Love Shack (Tiny Houses, Big Hearts) (9 page)

He lowered the waist band and gripped his shaft. Oh, he needed this. All the stress, and all the tension that had built up had him on such an edge that he needed to come like he needed air. He’d either need to masturbate, or he’d destroy his liver draining Felicity’s wine stash.

Brandon had just woken up to a soft bodied woman, who obviously didn’t wear a bra in bed. His head might be a mess, but his cock knew damn well what was needed. Brandon went for efficiency. He flattened his palm against his hip and looped a finger under his sac, putting pressure against his prostate. He stroked in hard fast motions and all the tension in his body centered around that grip.

The shower was quiet compared to the rush of blood flooding his dick. He wasn’t sure it could get any harder, but it swelled against his palm.

Usually, he had a favorite ex-girlfriend’s image to help him through a fantasy. This time…he just had a need. He needed to be touched. He needed the sensation. He needed to come.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so fired up. He stroked and pressed. His breaths turned shallow.

“I’m all done in the shower. There’s not much hot water left. Maybe I should have asked you to join me,” she said with a laugh.

The image of both him and Felicity naked and wet and pressed tight against each other in the tiny shower blew apart his efficiency. The thought of pressing her against the tiny glass tiles in the shower as water ran down her round ass popped in to replace his ex. The idea of grabbing onto her braids and forcing her head up… Forcing her to gasp… Growling himself as her back arched and how it would feel to plunge inside of her… He came undone. Before he could stop himself, hot heavy spurts blasted across his stomach.

Felicity was cracking up at her own joke, and the fact that Brandon would have to take a cold shower. In reality, he needed the coldest shower he could stand.

He’d just fantasized about the lady who wanted the world to live in shacks.

Chapter Fifteen

Felicity adjusted the towel over her head. Normally, she’d put it back and let her hair whip around as she danced to some music to help it dry. Today, she didn’t feel like dancing. She felt drained.

Yesterday had been a roller coaster that had ended with a lot of alcohol. She loved a glass of wine at the end of the day while she read a good book on her e-reader, but she’d had more than her usual share as she’d entertained her guest.

Her guest who slept in her bed. Her guest who didn’t wear a shirt. That guest didn’t do much to make her home feel cozy. Even her skin felt confining and tight with him around. He was a materialistic ass, but his actual ass was really nice to look at.

Felicity eyed the bottles of wine. She should have grabbed something stronger, and she could have used a little hair of the dog to work out her hangover. Wine wouldn’t have her praying to the porcelain god, but her stomach was turning at the thought of the coffee that was necessary for her to not destroy people with her bare hands.

She slid out a slim spice rack. All the way in back sat a big bottle of ibuprofen. Felicity downed two tablets. The sun began to shine through her curtains as it made its way higher in the sky. She swallowed two more pills before she tucked the bottle back into the cabinet.

The thumping around let her know her guest was making his way out of the bedroom. If it was possible, he looked even better in the morning. His hair was rumpled, there were some creases in his pajama pants in very eye-catching places, and it almost looked like his skin was rosier.

“I’m going to hop in the shower,” he said.

She grabbed his arm to stop him. His arm with big flexy biceps.
Oh boy.
“Wait, the water heater is only big enough for me. How about I make us some coffee first?”

“I’m good with cold. I’ll have the coffee to warm back up.”

He didn’t look like the type of guy to rough it at anything, but sure enough, he made his way into the shower and she heard him suck in a breath as he pushed the flow through the showerhead.

Chapter Sixteen

His lips might have turned blue, but he at least lost his erection. He was surprised it took as long as it did, considering she was right and the water was damn near ice from the moment he stepped under the stream.

The shower was small, but he could fit in it. The basin was recessed, so it was actually tall enough for him to get under the water comfortably. He couldn’t even get that in his own home.

He found the towel on the other side of the curtain. His roommate had one wrapped around her head, so he assumed the one left was for him. From what he’d learned about how she lived, if she didn’t need it, she probably wouldn’t have it in the house.

The thought of climbing into the bed area in a towel was not appealing. He’d need to remember to bring his clothes with him next time. There was also a lot of planning ahead in this tiny house living. Brandon left his boxer briefs off, because after his little stress reliever in the bed, he wasn’t going to put them back on. He pulled on his pajama pants and wrapped the towel around his shoulders.

When he stepped out, he saw Felicity making coffee like she seemed to do everything else. She was dancing to music.

“You are way too cheery for the morning.”

“I should be cheery. I have a press junket set up by Debbie. She has a bunch of reporters, television
and
newspaper, showing up at her news station just to do an interview with me.” She took a shaky breath. “And I have to be upbeat, so there’s no better way to do that than with music.”

Felicity spun as she lifted a small coffee grinder in the air and turned it on. The smell of freshly ground beans distracted him. He was almost able to ignore the way she shook her hair when taking it out of the towel. He always ground his own beans and found himself grateful for one small part of his morning he could keep.

“When do we have to be there?”

Felicity stopped the grinder and poured the grounds into a paper filter on top of what looked to be a glass beaker. “Oh,” she said as she put more beans into the grinder. “Did you want to come with me?”

Brandon had to remind himself that he didn’t want to be in front of a camera. He had to remind himself that he wanted to be anywhere but in the spotlight with this.

He reminded himself of all these things even as his mouth said, “Well, I would think they would want to know how our first night went from my point of view.”

She smiled. “They might not be interviewing you. Most of these spots are about tiny house living. Being that you were only here one night, what would you have to tell them that I don’t know?”

“I could tell them you snore,” he grumbled.

She gasped. “I do
not
.”

Brandon looked around her adorably indignant pose and saw that a whole tablespoon of coffee had brewed. “Are we going to have coffee before lunch?”

She smiled. “I figured you’d be impatient. So I got this.”

Out of a pocket from what looked to be a curtain, she pulled out a giant syringe.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“I’m going to make sure you get your coffee.”

“I don’t want an enema.”

She laughed. “Just watch.”

In only a couple minutes, she had done some kind of magic that made him a cup of coffee from the giant tube. After his coffee was steaming in the cup, she discarded the grounds into a bucket outside of the window.

He sniffed it. Surely it couldn’t taste as good as a properly brewed drink.

“Did you need any sugar or milk?” She grabbed a few containers from the counter and her tiny refrigerator.

“That depends on what this tastes like.”

Leaning over the small table, she placed her hands on either side of the cup. The liquid inside wobbled and he held the mug tighter. He wasn’t going to spill it and have to wait for the hour long coffee dripper behind her.

He looked up once he realized his caffeine was safe only to discover he hadn’t taken a cold
enough
shower. She had on a tank top that gaped at the perfect angle to give him a glimpse of her purple lace bra. He tried to drag his gaze out of her cleavage, but it took all of his brain power to listen to her and respond.

“When you get your coffee, how do you take it normally?”

“When I make my own, black. When I get it from a restaurant, I candy it up with milk and sugar,” he told her cleavage.

“Well, if you like good coffee, you’ll take this black.”

She stood up and he refocused his eyes. She was waving for him to try it. He really hoped the filter she used on the device wasn’t some kind of recycling project. If this tasted like reused toilet paper, he was quitting life.

Then he sipped the coffee. His eyes bulged. Then he took as big a drink of the hot brew as his mouth could handle.

“What
is
this?”

“It’s a small roasting company I order from. This is their whiskey barrel aged blend. I was lucky enough to get the latest batch. They usually sell out of it super fast. I camped out in my house where my Wi-Fi is good and waited to get it.”

“There is no bitter back end, and the flavor is incredible.” It was so good he actually forgot about her purple lace bra for a moment.

He was almost finished with his cup when she took the filter out of her science experiment of a coffee canter.

She joined him, and he debated trying the syringe setup to have a second cup. They sat at the table for a moment in silence. Brandon always loved having the quiet of the morning with a good cup of coffee in hand.

It was yet another thing that he realized he valued, and he enjoyed the experience just as much sitting in companionable silence here. He was thinking about it as his hostess pulled his cup from his hand and proceeded to refill it.

“I’ll show you how to make your own, later. Debbie told me I have to wear makeup to this thing, so I need to take my time and put it on.” She swallowed the last of her coffee.

Brandon watched as she rinsed her cup, then washed it and placed it in a slotted rack over the sink to dry. He did the same thing at home. He hated dirty dishes.

He sat in silence as she went to the bathroom and he heard her moving different things around the sink. She cussed a few times, then more clattering.

He finished his second cup, and was contemplating trying his hand at the coffee making process, but if he screwed it up, throwing away such good beans would be a crime.

“Could you give me the name of the roasting house you order from?” he called. “I have got to get myself some of this when I go back home…”

He realized he still had twenty-nine days to stay in her house. Maybe he would order her some and order extras to keep for himself. Who needed sleep when you had coffee like this?

“I’ll text you the link later. I think I’ve still got a coupon code for free shipping too,” she called from the bathroom.

Brandon would have some shipped as soon as he was done here. This was one part of tiny house living he could get used to.

Felicity cleared her throat. “So…what do you think?”

He had been making notes on his phone, and hadn’t seen her step out of the bathroom.

Some people cleaned up okay. Some people put on so much makeup or hair products that they didn’t even look like themselves. But even the bright morning light was kind to his housemate. Felicity had an iridescent glow around her cheekbones, a golden haze over her eyes, which looked even bigger with the goop women smeared on their lashes. She looked simply angelic.

“You look beautiful.”

She smiled.

“Except for the lipstick on your teeth.”

She cursed some more and went back into the bathroom.

Brandon reached around behind her to hang up his towel to dry in the bathroom. With his boxers in his pocket, he went up the stairs to the bedroom. It only took him a second to realize, no, he couldn’t get dressed up here.

“Where do you want me to put my dirty clothes?” he asked on his way to the bathroom.

“Is everything you have washable?”

He nodded. “I just brought the basics with me. The only things that can’t be washed are the suits I hung up last night.”

“Then you can just throw them in here.”

She pulled out a large drawer from the wall and he saw a pink lace bra inside that he threw his boxers on top of.

“Does everything in this house come out of the wall?” he asked.

“As much as possible. It gives me more living space.”

He went to change. He put on a button up shirt and shaved in her tiny rectangle sink. He was going with her to the interviews. Even if he served no purpose, there wasn’t enough “living space” in this house to keep him from going stir crazy. He made a promise to himself to get out whenever he could.

Chapter Seventeen

At least she hadn’t stared at his penis the
whole
time.

Felicity looked into the reflection on her stainless steel refrigerator and pulled her hair back before letting it fall forward again in defeat. Maybe there was a reason Debbie wore her hair so severely tamed. She got respect. Felicity sure could use some of that.