“I’m coming!”

Unfortunately, it’s not in the way I want to be coming right now.

It’s the doorbell going off for what feels like the millionth time already today, which means the knot in my shoulder is growing bigger and bigger by the minute.

I worried whenever I gave up my company, I would grow bored and feel like I had nothing to do.

That was before Hutch and I decided that building a house would be a good idea. Now, all my days are filled with rounding up construction workers, picking tile, and deciding if I truly cook pasta enough to warrant a pot filler faucet over the stove.

Since Hutch is currently on a “must eat pasta before every game” kick, I think the answer to my latest dilemma has been decided for me.

I push off the counter I’ve been leaning over for the last hour, then close my laptop I’ve been staring at for just as long.

It’s already been a tiring day, and it’s not even time for lunch yet.

Another knock sounds at the door as I make my way to the entrance of the house that’s still wrapped in chaos.

“Coming!” I call out, picking up my speed and trying my absolute best to ignore the mess around me. There are tools strung about, canvas sheets to help collect dust, and a few water bottles here and there because those damn workers never clean up after themselves.

I put blinders on as I stride closer to the door. I wrap my hand around the massive handle, which some might consider gaudy, and tug it open.

“You’re late. You were supposed to—”

The words die on my tongue as I take in the sight before me.

It’s not the landscaper who was supposed to be here an hour ago so we could go over the final design for the backyard.

No. Not even close.

“Hutch,” I whisper, my eyes sliding over him. “You look ridiculous.”

He chuckles. “I’m sure you meant to say hot instead of ridiculous.”

I shake my head, trying my best to hold back the grin threatening my lips. “Definitely not.”

He waves his hand over his frame. “What? Is this look not doing it for you?”

I take in his attire. He’s wearing jeans that mold to his legs, making his thick and perfectly sculpted thighs look ten times better than they already do. A simple white t-shirt clings to him, showcasing the abs I know he’s hiding beneath it. There’s a toolbelt filled with tools I’ve never seen him wield slung loose around his waist. And finally, a bright yellow hard hat sits atop his head.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why, I’m here to work, ma’am. I think we had an appointment scheduled today.”

I fold my arms over my chest, leaning against the doorframe. “I had an appointment with the landscaper today.”

“Knew I should have gone the shirtless route,” he mutters under his breath as he pulls the hard hat off, tossing it onto a stray chair sitting on the porch. He runs his hand through his hair, then gives me a wide grin. “I’m sure you can make some time to squeeze me in. Emphasis on the in part.” He bounces his brows up and down a few times.

I roll my eyes on a laugh. “As fun as that sounds, I have meetings all day. The landscaper is an hour late. Then the tile guy again because he found something he swears we’re going to love. After that, I have a meeting with the decorator to finalize everything. And you are supposed to be doing that thing with Rory and—”

He holds up his hand, halting my words. “It’s all taken care of. I rescheduled your meetings to tomorrow, and Rory has been looped in, given specific instructions not to bother us unless someone is dying.”


He shakes his head, stepping into me and sliding his hands over my face, his thumbs brushing over the apples of my cheek. “No. No arguing. You need a break. You’ve been working too damn hard lately.”

“Because we’re on a time crunch. We’re trying to build a house before the season starts, and that’s coming up quick.”

“I know that, Auden, but you need a break. You—”

“I don’t have time for a break,” I whine.

Hutch’s lips pull into a soft smile. “Sweetheart, you do. And I have a feeling I know just the way to convince you to take one.”

Without warning, he bends, hooking his hands under my ass and lifting me into his arms.

“Hutch!” I call out on a squeal as he carries me through the house in rushed steps. He doesn’t stop until we’re in the kitchen, where he drops me onto our new marble countertop.

“What are you doing?” I ask, but it’s pointless. He’s clearly a man on a mission, dropping his lips to my neck in an instant, kissing me and nipping at me so eagerly it has me squirming against the counter in seconds flat.

He peppers kisses across every inch of my jaw, down my throat, and as far south as he can go with my shirt in the way. Then he retraces his steps, kissing me until I’m a panting mess, needing to be touched in any other way.

He must read my mind because suddenly he pulls away, a cool air hitting me the second I lose his touch, and Hutch is dropping to his knees, that ridiculous tool belt he’s wearing clanking as he does so.

He slides his hands around my calves, running them higher and higher and higher, taking the knee-length skirt I’m wearing right along with him and not stopping until it’s bunch around my thighs.

“Up,” he instructs, and I know instantly what he means.

I lift myself off the counter just enough to allow him to push the material up. I gasp when my bare legs hit the cold counter, and he chuckles, leaning forward to torture me with his mouth more as he begins to kiss my inner thighs.

For hours…days…he kisses me. Soft and sweet and right up to just where I want him, only for him to retreat and start over. He torments me repeatedly until I know there is no way he doesn’t see the wet spot on my gray panties.

“You’re being mean.”

“You like it,” he counters, yet doesn’t give in.

Instead, he continues kissing me for several more agonizing minutes until finally—fucking finally­—he presses a soft kiss to my still panty-covered pussy.

And barrier or not, I swear I feel it down to my soul.

“Reed,” I moan out his name. “More.”

He laughs against me, the vibrations zinging through me and to my toes, dragging my orgasm closer and closer.

It’s incredible how he can still bring me to the brink of combustion so easily after two years together.

And wildly unfair because he knows exactly what he’s doing.

He drags his hand up my leg, pushing my thighs farther apart to the point it’s almost painful, then uses a single finger to push back my panties, exposing me to him.

He sits back, his eyes never leaving the place he loves to spend his time. He drags his tongue over his bottom lip, taking me in with hungry eyes, and I love every second of it.

He looks like he wants to devour me, and it just so happens that’s exactly what I want too.

“Please…” I beg on a whisper.

He tears his gaze from my drenched pussy and up, up, up until he’s staring right into my eyes.


“I did.”

He shakes his head slowly, brushing his thumb gently over my clit. “Not properly.”

“Please…” I whimper. “I need…”

“What, sweetheart? What do you need?” His voice is gruff as if he hasn’t talked in days instead of only seconds.

“Taste me, Reed. Please.

He heeds my request, running his tongue over me with such slow, delicious precision I could cry.

And that’s exactly what I feel like doing when suddenly he shoves to his feet.

“No, no, no. What are—”

My words are cut off when he captures my mouth in a rough kiss. He wrenches his lips from mine only seconds later, peering down at me with a hard and heated stare.

“Turn over. Hands on the counter, Auden.”

I don’t hesitate to listen, dropping from my perch and spinning around, loving when he pushes me down until the cool countertop rests against my cheek.

Hutch is behind me, already pulling my underwear down my ass and exposing every inch of me to him.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before landing a hard smack on my exposed cheeks.

“Oh god.” I groan, shoving back because I want more. I need more. “Hutch…”

“Going to fuck you so good,” he tells me, and I have no doubt he means the words.

I hear him moving behind me, and then that ridiculous toolbelt hits the floor, and all I can think about is how good he’s going to feel sliding inside of me.

I don’t have to wait much longer because the next thing I hear is his zipper being tugged down, and suddenly, he’s right there, pressing against my pussy and begging for entrance.

I push back, searching for him, and he laughs at my impatience.

“So needy.”

“Your fault,” I bite out.

“I’m not hearing any complaints.”

“The only complaint I have is that your cock isn’t inside me right now.”

Another rumbling laugh. “I think we can fix that.”

Then slowly—so fucking slowly—he pushes inside me inch by torturous inch. I hate it because it’s not enough, and I love it because it’s just how I want it.

I’m such a conflicted mess of emotions as he finally bottoms out inside of me.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “This never gets old.”

“Never,” I echo. “Now fuck me, Hutch. Please.

This time, there’s no teasing. He pulls out until just the head of cock sits inside me, then slams back in with full force, and it’s everything I didn’t know I’d been missing.

Hutch is right. I needed this more than I realized.

He finds a rhythm that works for us both and doesn’t stop, thrusting into me over and over until we’re sweaty messes. Our grunts and groans echo off the still-empty walls, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“God, I wish you could see this,” he tells me, still pumping into me. “Wish you could see how you look taking my cock right now. So fucking good.”

“I’m so close,” I tell him.

“Me too,” he says, then slides his hand around my waist, dipping his fingers between my legs. He strokes over my clit with a deftness he’s perfected in the time we’ve been together, playing me like his favorite instrument until my orgasm slams into me with such force that tears spring to my eyes.

“Holy mother of… Yes, yes, yes,” I chant as he slams into me, my orgasm still rocking through me with every punishing thrust.

Less than a minute later, Hutch comes with a shout, spilling himself inside me and filling me up with his cum.

When he finally stills, he’s breathing hard, folding himself over me and kissing a path down my back.

It’s only then I realize I’m still fully dressed, and so is he, and it makes this mid-morning tryst all that more exciting.

I have no clue how much time passes before he slowly slides out of me, then steps away, pulling my skirt back down to cover me like his cum isn’t currently running down the inside of my thighs.

My body is achy as I push off the counter and turn into Hutch’s embrace, loving how he captures my lips with his instantly. He kisses me softly and sweetly, like he didn’t just fuck me hard and harsh.

He grins down at me when he finally drags his mouth from mine.

“Now tell me that break wasn’t worth it.”

I lift a shoulder. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” he practically growls, and I laugh.

“Maybe a little more than fine.”

“Auden…” he warns, his eyes darkening.

But I’m not scared. Not with Hutch. Never with Hutch.

Because not only has he kept his promise to give me a life I won’t regret, to love me unconditionally, and to make me the happiest he can every day, but he’s done so much more than that.

He’s given me a new family, new friends, and a renewed sense of adventure. He’s given me endless laughter and much more fun than I could have imagined.

He’s given me roots.

And most important, he’s given me him—fully and forever.

Hutch grabs my left hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses a soft kiss against the simple gold band that circles my finger.

“I love you, Auden.”

“I love you more, Reed.”

He shakes his head. “Impossible.”

And maybe…just maybe…he’s right about that.

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