Flushing His Pipe (DP Construction #4)

1. Jameson

Chapter one

Jameson

M usic filters through the wooden door in front of me. I take a deep breath and raise my fist to knock, but Naomi's voice stops me in my tracks.

"Good boy. Come."

The tinkling sounds of a collar let me know she's talking to her dog, Fred, but my dick jumps to attention all the same, ready to do her bidding.

"You're such a good boy."

I glance behind me, hoping nobody catches me eavesdropping. My heart pounds in my chest, my palms are sweaty, and hell, if my cock isn't already hard for the sexy, curvy woman behind this door. I’m at half-mast, knowing I’m going to see her. Hearing her voice is like airborne Viagra.

"Do you like it like that?"

Oh, fuck. Who knew there were so many normal things you can say to a pet that are filthy when taken out of context?

I shake my head, trying to force myself to knock and end my misery, but I can't stop listening to her soft, soothing voice, even if her words aren’t intended for me.

Naomi is one of Violet's best friends, and she’s now living on the construction site as we finish up renovations on the reception hall for Brooks and Violet.

It isn't ideal, but Violet insisted. Naomi was instrumental in getting Brooks and Violet together, so if she's willing to live in dust and noise, Violet wants us to make it happen.

We're on schedule, but only by working early mornings.

Naomi has taken up temporary residence in the bridal accommodations studio, which is an annex to the ceremony space.

It has a kitchen, two bathrooms, two bedrooms, and a large living room space.

But we haven't finished the work, so I'm constantly interrupting her.

"Awww. You just need some good loving, don't you?"

Well, if that doesn't hit the nail on the head, darling.

I adjust the hard bulge pressing painfully against my zipper. For some fucking reason, the baby voice she's using with her dog is only making me harder. The flash of Naomi's belly swollen with my baby hits me like a ton of bricks, and I place a hand against the wall to steady myself.

Holy shit.

What is wrong with me?

"All right, let me finish this, and I'll give you a good rub."

Oh, for fuck's sake. I bring my fist down on the door louder than I intended and cringe. I'm a growly beast around this woman, even more so than usual, but I can't help it. She makes me want something I swore off years ago, and I know I’ll only bring her misery if I act on it.

"Come on in, Jameson." Naomi's voice floats from the other side of the door.

I texted her that I was on my way—something I do each time now after catching her in nothing but a towel on a previous visit.

My heart almost stops when I open the door and peek inside. Naomi is in a yoga position, her ass straight up in the air.

"Hey there," Naomi greets me upside down.

I tear my eyes away from her luscious backside long enough to nod. "Excuse me," I mutter, bending to scratch her dog's ears.

Fred gazes up at me, happily burrowing into my legs.

"That's his version of a grin," Naomi says as she brings her hips down to the floor and turns to sit on her mat. "You should be honored. Fred doesn't usually like men."

An irrational flash of anger fires through me. What other men has he had to deal with? I want to demand their names, but I merely grunt in response.

"What do you need to work on today?" Naomi asks.

I meet her blue eyes for the first time since walking into her space. Soulful. That's the word I would use to describe Naomi's eyes. She's gorgeous, tall, curvy, and more flexible than a pipe cleaner, but her eyes have a depth that calls to my soul.

"Uh, I need to measure for the baseboards." I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the spell she's put me under.

Fred follows me over to the back wall like a good little helper, and I pull out my tape measure, staring at it for a solid thirty seconds while my brain reboots.

"Okay, well. Do you mind if I keep going? I'm almost done."

I clear my throat. "No. Go ahead." Because watching you thrust up and down into positions I'd like to fuck you in isn't going to be a distraction at all.

I busy myself taking measurements, pulling out the tape and letting it slide back into the slot as I move around the room.

I'm a plumber by trade, but I learned a lot of other skills while working with my friend Cole's Uncle Bill back in our hometown.

He was a crotchety old man, but he knew his stuff.

Old Bill was the only guy in town who was willing to hire twelve-year-olds.

Said labor laws were the government's way of controlling the masses, and it was his duty to fight back.

Cole, Emmett, Hayes, Max, and I have been friends since grade school, but we became like brothers on the job sites.

When Cole got married a few years back, we visited Duhring Park for the first time.

Old Bill had decided to retire, but he refused to sell me his business, so I convinced the guys to call Duhring Park home and started DP Construction.

Once we started getting more work, I hired Archer to take over most of the plumbing, and I shifted into the foreman role.

Soft music mixes with the scrape of Naomi moving on her mat. I don't dare look at her, but since I'm done, I no longer have a choice.

"I need to get out of here," I whisper to Fred, giving him another rub behind the ears. I swear the furball winks at me.

When I turn to face Naomi, her hips are flattened to the floor, and she's arching her back, her full breasts on display like an offering.

I let out a hiss of air. "Fuck me ."

Naomi's eyes fly open, and she catches me staring at her. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Fine," I huff, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

"Did you get hurt?" Naomi asks, standing and walking toward me.

Oh no. No, no, no, no.

"I'm fine," I practically bark.

Naomi raises an eyebrow at me, but she doesn't stop moving.

"I just, a cramp. In my arm. I got a cramp."

It's not a total lie. My body is killing me. We've been trying to get everything finished, and I’ve put in far longer hours than my body is used to.

"I can help with that." Naomi cracks her knuckles.

The back of my neck heats as I glance at her, then look away. "No, that's not necess—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Naomi cuts me off.

She pushes me toward the chair at the little dining table. The second her skin touches mine, words fly right out of my head, and I sit like a good boy. I'd probably let her shove me into a volcano if she promised to keep her hands on me until the end.

Naomi kneads into my biceps, and it feels like magic as my muscles release. I let out a loud groan that sounds wholly pornographic when she digs into a spot on my upper back that’s been bothering me for a week.

"There you go." Naomi's voice is soft.

I suppress a little whimper when her fingers graze my neck.

Her hands are everywhere as she finds all the knots. "You're so tense, Jameson. When was the last time you had a massage?"

"Um, I, uh..." I groan as she works her way up my neck and into my hair. "My family got me one of those massage guns last year for Christmas, so I use that every once in a while."

"Oh, yeah, those are great." Naomi wraps her arm around the front of my chest to get better leverage, her breasts pressed against my back. "But those are better for, like, hips and stuff. How do you get to your back muscles?"

I shake my head, unable to answer as I try not to come in my pants.

Naomi's voice is suddenly so close that her breath coasts over the shell of my ear as she whispers, "The new massage tables came in a few days ago. I could give you a full-body massage, and we can test them out. Make sure they're good enough for future guests?"

Oh, God. Yes.

"No," I growl. I wish I could run, but standing upright now is not a good idea. "I'm fine. I'm..." I trail off, unsure what to say.

"Jameson, it's no secret that I kind of crashed your space at a bad time. I really appreciate it. When Violet called to offer me the job, I was a few days away from re-signing my lease, so I didn't plan this out very well. I'm looking at apartments."

I stifle a protest as the heat from Naomi's body disappears. She pulls another chair so close to mine that our knees touch. I wonder if I can fake a back injury so I can walk out of this place hunched over because my nether region won’t be calming down for a while.

"What do you think of this one?" Naomi asks, turning her laptop to face me. "It's over on Forest Drive."

"Oh, yeah. That's Aubrey's old place." I swallow hard—the mere proximity of this goddess has me sweating buckets.

"I love how everyone in this town knows everyone. So you've seen it? Is it nice?"

"No. Never been there. Aubrey's fiancé, Max, is one of my best friends."

"Oh, yes! I met Aubrey at the pedicure night last week." Naomi bites her lip.

I think of baseball stats and ice-cold showers as the vision of her riding me to her satisfaction pops into my brain. At some point very soon, I’ll have to leave this chair.

I dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand, trying to ground myself. "Max is out in the main reception hall working today if you want to ask him any questions."

"Oh, that's okay." Naomi waves me off. "I'll look at it this afternoon with Violet, but thank you." She smiles at me, her eyes bouncing from my mouth back to my eyes.

I could kiss her right now, and she’d let me. That realization should spur me to pull her into my arms, but it's like a bucket of cold water being dumped over my head.

"I have to get back to work," I blurt out, standing so fast that the chair tips. Boner be damned.

Naomi catches it as I race to the door. Fred follows me, ready to don a hard hat and put in his time on the job site. I block the entrance with my foot to keep him inside the space.

Naomi strides over and grabs his collar. Our hands touch when she reaches for the door, and I pull mine away like I've been burned. I try not to run, but I'm worried about what I'll do if I stay.

"If you change your mind... I'd love to get my hands on you, Jameson." Naomi stands in the doorway, her curves filling out her yoga pants like a fucking wet dream. What I wouldn't give to pull her into my arms and make her mine.

Instead, I nod and head back to the main job site without another word.

My thoughts are preoccupied with a sexy blonde and her adorable dog when I reach my crew. Emmett tries to shush Max, who has his back to me.

"…he steals his girl. Then they have the nerve to throw the wedding in his hometown? What a dick."

"Hey, Jameson," Archer says quickly.

Max turns to me with a sheepish look.

I reach for my clipboard. "Time to work."

Max, Hayes, and Archer take off immediately, but Emmett hangs back.

"You get an invite or something?" I grumble, realizing he won't leave until we've talked about it.

He shakes his head. "No, but my mom did."

I nod. Right, my aunt and Emmett's mom are friends.

About three years ago, I proposed to my girlfriend, Crystal.

She immediately said yes, and I thought the rest of my life was set.

We invited friends over for an impromptu engagement celebration that night.

During the party, I walked into the bathroom and found her half-naked with my cousin, Kevin.

Turned out that Crystal and Kevin had been sleeping together for almost a year.

Needless to say, the relationship was over.

I was engaged and broken-up within a few hours.

I did a few months of therapy after I moved to Duhring Park, deciding that it was a bad idea to be using power tools day in and day out while carrying so much anger.

It helped me work through my feelings, but I stopped going when the therapist tried to get me to consider dating again.

I'm running a business, and dating people won’t help me build houses.

"I hope they're happy, Emmett." I lock eyes with him over my clipboard so he can see I'm being sincere. He gives me a long look, then nods.

The truth is, Crystal did me a favor. We were doomed from the start.

Nothing I ever did was good enough, and I busted my ass trying to please her.

I proposed because she gave me an ultimatum, and I'm not great with change.

I realize now that we were in a vicious cycle where Crystal would threaten to leave me, and I'd give her whatever she wanted. It wasn’t romantic, and I was ashamed that I was willing to make such a major life decision out of fear of the unknown.

The only bright spot from the cloudy haze of memories from that time is the look on her face when I told her I was leaving Appleton.

Crystal came to my apartment to return the ring, but she wore the red dress she had on the day we met.

I realize now that she was trying to win me back or keep me on the line.

But I felt nothing, which shocked her. I’m sure she thought I'd pine for her for years, but I burst that bubble real quick.

I'm not upset about losing Crystal. No. It was my cousin’s actions that shattered my trust. He was like a brother to me, someone I would have trusted with my life.

His betrayal practically destroyed me. My therapist helped me understand that their actions were no reflection on me.

Their behavior said more about the people they were, and I wasn’t to blame for choices I didn’t make.

I wonder what she would say about my resistance to making a move on Naomi, even though my heart is one thousand percent invested in that little situation.

Emmett claps me on the back, interrupting my thoughts. "From what I've heard, they're miserable."

I grunt in response. I've heard the same, but it doesn't give me the satisfaction that everybody thinks it does.

"Did you see Naomi today?" Emmett asks, taking his sweet time gathering his tools as he fishes for information.

I ignore his question, texting him the measurements I jotted down earlier. "Get those baseboards cut and primed. The annex will be free this afternoon, so we can install it."

Emmett raises a questioning eyebrow.

"She's going apartment hunting today," I snap.

"Maybe you should ask her out for—"

"Get to work, Emmett."

Emmett chuckles as he saunters off to start on his list.

I'm left alone in the main foyer, staring at my clipboard, trying not to remember Naomi’s round, luscious ass in the air.

Work. Home. Repeat. Nobody gets hurt.

I nod abruptly and throw myself into the tasks for the day while my desperate heart begs me to reconsider.