Page 261 of Damaged Mogul
I’m ready to get down and dirty.
Scooping down to grab the toolbox I knew would be waiting for me, I set off on my mission.
Show time.
I trail to the front door of the house and ring the bell.
The door flies open.
Fuck.
Two weeks away from her was bone-cutting agony.
“Good evening, Mrs. Robinson.” My eyes drop to Lily’s pouty lips painted in a vibrant hot pink shade. “You called about a problem with your pipes.”
Lily’s lips quiver, but she catches herself. “Good evening, Sawyer. I’m so grateful you were able to make a late-night call. Few plumbers are willing to be accommodating on a Saturday night. To answer your question, yes, it’s about my pipes.”
“I gather it’s a different problem than the last time I was here?”
“These things are way over my head.” She points a manicured finger at me. “You’re the expert.”
“Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
She steps to the side. “Please come in.”
She locks the door. “If you’ll follow me.”
“I’m right behind ya, ma’am.”
My eyes are on her fine ass as she sashays in front of me.
She was sexy as fuck from the first day I met her, but now, her round ass, heavy tits, and wider hips make my mouth water.
She stops near the faucet. “This is the bane of my existence.” She points at the offensive object.
I drop my toolbox on the floor. “I’m sure I can take care of it.”
She gives me a onceover. “I’m sure you’re acapableman.”
More than you know.
“I got home not long ago,” she says. “While you do your thing, I hope you don’t mind if I change into something a little more comfortable.”
I take in her sexy little body draped in a white formfitting dress that hits her several inches above the ankle and the heels that match her kissable lips. The fabric clings to her body and around her growing belly.
She radiates.
My desire—and love—for her is pounding through me so hard that my cock throbs in time with it. I’m this close from dropping to my knees, shoving up the skirt of her dress, and putting an end to this role-playing.
Patience.
“Make yourself as comfortable as you want.” I shrug. “It’s your house.”
“Can I offer you anything to drink? Juice? Soft drink? A beer? Unless you prefer something stronger?”
“Thanks, little lady, but I don’t drink on the job.”
“Water, perhaps?”
