Chapter 25 The Natural Plumber
The Natural Plumber
WINONA
Mitchell carried me to the house. As in, he lifted me so my legs wrapped around his waist and gently tipped my head to his shoulder, and carried me inside, where Anita opened the door and got the shower running.
Mitchell held me tight, face buried in my shoulder. So tight, I wasn’t sure he was going to let me go. “Winona,” he whispered. “Winona, Winona, Winona.”
When he finally did, I leaned into him, then blinked, finally taking in where he’d brought us. “This is where we first met.”
Mitchell chuckled, feeling for his non-existent beard. “Feels like a million years ago.”
I put a hand over my mouth, looking around. The last time I’d been in this bathroom I’d been terrified for my life, at least for a few minutes. Now, especially after what we’d just done, I felt safer than I ever had with any man.
And this opened up everything. I kissed him again, cupping his face in my hands.
Mitchell helped me strip off my clothes, then his, and then we got into his shower together.
I don’t know how long we stood there, Mitchell gently brushing away the dirt and grass stuck to my skin.
He washed me with a natural loofah that covered us both with a soft white foam.
He asked if I was okay, and told me how beautiful I was, and didn’t make any of it sexual.
He didn’t spend extra attention on any particular part of me, and when he kissed me, it was chaste, with a level of tenderness that made me wonder what it would be like to be taken care of by him fifty years from now.
With the practiced, loving touch of knowing someone so intimately for decades.
When Mitchell turned me around to wash my hair though, his cock grazed against my ass, and it was definitely not soft.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step backward. “I’m not trying anything, I promise.”
“It’s okay, Mitchell,” I whispered, turning around and taking him in my hand.
He was beautiful; thick and veiny. The perfect size.
His jaw clenched, his eyes closing briefly.
But he removed my hand, bringing my knuckles up to his lips.
“Don’t tempt me, Firecracker, or we’ll never get out of this shower. ”
“Is that a bad thing?”
His lips turned up. “No. But I have food planned.”
My stomach growled as if on command.
“Snitch,” I admonished her.
Mitchell laughed, the sound making me glow gold with the unexpected joy of it. I think he needed the release. Because after that, Mitchell relaxed, finally believing I was truly okay.
After drying off, Mitchell guided me to his closet, where a rack stood near the back, filled with women’s clothes. All, I discovered when peering at the tags, looked like they would fit me.
“I only told you my size this morning,” I said, incredulous.
“Yeah, I should have asked sooner, or there’d be more choices.”
I gaped. There were at least a dozen options.
But I snapped my jaw shut again. I really needed to stop being surprised when it came to Mitchell.
And get used to being spoiled. Cher had reminded me of that when I’d called her freaking out, because a box of books showed up on my doorstop last week.
They were all advanced copies from my favorite authors, along with three different types of e-readers, in case I changed my mind about only reading paperbacks.
When I told her about the credit card, which I still hadn’t used, she went a little off the deep end.
“How many times in your life are you going to get gifts rained on you by a man like him, Winona?” Cher had demanded.
“We’ve got two weeks to make you a queen.
” We’d gone shopping that afternoon after work, each coming home with a new outfit and full stomachs from our favorite Chinese place. It was a start.
But that phrasing she’d used had still pinched something in my chest. Each time Mitchell was sweet to me, it was a reminder this was a time-limited thing. Which I totally understood. I’d made peace with it. But the feelings were getting less and less capped with each passing day.
“Wear whatever you want,” Mitchell said now. “Or nothing at all, but that might make dinner difficult.”
I laughed. “Are we having scalding hot noodles or something?” I pulled out not one, but three different sets of underwear and bras, ranging from scandalous to utilitarian.
“I meant it might make dinner difficult for me,” he said.
I looked down to see the robe he’d wrapped me in had slipped loose, revealing a stretch of cleavage that might be scandalous if we hadn’t been banging on the lawn like rabbits only a short time ago. His eyes went from my skin to the lace I held in my hand, which wasn’t even the sexiest pair.
I couldn’t not tease him a little.
Eyes on him, I stepped into the underwear. “You mean this would be a problem for you? I asked, untying the robe.
“Winona—“ he warned, but his words fell away as I let go of the ties completely, letting the thing fall to the floor.
It was funny how little modesty I had with him. I used to care about the way my hips dipped on the sides; the way my stomach rounded out down low. How my boobs, which I had to secure with extra thick-strapped bras, hung just a little more pendulous than all the beautiful women in the movies.
But I’d already shown Mitchell everything.
Every strong moment, and every weak one.
And the way his eyes raked over me now, his pupils flattening out as he dragged his gaze back to meet mine, I knew he not only didn’t care about the way I didn’t match those perfect ideals, but he wanted to eat me up.
He’d told me as much. Shown me as much with the way he reacted to my presence.
“Not fair, Firecracker.” He took a step toward me. I could see the tent of his robe quite clearly.
“Except,” I said, sashaying past him. “I need to get something done first.” I left the room, jogging down the stairs in my bare feet, praying the package I’d prepared had gotten to its destination.
Cassandra, as it turned out, knew one of the people who took care of Mitchell’s domestic issues.
She’d accepted the package I dropped off with her without question.
I promised the woman that if he asked about it she could tell him it was me, but she’d just waved a hand.
“He won’t see it. First of all, he’s never home.
I’ve never once seen him. Did you know the shopper lets me take home all the food in the fridge every week?
It’s hardly ever touched. I haven’t bought groceries for six months.
And that’s on top of a ridiculous paycheck for one day of work a week.
” She’d sighed. “I’m going to be so sad when this is over and I have to go back to the hotel.
Which is a great job! But nothing like this. ”
As promised, when I opened the cupboard downstairs, the box of tools and supplies I’d had her bring was tucked neatly in the space, the mess of broken pipes long since cleaned out.
I inspected the remaining plumbing. Except for the missing piece, it was surprisingly intact, and the cupboard was roomy with nothing else in it.
This would be a quick job. I’d never replaced a p-trap naked before, though.
“Winona, you don’t need to do that,” Mitchell said, his voice tight.
I turned around to see him braced against the kitchen island, eyes on my ass, which was sheathed in lacy black underwear. Was he remembering the last time I’d been like this, only an hour ago? When he’d…
I blinked away the memory. I had to focus. “I can’t just let a broken pipe be, Mitchell.” I pulled a piece of PVC out of the box. “This one’ll cost you, though.”
“How did you get tools here? And what will it cost?” He knew it wouldn’t be money.
I bit my lip, looking over my shoulder once more. “The fee is you’ll need to watch.”
“That doesn’t sound like a fair deal.”
“From over here.”
He lifted a brow, but circled the island. “I’m still not understanding how this is payment.”
“Get down on the ground,” I said, my eyes dropping to the floor.
Mitchell, like me, had gotten only as far as fresh underwear.
He looked delicious in his form-fitting black briefs.
I forced myself to turn back to the pipes.
“You’re going to school, big man. I’m going to teach you how to do this, in case you ever feel the need to smash the shit out of your pipes again. ”
I could hear the smirk in his voice. “You ever heard of Uhura?"
“What?”
“Never mind. Another very capable woman. On Star Trek. She fixed her own gear sometimes. It was very hot.”
“Star Trek, huh?”
Mitchell did the Spock hand thing. Somehow, he made it hot. I couldn’t help laughing.
“My hands can do other things,” Mitchell said, running his thumb over his lips.
Heat poured through me. I turned back to the pipes. “There will be no touching.”
“The pipes? Or you?”
“Both. You’re an amateur, Mitchell.”
“I can assure you I’m not.”
I glared at him. “You can’t touch any of this while you learn,” I said, circling the air around my body with my hand.
He held his up. “I’m just saying this could be fun for you too.”
“Oh, it already is.”
I turned around fully, resting my elbows on the cabinet.
His eyes immediately dropped to my exposed breasts. “Fuck,” he breathed.
“Now, pay attention.” I pointed the pipe in my hand at him. “First you need to make sure you have the right size pipes.”
Mitchell bit his lip, his eyes still on my breasts. “I seem to remember everything fitting perfectly.”
Heat scored a line down to my center. I kept my voice steady. “Are you paying attention? Eyes on me, Harrington.” I tapped the pipe against my right breast, making a soft slapping noise. “This is called the trap arm, and it needs to go into the wall.”
Mitchell looked pained. “Winona, please.”
“Is the water turned off?”
“I don’t know—”
“We need to know for sure.”
“Anita!” Mitchell snapped. His eyes hadn’t left my breasts. His bottom lip went into his mouth like he truly was hungry for me.