Tamara Larson - Open House

Lacey turned in his arms to face him. "Jack, as much as I wish we could make that happen. You must know that it'd be a huge mistake to even try. There's a lot at stake here. Your business and your relationship with your family, for one. My emotional trauma if you reject me after we sleep together and I still have to work with you. We have to choose: definite fun now and no house, or house now and the possibility of fun later. I already told you what I want. Now you have to decide what you want." She poked him in the chest for emphasis.

What did he want? If he was smart he'd forget about the stupid house and take Lacey as fast and as hard as he could without appearing like a complete sex maniac. And Lacey wanted that too. So, why was he hesitating? She was offering him exactly what he wanted. No strings sex. A sure thing. And with a woman that made his dick hard and his mood light for a change. It was perfect. And yet he couldn't do it. At some point today, something had changed and he wanted more. He still couldn't see himself in a relationship, but coldly using someone for sex, especially someone like Lacey, seemed empty and a little sad. He didn't want to be that guy. His penis wanted him to be that guy, but Mr. Happy wasn't in charge, at least for now.

And wouldn't she come to regret her decision to sacrifice the cottage eventually? Maybe not tonight, when they were so ridiculously hot for each other. But if the sex ran its course, and they parted ways, what if she was still looking for a place six months from now? How would he feel then if he ran into her at some random Open House and she looked at him reproachfully? He would feel like complete shit.

Bottom line was, he wanted to make her happy. And that meant giving her both a place to live and mind-shattering orgasms. According to her, that was only going to happen if he could wait until her place was complete. But that could take six months. He could not wait that long to get her naked. It was a physical impossibility. Maybe there could be some kind of compromise?

"What, exactly did you have in mind? I mean, if we held off until after the house was complete? Are we talking no physical contact at all, or just not any full-on sex?" Jack asked, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Jack. No. You can't be serious! I can not wait that long to be with you. Let's just forget about the whole house thing." Lacey said, reaching up to slip her arms around his neck. "Let's just drive back to my place, light some candles, and take a bubble bath together instead. Okay?" She got up on her tip-toes and kissed the side of his neck. "Wouldn't that be fun? I've always wanted to do that. My tub is kind of tiny, and you're so big, but if we really squeezed, I'm sure we could make it work. Don't you think?" She said, nibbling her way upto his ear as she rubbed her breasts against his hard chest.

Jack felt his control slipping again as he imagined Lacey, naked, wet and covered in bubbles, her tits bobbing up and down as she rode him hard in her tiny little bath tub. He could have that tonight, probably within the hour, if he just ignored his stupid conscience.

Or better yet, the parking lot was deserted, and all the businesses nearby were closed for the night. If she was into it, he could have her on her hands and knees in the back of the truck in no time at all. That's what he wanted, he wanted it so bad his hands were actually shaking. But if even thinking of allowing her to sacrifice her home made him feel guilty, then how could he live with himself if he actually did become that shady version of himself? The one who who used women and then abandoned them once his needs were met?

"Lace? Seriously. What I want is to make the house happen for you, but I need to know how we can make this work. I don't really see how I can have any contact with you at all and not totally ravish you. So, you need to tell me the ground rules. If it was up to me, we would just screw like bunnies at every opportunity. But since that would probably compromise the project, I need to know what waiting means. If you say no kissing, no touching, nothing physical at all, then I don't think I can do it."

"Jack. I'm sorry, but I think this is an all or nothing proposition. Either we forget about the house or we forget about anything physical between us happening at all. I hate this, but it's just the way it has to be."

"At all? I thought we were just waiting until the cottage was done?"

"Jack, that's months from now. What if that nymphomaniac yoga instructor comes along? Or I meet someone else? Will I still have to have sex with you when the cottage is done?"

"Of course not," Jack growled at this idea.

"So what I'm saying is that we can't promise that we'll still even be interested in each other months from now. What if we work together and discover we can't stand the sight of one another? Or the chemistry fizzles? If I say I will definitely have sex with you when the house is done, doesn't that make me about the most expensive hooker ever? Instead of fifty dollars for a back alley hand-job, I'll get an entire house. But it's basically the same thing, isn't it?"

"It wouldn't be like that at all. We could change our minds at any time. I don't want you to feel obligated to have sex with me. It would totally be up to you."

"But what about you?"

"What about me? I have absolutely no problem with you using both my body and my building skills. In fact, I encourage it."

"No, I mean. Doesn't it make you feel a little dirty, knowing that I'm expecting you to put out when the cottage is complete?"

"Dirty in the best possible way."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Nope. I think we have to re-evaluate when this is over. If we still want each other then, we'll talk about it. Until then, strictly platonic. With no expectations."

Jack was appalled. "And how do you propose we manage that? Are we going to communicate strictly by email and phone? Use Serena to pass notes, like in junior high?Because I don't think I can handle that. I want to see you. A lot. You aren't proposing that we don't even see each other until this is over, are you?"

"No, I don't want that either. How about this? If your brothers agree and the project gets green-lighted, you and I are going to have to get together to go over plans, and choose materials, right?"

"Yeah. Probably a lot at first, after the property is rezoned anyway. I'll have some modified plans drawn up in the mean time."

"Okay, whenever we meet, we'll do it with a lot of people around, so we won't be tempted."

"You can not be serious. We're going to need chaperones? Did I just walk into a Victorian novel?"

"Jack, we don't have to do this. I would much rather get on with the threesome with Mr. Bubbles. You're the one that's insisting that we go ahead with the project. I'm just letting you know the only way that will work."

"But you kissed me. Back at the truck. Why did you do that, if you knew we couldn't couldn't get physical without jeopardizing the project? Maybe if I hadn't tasted you, I could have somehow managed to get through this, blue balls or not. But I can't go back now. Knowing what it's like to touch you, feel you. It will be fucking torture. Or rather, no fucking torture." He was being coarse, he knew it. But he was way beyond being polite.

"For me too. And I'm sorry I kissed you. Well, not really. I loved it. But it definitely will make this harder. Pun intended, by the way. But you looked so sweet, looking out at my possible new address. I was so excited and grateful, I just lost my head for a second. But the second I did it, I made my choice. I knew I couldn't have both, and I chose you. Without hesitation. So, now, for the last time, do we go back to my place and break out the bubbles, or do we build a house?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think we're building a house. Damn it." But he didn't let her go, instead he kissed her, with mind-numbing, nerve-tingling passion. He ate at her mouth, as if trying to imprint his taste and the feel of his lips on her memory.