20. Jake
TWENTY
JAKE
I should get up. I should really get up.
Darcy’s asleep, but she’s got hold of my hand and arm and fuck me, because I don’t want to let go.
What am I doing? I’m lying in my boss’s bed, enjoying her soft, warm body against mine, her round ass pressed into my crotch.
Under different circumstances, this would be hot as hell. I’d sit up on my elbow and rub my lips over that sweet spot between her hairline, her ear, and her jaw. I’d make her moan and squirm and whine and beg and say my name in a way that wasn’t so much annoyed as desperate. I’d grind between these luscious cheeks, let my hand trail down her front, tease those gorgeous breasts. Work my thumb in slow circles around her nipple until she was pleading for more, then snake my hand between those muscled thighs to see just how wet?—
Those would be different circumstances, and now I’m risking getting a half-stack into my boss’s ass.
I suck in a breath so deep it hurts, trying to reset my dirty thoughts.
Darcy’s sick, and she’s trusting me to take care of her. And I’m doing a damn good job. I’m not even bullshitting—I feel terrible for her. It broke my heart to see her so upset and feeling like her life’s a disaster. She’s super hard on herself, and it’s tough to see that.
From my perspective, she’s doing everything right. I’m not sure why she’s so determined that she’s doing a bad job. I mean, yeah, the horse thing wasn’t the smartest move, but she was also under the gun to get across the creek before it flooded. I hesitated to even step in because I knew she’d beat herself up about that. And not like I didn’t do a stupid horse thing this summer.
With one long breath and one last stare at her in my arms, I weasel my way out of the bed. Before I get back to work, I pop into the cabin where I get a minimal amount of cell service. I think I’ve got her health under control, but in case I have to take her somewhere, I don’t have an emergency contact for her. So I text her uncle.
Hey, this is Jake who works on your farm. Darcy’s sick today so I’m handling stuff. Nothing too bad but she’s pretty dehydrated. Is there someone I should contact if I end up having to take her somewhere?
BILL ROSSETTI
I reckon just us, maybe her mom and dad
Maggie tells me just us
Got it. I’ll let you know if we need outside help
* * *
It’s lunchtime, and my fingers are on the inside of Darcy’s wrist. Her pulse is still way faster than I’d like, especially given she’s sleeping. Her Gatorade bottle is only a quarter gone.
Darcy’s gravelly voice sounds behind me. “Hey.”
I turn to glance at her. “Hey, yourself. How’d you sleep?”
“Weird,” she says, shifting around with a lazy blink. “I had a dream that someone who smelled nice snuggled me to sleep.”
I’m internally wrestling every fiber of my being that wants to slide back under the covers with her.
“What an interesting dream!” I joke. I take her in: pale and drawn with deep circles under her eyes. She’s still pretty sick. “Hey, I’m going to have you try one more thing before we take you for IV fluids.”
Her puffy eyes widen. “Shit. That sounds serious.”
“The solution is easy. You need to take a bath.”
Her head recesses into the pillow. “Like, naked in a bath? We had one cuddle session and now you want me naked?”
Guilt makes my stomach drop because she doesn’t know I’ve already seen the whole show. Or does she know? I’m in such mental anguish that I scrub my hand over my face.
Darcy’s hand lands on my arm. “Jake, I’m kidding. I trust you. Unless you really are just trying to see titties.”
My hand is still cemented over my eyes when I blurt out, “I’ve already seen you naked.”
I squint my eyes open to find Darcy glaring at me. “What.”
“It wasn’t on purpose?—”
“When?” she demands, clearing the rasp out of her voice.
“It was an accident?—”
“Jake Elizabeth Warren?—”
My brow lowers at that. “My middle name isn’t Elizabeth.”
“It should be. Like the politician. Never mind. Answer the question!”
“When you were skinny-dipping,” I say, my whole body flashing hot.
Darcy draws one shaky breath, then two. “What were you, like, jacking off in a bush while you watched me?”
“No! Oh my god! I’m not a sociopath!”
“Then what? This is why you told me to take a dip in the pond? And the skinny-dipping Never Have I Ever question?”
My hands rake through my hair and comb down my cheeks. “Your screams sounded like someone in trouble. I thought I had to save your life or something. And at that point, I didn’t even know you existed, or at least that you were living and working here. I was just as surprised as you are now.”
Darcy’s expression softens and her eyes follow where her finger traces the squares on her bed’s pink and white quilt. “Why were you here that early?”
“Bill told me the wrong time. He told Becca and Caleb a different time. Just a simple miscommunication.” I pause. “And just because I saw you naked on accident doesn’t make me think I have the right to see you naked again. I won’t look, but I’ll be there to help you in and out of the bath if you need it.”
With a sigh, Darcy sits up in the bed and scoots back against the pillows. “That’s it. You have to get naked to make it even.”
Shock and horror cross my face, but then I catch her teasing expression. I pull the front of my shirt up to my pecs.
“Oh, stop showing off your perfect abs. It’s exhausting. Go run my bath and throw me a towel so I can get naked in peace.”
I bite back a comment about her saying I have perfect abs and head to the bathroom. I stare into the filling tub while I wait for her to call for assistance. “Ready!”
I find her sitting on her bed in just the towel, her hair up in the ponytail I made. I step to her side, wrapping one arm behind her back and under her arm, and the other hand on her elbow nearest me. “I’m here if you get weak.”
She huffs, but lets me lead her into the bathroom. She stops at the sink, giving me a sidelong glance as she puts toothpaste on her toothbrush. “I must really be sick. You’re being freakishly nice to me today.”
“When am I not nice to you?”
Darcy quirks an eyebrow. “The pestering and heckling?”
“Which you admitted you like.”
She finishes brushing and spits in the sink, talking while she rinses her toothbrush. “But it’s not nice.”
I chuckle. “I’m not sure you like nice, darlin’.”
Darcy scoffs and wavers her way to the bathtub. “Who doesn’t like nice?”
I snort a laugh and she giggles while I hold out my hand. “Help you in?”
Darcy takes my hand and, using some tablecloth trick, I help her lower into the tub and pull her towel away without seeing anything. “I’ll go get you some clothes to change into.”
“Thanks,” comes from behind the shower curtain.
I find a t-shirt and shorts pretty easily, but the inevitability of digging in her underwear drawer becomes apparent. It is absolutely none of my business what Darcy wears under her clothes, and I’m perfectly capable of being cool about this. I’ll just stick my hand in there and take whatever comes out first.
I plunge my hand inside the drawer, grabbing a soft piece of cloth and something hard and plastic. I open my hand to find a barely-there powder blue thong. Strings with a triangle to cover what’s probably the most wonderful pussy the world has ever known.
But the plastic thing. It’s like a naughty oyster or clam or something—at least, I assume it’s naughty. What other plastic thing do women keep in their underwear drawers?
I shouldn’t look. I really shouldn’t look. But my hands have a mind of their own, opening the clamshell lid to find a U-shaped contraption. I pull it out to examine it because, again, my hands do whatever they want apparently?
And while I’m doing that, it starts to buzz.
I am not breathing.
Yes, I was 100% being a pest when I gave Darcy shit about her vibrator. I did not expect to meet it today.
“Everything okay out there?” Darcy asks.
When I try to turn it off, the other end starts whirring.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I chant under my breath.
“Jake?” Darcy asks, amusement in her tone. My face is so boiling hot you could fry an egg on it.
“Do you need to get off?” I ask, sweat beading at my brow. “I mean out? Do you need to get out?”
“Nope,” she sings in just the most contented tone you could imagine. “Happy as a clam. This feels good.”
Please, God, don’t let her talk about anything feeling good right now. And clam?! Are you joking? A frantic laugh bubbles out of me.
“Jake, are you snooping?” Darcy sounds so entertained.
“No!” I squeak out. Why is this happening to me? At me? And why won’t this fucking thing turn off? This is what I get for teasing her about this vibrator. Should I just stomp on it until it dies and own up to it, I don’t know, on my last day of work, then leave forever and just mail her a replacement? That seems like the best solution right now.
“It’s the middle button, cowboy.”
Oh. My. God. I’m going to puke. Wither. Die. Explode. Stormy watches me from her perch on Darcy’s bed, looking exceedingly bored. I saved the damn cat, now would be a great time for her to save me.
Darcy’s right, and the middle button does shut the damn thing off. I slam it back into the case, fumble it into the drawer with a telltale plastic clunk, and slide the drawer shut, which has the audacity to let out a loud squeal.
“Fuck me,” I mumble.
“I’m a little too sick to do that today, cowboy. Hope you can understand.”
Her fucking mouth. If I weren’t so embarrassed, I’d be thinking about making that mouth do all sorts of other things. But how can I think about things like that when I’m the fucking perv who’s digging through her masturbation tool collection without her permission?
I have to face the music. I sigh out a hysterical breath, grit my teeth, and go back into the bathroom, tossing her clothes onto the toilet lid and clearing my throat. “Do you need help getting out or would you rather I go make your lunch?”
She doesn’t say anything, so I have to look at her. Just her head and arm poke around the shower curtain, both resting on the tub’s rim. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth with the most vicious grin. “Find anything interesting?”
I swallow sawdust in a desert-dry mouth, my pulse surely visible in my throat. “Do you like grilled cheese?”
Darcy is so very amused with herself as she smirks up at me. “Sure.”
I’m too rattled to deal with her shit. “Sure, you like it? Or sure, you don’t care?”
I can’t fucking do this. She’s got mischievous eyes and the fucking curve of her breast is visible at the edge of the shower curtain. My dick already feels like it’s in an inappropriate state of hardness, and with that smirk and her fucking with me, I just—ugh.
“Sure,” she says again.
I clamp my teeth together and suck in a breath through my nose. I want to tell her she’s being a little brat, but again, I can’t exactly talk when I was the one putting my grubby little paws all over the thing she sticks in her vagina to make herself come. This is what I get for being a curious little shit and wanting to see what all the fuss is about.
“Great,” I bite out, and leave her alone.