Love Under Construction (Love By Design Book 1) Page 12

  “No T-shirt?”

  Hunter laughed. “No time to hit the laundry this week. It would seem I’m flipping a house with this girl I happen to know.”

  “And you only have one T-shirt? She must be a real shitty person not paying you enough.”

  “Eh, it’s not always about the money. Let’s just say she keeps me really busy, and I forgot to turn the dryer on before I left this morning.”

  “Mmm. Yeah, about that. I really owe you a huge thank you.”

  “Taylor Jane, put the shirt on and get in bed. Please.” So much for having conversation with his mercurial mood swings. His please sounded weirdly forced, so I went about changing my clothes, pulling things off and stalling when I realized I was changing in the room with Hunter.

  “Right.” Hunter walked around the room to fluff the pillows on the bed and straighten the blankets out.

  Nervous energy filled the space we occupied as he moved around, avoiding me. My own heart was pumping enough blood to make me dizzy. I must really be a hot mess. Shaking it off because Hunter couldn’t possibly be thinking what I was thinking, I turned around and pulled my jeans off so I didn’t have to see myself in the mirror on his dresser. I folded them and placed them back on the top of the dresser. The shirt felt soft, well-worn cotton jean material, but more like flannel.

  “Take off the tank. You’ve got puke on your right side.” He pointed to my chest, and I looked down, observing the mess I’d made of myself. “Uh, right down there.” He pointed again.

  Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “Delightful, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Hunter grunted, and I knew he was undoubtedly grumpy I got puke all over myself or embarrassed myself or any number of foolish things I’d done this evening. I pulled the top off, leaving me in my bra and panties. I looked over my shoulder and sure enough Hunter was facing with his back the other way, not giving me a second look. It was too bad because this set had lace paneling that exposed my butt in a huge lace butterfly. Too pretty to be ignored but he missed out as I changed quickly. I shrugged the shirt on and buttoned it up, dumping my puke shirt on the floor. I’d end up wearing Hunter’s shirt and my skinny jeans home tomorrow and pay him back by doing his laundry. Seemed fair, right?

  I walked over to the bed a little nervous. Hunter and I hadn’t passed out like this since high school and even then no touching had happened. Ever. Friends. That was all we ever were and would be besides remembering prom fondly and the outings with our respective group of friends.

  “Are you going to stand there or get in bed already? I’ve been up since five this morning.” He snapped.

  “Oh, sorry.” Climbing up into Hunter’s bed, it was ridiculously soft and inviting. Shit, maybe I would get drunk more often if it meant getting to sleep in here on his pillow top mattress. My brow furrowed. I didn’t really want the drunk hungover feelings that went with it, so maybe not.

  I lay a bit awkwardly at first, close to the edge of the bed. My mind wandered and circled a bit, seeing this go in a million different directions.

  “You planning on falling to the floor, sweetheart?” Hunter’s voice was muffled by the pillows until his arm snaked around my middle and pulled me back into the center of the bed.

  Ungracefully and bug-eyed in the dark, I let out an Oof!

  “Guess not.” Mumbling face first in a wad of bed sheets, our legs managed to tangle comfortably and my ass rested against Hunter’s crotch. Squeezing my eyes shut, I wondered if that was his belt buckle or his cock resting against me and my damn lace butterfly panties that were ready to fly off at a moment’s notice. Yeah, definitely cock, and my body flushed with an unexpected heat that would melt those mariposa suckers off my ass. I was equal parts turned on and mortified lying in my best friend’s bed, spooning. Yes, it was all gloriously horrifying and sadly plutonic.

  Hunter let his chin rest over my shoulder and his breath came in even beats. I didn’t know he how could manage to remain so unaffected by this… situation here. His arm rested over me and when I wiggled just a smidge to adjust how our… uh… parts in the back were lined up. He squeezed me harder until I stopped moving. Settling in for the night, I realized the jerk was out cold and now I was wide awake, wondering if his hand would drift inappropriately. Would I even object if it did? He made me feel protected, and I realized that any guy before Hunter wasn’t much of a man at all. I fooled around in college. I wasn’t completely innocent, having a worldly experience in the city. I even kissed a girl and learned it wasn’t my thing, but having these burgeoning feelings? Yeah, those confused me.

  “I can hear your brain working. Can you turn that off?” Hunter’s gravelly voice and his breaths pushed my loose hair down over my neck. I guessed he wasn’t sleeping and completely unaffected after all.

  “Duly noted. Since when did you get a king-sized bed in here?” If we were both awake we might as well keep talking. It was years since I’d seen Hunter’s little craftsman style house. Back then he still had the queen-sized bed from his aunt and uncle’s because he was too big for a full bed.

  “The better to keep my harem tied to.”

  I glanced up, in the dark I could make out iron rings attached to his canopy bed posts and wondered if he wasn’t kidding. “Oh.” Disappointed, it wasn’t the answer I’d expected from Hunter.

  “It’s a joke, Taylor Jane, relax.”

  “Ha, I’m laughing all the way to the bank.”

  Hunter slipped his hand over me and tickled a sensitive spot under my arms. “Now you are,” he said, eliciting real laughs at my expense.

  “All right, Uncle! I don’t need to puke in the bed, Hunter.”

  “God, please, no. This thing is an antique.” Maybe that explained the iron rings… for right now, I was going with the antique explanation.

  We both chuckled, and I snuggled more deeply into the bed, a bit more at ease since our banter. This time when I felt Hunter’s erect cock between us it made me giddy and I closed my eyes on a sleepy drunken smile with visions of silk and iron rings dancing in my sated head.

  17

  Hunter

  Those brief years in the Marines taught me many things. One was how to sleep soundly when I could and also to remain as still as possible. Taylor Jane was snuggled up so tight against my dick if she wiggled I was going to blow my load in my jeans like some teenage fool. I’d taken off my belt to sleep, but my dick was straining too tight inside my pants. There was no way she couldn’t know I had a raging hard-on.

  Was sleeping in the same bed with my best friend a good idea? No, of course not, but I was worried she might start coughing or choking if she got sick again. I didn’t think I’d ever seen so much stuff come from one little body. There really wasn’t much hope for it and here we were. I should have thrown a pillow between us, but honestly I craved her next to me like the good old days when we were innocent kids horsing around before the hormones caught up to us ruining everything.

  Part of me was a little curious to see what could happen. Would she turn to me in the night? Drool all over the pillows or notice that I put her nightlight in my bedroom? Taylor Jane’s head was as much of an enigma now as her heart. Since my parents had died and I’d come to live with my cousin, she had been my one and only steady friend. I didn’t add people to my circle willingly; some like Kristen, her brother, Chase, and Whit had forced their way in to stay. I wasn’t willing to lose that over my raging libido.

  It took her some time to settle into my arms and lose the ridged feel of her body. She was tiny resting against me, delicate, but I knew better than anyone that she was a reinforced steel backbone. All these years of friendship and we never talked about her mom’s death, or my parents. Strange to think of it now with her nestled close to my heart, I thought I guarded it well but she proved me wrong, and I supposed it was simply better to let sleeping dogs lie. My plan was to be there for her in whatever way I could. In due time she would either grieve or rage at the world, same as me, and I would let her have her momen
t. Losing parents seemed like the worst kind of connection to share but there it was.

  Sleep of course took me much longer. I thought about everything I could to settle the rising problem inside my jeans I used thoughts of Brittany to simmer me down quick. I guess she served her purpose after all.

  Morning came late for the both of us in the form of Damien texting me.

  Damien: Get up, Cunt-Hunter!

  Hunter: Do we really have to start the morning with that, Damien?

  Damien: You owe me breakfast for babysitting last night.

  Hunter: As if you minded.

  Damien: That girl does not stop complaining.

  Hunter: Which one? Kristen or Brittany?

  Damien: Ha! Ha! Both actually. I’m hungry and you owe me some serious pancakes and bacon.

  Hunter: I think you complain too much and nobody gets compensated for that.

  Damien: How’s your little BFF?

  Of course he was going to ask about her. I carried her out of the party over my shoulder like a caveman trophy.

  Hunter: Taylor Jane is sound asleep. She hurled good last night. She won’t need any yoga for her abs.

  Damien: Good, wake her ass up. She’ll be hangry. Kristen won’t stop badgering me about checking on her cause somebody turned their little phone off...

  Hunter: Please tell me you’re not coming over here with her.

  Damien: Not if you hustle to the precinct, sunshine. See you in 30.

  Hunter: Why are you at the police station?

  I was afraid to ask.

  Damien: The long or short version? And no, I didn’t do anything this time.

  Hunter: Wait, what the fuck?

  I dialed Damien’s number, and he picked up right away. “Tell me why you’re at the police station and it better not be because of some jailbait.”

  “Only if her name is Kristen.”

  “Jesus Christmas, you two are going to be the death of me. Can’t you ever act like adults?” My fingers pressed against the pulsing in my head. Damien was lucky I wasn’t the hungover one. “You know what, never mind.” I’d answered my own question when Taylor Jane moaned into her pillow and I rubbed her back gently. My hand caught in her hair and I rubbed the soft spot where her head and neck connected. “Not you, baby.”

  Her breath muffled between listening to Damien and Kristen argue in the background as he told her to simmer down. It earned him an injury somewhere based on the yell he projected into the phone.

  “Hey, it wasn’t my fault. Ow! Woman! Stop it!”

  I heard more yelling and obviously Damien was fending her off, or attempting to.

  “I find that hard to believe. I leave the two of you alone for one night and… shit, what happened?”

  “Kristen might have gotten apeshit crazy on your ex Brittany. She started talking shit about TJ, and Kristen lost it.”

  My head couldn’t take this level of drama so early in the morning.

  “What did Kristen say?” I hated myself for asking because at this point it didn’t matter what was said.

  “Something to the effect of Brit being the town bicycle and everyone taking a ride on her.” Damien laughed and if I thought about it, it was pretty funny, except I was certain there was an insult in there aimed at me to.

  “Do I need to bring bail money or call her mother?” Mrs. Calloway was a lawyer and on her way to being a local judge. She would be insanely pissed, a likely source for Kristen’s own hot temper. I’d never understand how Kristen was her daughter.

  “Nope, just a ride. That needle-dick cop wouldn’t let me take her home on account of me being a little drunk, so he brought her to the precinct to sleep it off while he worked the desk inside, motherfucker.”

  “You seem bothered by this?”

  “Asshole made me bum a ride to get down here. Let me tell you, Andy is one grumpy dude after he closes the bar and goes to bed.”

  “Huh,” was all I said.

  “Don’t huh me. It’s been a long night.”

  I looked at Taylor Jane, thinking it was a long night, but I wouldn’t have given it up either.

  “Wasn’t she sleeping with the cop, oh, what’s his name?”

  “Stop acting like you don’t know who, and don’t remind me, just pick our asses up.” Damien grumbled.

  “Oh-kay….” Something was definitely bothering Damien because he wasn’t his usual smartass self, but I didn’t have time to get into it with him when Taylor Jane finally stirred next to me.

  My empty stomach curdled at the thought of those two invading my sanctuary with their chaos, but I was hungry for a large greasy meal including pancakes and bacon. My girl let out a little snuffle snort in her sleep, making me feel good about bringing her home to my house to watch over her. She was breathing steady, there was no puke in the bed sheets, and I didn’t die of blue balls last night.

  We survived, barely, but we made it.

  I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Taylor Jane, our favorite person wants to have breakfast at the diner.”

  “Noooooo.”

  “Come on, we have to go pick up their drunk asses at the police station first.”

  “The what? Why? Oh God, my stomach.” She was pathetically adorable and rolled over, bringing her knees to her belly.

  Giving in to temptation, I rolled near her and let my hand slip under the covers to rest on her flat stomach and rubbed it gently.

  “My tummy is not a genie.” Her voice cracked and she turned her head back into the pillow.

  “Grant me three wishes, Miss Bryant.”

  “I don’t want to leave this bed for the foreseeable future.”

  That makes two of us, sweetheart.

  She pushed my hand away and dug her head underneath the pillow, muffling her words.

  “Two?”

  “Go away.”

  “Is that a wish?” If she saw my smirk, I would have gotten a pillow to the face.

  “Ugh.” She moaned.

  “I’m not going anywhere, what about three? You just wasted the first two wishes.” Teasing didn’t go over well.

  “Wait, the police station?” Peeking her head out, hair tangled, I nodded.

  I swore she turned another new shade of green. I was hoping we would be done with the puke by now. Plus she owed me a wish.

  “How do you feel this morning?”

  Leaning over her, I rested my ear next to the pillow to hear her rumble into the bed with sad eyes.

  “Godawful. Better than I deserve.” Her voice was part confession and part lure dragging me stay where we were until the weekend turned to Monday. I’d let the Dynamic Duo rot in the town lockup, but I didn’t want my aunt and uncle getting the call.

  “That’s no way to greet the morning, sunshine. Up and at ’em, lazy bones.” Smiling, I shifted from the bed and slapped her ass playfully.

  Tensing she turned away, eyeballing me and rubbing her behind, showing me more skin and lace than a man needed to see this early in the morning. Especially one that was only her friend, and for a moment I wondered what it would feel like to do that to her in a much more sexually satisfying way. Let my handprint bloom a pink shade on her fair skin, but I dismissed it quickly. I’d never in a million years want to cause her undue pain even for my own desires. I wasn’t really into hardcore shit, but some playful spanking, sure. It was hard to escape some of the hardwiring that made me who I was. Dangerous thoughts swirled in my brain and I dismissed them quickly. It would never work. We would never work. I convince myself of this and knew the first step was getting out of the bedroom and temptation before anything happened.

  “Come on, Taylor Jane.” Gruffly I swallowed down the lump in my throat, her gaze catching me feeling uncomfortable. I shifted my body away from her glare so she couldn’t see the evidence in my sleep worn jeans of just how affected I was. Morning wood could be a real bitch when it was about ten years unrequited.

  “I’m not really that hungry.”

  “I call bullshit. Beside
s, the grease from the griddle will set you right again.” I walked out, leaving Taylor Jane to get dressed as I paced in my kitchen waiting, drinking coffee from my Keurig. She was good about not taking her sweet ass time in the shower and we headed out of the house fifteen minutes later.

  * * * * *

  We exchanged a mutually pained look pulling into the police station. Damien and Kristen were already outside causing a scene, yelling, and the cop on duty, a young guy I didn’t know well returned outside, telling them to knock it off. Luckily it wasn’t Evan Rooney who was on duty at the moment. I jumped out of the truck to break it up, stepping in between them. Kristen ran over to Taylor Jane’s side, opening the door and hopping in.

  “Monkey boy can sit in the back.”

  “Real mature, Calloway!” Damien yelled, and I grabbed his arm, swinging him to face me.

  “Get in the back and don’t taunt her the rest of today.”

  “Hunter….”

  “No, Damien. I’m serious. I do not want to fucking hear it this morning. You make a rude comment or tug on her hair like a fucking twelve-year-old and I will beat your ass myself.” I opened the door and let Damien fold himself up awkwardly to get in the back behind me. Grumbling, he got in the vehicle with minimal protest this time. If my truck didn’t have a super cab I wasn’t sure what I would have done.

  * * * * *

  Sitting down at the big table in the back of our old high school hangout together, our waitress, an elderly lady who had seen better days and cigarettes with less filters, handed us our menus.

  “Hey, kids, looking properly hungover, I see.” Her smoker’s voice echoed on the mirrored diner walls.

  Damien chuckled, and Kristen elbowed him, making room for Taylor Jane to sit next to her. I sat on the other side, completing our foursome.