fitting athletic shorts and a t-shirt with a crow on it that says, “crows before bros.” He doesn’t look injured, and a quick glance behind him at his house tells me it’s still standing and not on fire or anything.
He gestures impatiently as I move the wooden stick out of the door and flick the lock open.
“What’s—” I start to grumble, but he grabs my arm and yanks me through the doorway.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry. You’re going to miss it.”
“Miss what?” I frown, looking longingly at the coffee I abandoned on the counter. The glee written all over Ledger’s face has laid to rest any of my worries, leaving me a little annoyed that my morning routine has been interrupted.
Maybe saving him from that burst pipe yesterday was a mistake. Now he thinks we’re friends. Years of leading a carefully curated hermit lifestyle and I go and ruin it in a single afternoon.
“Cranes,” he says gleefully, dragging me through the backyard. The dew from the grass clings to my bare feet and sends a chill through me in spite of the heat of the morning. “Whooping cranes. They must have nested in that wetland area just outside of the neighborhood.”
“Cranes?” I repeat blandly. I’m missing out on my peaceful morning routine of drinking my coffee in silence for large birds?
“Don’t say it like that,” he chides. “It’s so cool, you’ll see. They have two babies and oh my god, there they are.” We come to an abrupt stop in his front yard and directly across the street there are four birds, two adults and two babies. One of the adults makes a loud sound and flaps its wings, not leaving the ground but puffing itself up in an attempt to scare us off.
“Oh shit,” I mutter.
“So cool, right?” Ledger gushes. “You can tell they’re whooping cranes and not Sandhill cranes by the red crown. They’re very territorial, which is why they must be nesting nearby, especially if they’re here with their colts. Did you know that whooping cranes are the rarest species of crane in the world? It wasn’t that long ago their population was down to only twenty birds in the entire world. They’re making a comeback though. Well, kind of anyway. There’s still only an estimated six hundred or so, all descended from the same flock.”
He clutches my arm as he rambles, leaning into me like it’s a totally natural thing to do. He’s clearly a very touchy-feely guy, I’m sure it is a totally normal thing for him to do without even thinking about it. It shouldn’t be making my whole body tingle and my heart race, but, fuck, it feels so damn good just to have someone’s hands on me in such a casual way.
The other crane makes a loud whooping noise, and they usher the babies—colts, apparently—away, disappearing behind the house across the street. Ledger sighs happily and then lets go of my arm and turns towards me with a beaming smile.
“See? Aren’t you glad I dragged you out here?”
I frown, not sure how to answer that. But my lack of response doesn’t seem to faze him. He pulls the towel off his shoulder and shakes it out, then drapes it around his neck.
“So, this might be an awkward request, but I don’t have any water right now and I was wondering if you would mind me using your shower?”
“Oh.” I frown a little harder. I didn’t even think about how inconvenient it would be to leave him without running water for twenty-four hours. I should have run to the hardware store last night and bought the pipe to replace the rusted-through portion. “Yeah, of course.”
“You’re amazing. You’re my knight in shining armor, my guardian angel, my savior.”
Heat rises in my cheeks at his over-the-top praise.
“No problem,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck and dipping my head so he won’t see me blushing.
Ledger continues to chatter away with way too much enthusiasm for this early, especially pre-coffee, and we make our way back around through the backyard and into my house. I slide the door closed behind us and the back of my neck prickles with awareness at the realization that it’s been a long damn time since anyone but me has been in this house. I keep it clean, so it’s not that I’m embarrassed about him seeing it, it’s more that I feel exposed having someone in my space.
I shift awkwardly and rub the back of my neck again.
“The bathroom is right through there.” I point to the hallway off the living room that leads to the bathroom and my bedroom. “Help yourself to whatever you need.”
“Thanks. Seriously, you’re a lifesaver.” He rakes his fingers through his flat, plaster-streaked hair and lingers for a second just looking at me. If having him stand inside my house felt exposing, his probing hazel eyes on me make it feel like I’m being stripped bare.
I swallow hard, and then he smiles and finally turns to head to the shower. I let out a breath, my shoulders sagging as I reach down to adjust my stiff, aching cock. I hear the bathroom door click closed behind him, followed by the sound of the shower. I make my way into the kitchen to finally have my coffee.
Thoughts of Ledger’s naked body flood directly to the front of my mind and my blood heats in my veins. I wonder again if he meant his offer to trade sex for handiwork, or if he was just flirting or joking last night.
Fuck, I hope he was serious about it.
LEDGER
I’m naked in Griff’s house! Not in his bed or anything, but still . This might be even more exciting than seeing the cranes. Well, maybe not more exciting. If Griff was naked in here with me, now that would be more exciting than the cranes. But since I am still alone and they were whooping cranes, I think they still win this round. It’s a very close second though.
While I wait for the water to heat up, I peek into some of the cabinets and drawers, even though it’s bad house guest etiquette. There’s nothing exciting. Extra toothpaste, floss, beard oils, and razors. The mirror starts to fog with steam, so I abandon my snooping and step into the shower. I groan under the hot water. The plaster drying in my hair drove me crazy all night, itching and flaking. It wasn’t until this morning that the brilliant idea hit me to come over here and ask to use Griff’s shower. I was going to be less weird about it and wait until he came out with his coffee to pop out and ask, but then I spotted the cranes in my front yard and all bets were off.
I stick my head under the water to get my hair wet, then shake it out of my eyes and look around the shower. His shampoo is the same as the rest of his toiletries—basic, no frills. It’s the shampoo you grab at the supermarket because it’s on sale and you don’t really care what you use. I wonder if there’s anything Griff is particular about. What’s the thing he has to have a certain brand of? What’s the item he would drive to the next town over for if it was out of stock here? I pick up the shampoo bottle and my gaze lands on something behind it. Something far more interesting than shampoo. I grin and my cock jerks.
“Hello,” I mutter with a chuckle, setting the shampoo down and picking up the small bottle of lube. It’s a generic brand like everything else, and the bottle is half-empty.
The image fills my mind of Griff standing right here with his hard dick in his hand, water cascading over his body. My cock thickens and aches. Fuck, if snooping in his cabinets was bad etiquette, jerking off in his shower, with his lube, has got to be even worse. There has to be something wrong with me, because that only makes my dick harder. I reach down and stroke my shaft with a couple of slow, loose tugs. Goose bumps erupt over my skin in spite of the hot water and the steam heavy in the air around me.
“Fuck it,” I mutter, pulling my hand off my dick, clicking the cap open with my thumb, and pouring some lube into my palm.
Wrapping my slicked hand around my stiff, throbbing shaft again, I groan and sag against the wall. I brace my free hand against the slippery tile, huffing out a shuddering breath and pumping my hand slowly up and down the length of my cock. I let my head hang forward and I close my eyes, picturing Griff again. I bet he has big balls that swing and bounce with every stroke of his cock. I try to imagine the deep, purring sounds he might make with my hand wrapped around his cock instead of his own. I imagine all that dark body hair of his dripping wet and matted down, rivulets of water running down his skin, gathering the flavor of his sweat along the way.
I bite my lip against a louder grunt, thrusting into my grip, my cock sliding easily through my slicked fist. There’s something so filthy and intimate about stealing his lube. Like we’re sharing a jerk-off sleeve or a cum rag.
A heated shudder rocks my body, and I choke back another moan, snapping my hips faster. I want to stay in here until the water runs cold, thinking about the ways I plan to make Griff grunt and moan later. Unfortunately, I can’t spend all morning in Griff’s shower playing with my cock, as much fun as that would be.
Does he suspect I’m jerking off in here? I picture him standing outside the bathroom door with his ear pressed up against it, his hand down his shorts and his breathing heavy as he strains to hear the muffled sounds of me getting myself off.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I pant quietly, letting myself groan just a little louder. Not enough that he could hear me from the kitchen, but maybe loud enough that he could hear me if he were in the hallway trying to listen.
My toes curl against the slick porcelain tub and my balls tighten. I clench my jaw and grunt one last time as my cock starts to pulse in my fist, spilling streaks of cum down the tile wall. It dribbles down and clings in thick globs, evidence of my very naughty house guest behavior. I shudder and pant, sagging a little harder against the wall and trying to catch my breath.
Fuck, I hope he lets me get my hands on him tonight. I want to make that big grizzly bear roar. I wipe my cum off the walls and get my footing again, then grab the shampoo and hurry through the rest of my shower before toweling off and getting dressed. On my way out of Griff’s bathroom, I snag one last thing.
I peek into the kitchen and find it empty. My stomach sinks. Maybe he already took off for work? I slip my shoes on and head for the back door.
I stop in my tracks right outside and grin.
“Hey, you’re still here.”
He grunts, leaning against the railing and taking a sip of his coffee. He runs his eyes over me slowly. His gaze smolders through his usual scowl, heating my skin and tempting my cock to wake up and go again.
I can feel the weight of what I grabbed in my back pocket. I smirk wider and reach back to tug it out. It takes a second for Griff’s eyes to focus on it. When they do, his gaze darkens a little more. He puffs his chest up and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.
“What—”
“I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed this. I’m out and I figured I’d need it for tonight.” I wave the bottle of lube that’s still slightly damp from the shower and a little less than half-full now.
Griff’s eyes follow it and his throat bobs hard with a swallow.
“That’s fine,” he says in a low, gruff voice.
“Cool. I’ll see you later then.” I shoot him a wink and head home to get ready for work.
Something tells me it’s going to be a long day, but at least I have something to look forward to at the end of it.