Nailed to the Wall: Powertools, Book 5 (6 page)

Mike shuddered but nodded. “Fine. But I think I need you to make the call. Otherwise, I’ll probably turn chickenshit again.”

“No problem.” She squeezed his hand, surprised by how sweaty yet icy it was. “Everyone’s afraid of something, Mike.”

“I guess.” He wiped his palms on his jeans. “Thanks for noticing and for offering to hold my hand. Even though it’ll be gross and slimy then too.”

“What’s the point of being a team if we don’t each bring something to the game?” She smiled softly. “You’re welcome.”

“Joe?” Morgan sat up. She thought she’d heard a rattle from the general direction of the bathroom. Dusk permitted her a shadowy glimpse into the space adjoining their bedroom. “Everything okay?”

She didn’t remember much of the ride home from Kayla and Dave’s house this afternoon. She’d conked out before they’d emerged from the woods surrounding the resort’s long, winding driveway. Head still pounding from the night before and their wild romp—though she wouldn’t have missed out on that for the world—she’d surrendered to the utter relaxation suffusing her at having her man by her side again. Not to mention the boneless state their group session had put her in.

Grateful for the stress reduction, she’d embraced the floating sensation and let Joe’s crooning duets with his favorite, Michael Bublé, via the streaming radio on his smartphone lull her into oblivion. A vague memory of him carrying her up the stairs to their apartment over the bakery, tucking her into their bed, inflated her heart to greater proportions.

The pressure had her chest aching when she remembered the bad news she had to tell him. No more excuses. It wasn’t right to let him hang on to false hope.

Vile cursing followed a second, louder metallic clank.

She padded to the doorway, leaned on the jamb and admired the muscles in her husband’s bare shoulders. They bunched and stretched from his place beside the toilet. He’d removed the lid of the tank to fiddle with something inside. He shook his hand, then mummified it in toilet paper. If she had to guess, she’d say he stanched blood welling from yet another gouge in his poor, battered fingers.

“What’s up?”

“Damn. Tried not to wake you. Sorry.” He swiped a bead of sweat from his brow with the side of his forearm. The motion left a grease streak that only enhanced his rugged charm. A spike of his golden hair stuck to the stain. “Thought I’d install the new valve and flange I picked up for this guy so it’ll stop running in the middle of the night.”

“Thanks, you know that drives me bonkers. Hate to waste water.” Morgan frowned.

“Yeah, your Mother Earth act is cute even when it’s a royal pain in the ass.” Joe didn’t flinch when she smacked his shoulder playfully.

“Hey, what’s that?” She leaned in for a closer look, then clapped her hands. “You found a handle to match the sink hardware?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise.” He grimaced. “I almost finished. But my hand slipped and I busted my knuckles on the nut. Hurt like a motherfucker.”

“That’s what
he
said,” Morgan muttered under her breath.

“What?” Joe cocked his head.

“Nothing. Sorry. Kayla’s a bad influence.” She returned her attention to the vintage blue and white porcelain handle, admiring the intricate floral pattern all over again. Gorgeous. Classic. It matched the sink set she’d picked up at one of the antique malls she frequented with Kate. The embellishment couldn’t have been easy to find. God only knew how many specialty websites he’d surfed or stores he’d called. What other man would pay attention to such a tiny detail?

“You like it?”

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” She looked up, admiring his bare chest and feet. She kissed his cheek, then daubed the perspiration trickling from his temple to his jaw with the tail of the long shirt he must have changed her into. “Your surprises will never get old.”

“Even when they cut your nap short?” Joe finished tinkering with the guts of the tank, replaced the lid and waved to the handle. “Do the honors. Give it a test flush.”

She did, raving over his upgrades.

“Thank you, thank you.” He issued her a mock bow as he climbed to his feet. Suddenly the bathroom seemed to shrink. His heat and powerful build filled the space.

“And yes, being woken up is well worth it when it means a man as sexy as you is on his knees, servicing my appliances.”

He leveled a searing stare in her direction.

Her legs went weak.

Joe scanned her from her tousled hair to the wrinkled flannel shirt she’d filched from his drawer and worn each night he was absent. He licked his lips.

“I don’t think my wife would appreciate the way you’re staring at me, ma’am.” He returned her grin with interest.

Had any man ever been as fine as him? Playful yet smoking hot, he turned her insides as mushy as the fruit she’d macerated for the filling in tomorrow’s daily special—a mixed berry pie.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll make you forget all about her.” Morgan stalked the step or two to Joe, employing her best imitation of a sultry swagger. She ran the tip of one finger from the hollow of his neck through the smattering of his light chest hair, along the valley separating his rock-hard abs. When she landed on the waistband of his jeans, she skimmed his trim sides until she slipped her hands into his back pockets.

A double handful of his tight ass acted as a convenient grip to tug him closer. The ridge of his cock pressed into her belly. He stiffened a little, putting her at arm’s length so he could stare point-blank into her eyes.

“You didn’t answer my question, cupcake.” He wiped his hands on his denim-clad thighs before he traced the dark circles beneath her eyes with his thumbs. “You were out like a light. Tired for a reason?”

She stared at the black and white tiled floor he’d installed last summer until he lifted her chin with one of his bandage-free knuckles.

“Morgan?”

“I got my period the morning you left. It was a false alarm.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shush.” He rubbed her lower back with his undamaged hand, which nearly spanned her waist, and kissed her nose. “Nothing to apologize for. I should have been here. I knew you were late… Hoping…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say so right away. I couldn’t stand to disappoint you again.” She rested her head on his shoulder. Maybe he’d think the moisture tracking down his chest was the result of a few more droplets of sweat instead of the tears she shed.

“Never.” He hugged her tight.

“And then last night, I got drunk. Really hammered.” She hiccupped. So much for stealth weeping. “I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. You know, like then it would be real. I had to forget about it for a while and I knew it was safe. I passed out because I was hungover, not because I’m pregnant. So sorry.”

“Ah, honey, you should have called me home.” He rocked her against his chest.

“Why?” She sighed. “Nothing you could do.”

“You never have to suffer alone.” He finger-combed her hair. “Seriously, Morgan, that’s a major benefit of our crew. I’m sure they’ll look after you if I can’t for some reason. It’s one of the things that makes me comfortable leaving. Why didn’t you confide in Dev, Kate and Kayla? They would have been there for you.”

“I know. I almost did last night. Then Kate told us that her and Mike are trying too.”

“He mentioned it to us on the trip.” Joe nodded.

“Well, you know how much trouble Kate’s sister had. Another rocky experience wasn’t what she needed to hear about.” Morgan clung to her husband, so glad to have him home, here, in her arms. “Psyching her out isn’t going to help.”

“Maybe you need to take your own advice, Mo.” He made a circuit up her spine, then down her sides with his sure fingers. “Getting upset isn’t going to help matters. A bunch of the books we read said it’s normal for it to take up to a year of trying. Let’s enjoy each other. The rest will take care of itself.”

“You’re right.” She drew a deep breath, then blurted, “But I think we should make an appointment to have some tests done. Fertility and genetics stuff.”

“Okay, sure.” He rubbed their noses together. “Probably not a bad idea in any case.”

“You
hate
the doctor. Sor—”

“Don’t you dare apologize again. I’d do anything for you.” He kissed her long and slow until her toes curled in the bathmat and ten tons lifted off her shoulders. “I’d hope you’d understand that by now. Fucking
anything
to make you smile.”

“No one does that as well as you.” She encircled his waist with her arms and nuzzled her cheek against the hard planes of his chest. “I love you, Joe.”

“Same goes.” He ruffled her hair.

“So, how about we take a shower together and practice, huh?” She nipped his pec. “Another week or so and we’ll be in primetime again.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He stared into her eyes with more seriousness than she could ever remember.

“You want to give up already? I can handle this. I thought—”

“I meant the wasted water.” He covered her mouth with a searing kiss. After nibbling on her bottom lip, he retreated with a smirk. “This could be an awfully long shower if we do it right.”

“Some things are worth the sacrifice.” Morgan reached in to flip on the spray. “Oh my God. You found matching shower fixtures, too?”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “They never produced them compatible with this type of plumbing.”

“Then how?” She stared at him like he was her hero, because he was.

“My cousin Eli has some fabrication connections for the parts they use in fixing up classic cars.” He grinned. “Probably the first time he’s asked them to make shower handles and toilet hardware instead. Those bastards had a field day ripping on me.”

“You really are full of surprises.” She knelt before him to tear open his button fly.

His jeans pooled on the floor, and he stepped out of them, leaving his lanky frame nude. She couldn’t stop herself from touching him. Her fingers explored his furry thighs before they wrapped around the base of his shaft, stroking him the few times it took to transform his cock from semi-hard to steely.

Morgan rubbed the head of his erection across her lips, then licked the slippery fluid from them while staring up into Joe’s eyes. Could he read her devotion in the artless stare?
 

“Enough, I’d like to last more than three minutes.”

She grinned. “I’m sure you can hold out for five at least. Just give me a taste.”

Joe’s hands cupped her face and guided her toward his cock. She parted her lips.

Drawing him inside, she traced every line and ridge of his shaft with the tip of her tongue. When she hit the spot on the underside that drove him bananas, he growled.

Joe reached beneath her arms to lift her. She hitched one thigh over his hip. He boosted her with a palm on her ass, allowing her to wrap her other leg tight around his waist. They made out while the water warmed.

After minutes of foreplay more delicious than the chocolate mousse cake she’d baked last week, steam billowed around them. She leaned back a bit to flick the buttons of Joe’s borrowed shirt open one at a time, revealing herself to him inch by inch. Never before had she had so much self-confidence in her figure.

The hunger in his eyes never lied, though. He craved her as much as she did him. Something she would never stop being thankful for.

She tossed the well-worn flannel into the white wicker hamper. No need for that with him around to keep her toasty.

They groaned in unison when their bare chests met.

Joe shimmied against her, teasing her breasts with his pecs. As if he knew it would leave her breathless, he repeated the sinuous caress before she could beg for more. All the while his cock prodded her clit, poising her on the verge of climax before they’d truly gotten started.

They didn’t pause their slow grind when he stepped into the enclosure. Gentle trickles from the rain shower showerhead cascaded over them.

Ever thoughtful, he angled the spray against the tile for a bit before pressing her to the heated surface. “I know I had you earlier, but I swear I’m about to explode all over you.”

“I thought the idea was to come inside me. Again and again.” She nipped his neck. “I’m no expert at this baby-making stuff, but I’m pretty sure that’s how it works.”

“Wench.” He ripped the toilet paper from his hand and tossed it toward the trash. The slap he landed on the side of her wet ass with his now-bare palm reverberated off the tile surround.

“Come on, Joe.” She wriggled, attempting to notch his cock in the opening of her pussy. “Fuck me.”

Joe pinned her with his shoulders so he could wedge his hand between them. Pressing his cock down with two fingers on top of the shaft, he aimed the swollen purple head between her thighs. Slippery. He glided through her slit, coating himself with her arousal. Every pass poked her clit with the blunt cap of his erection.

She shivered.

“You’re ready.” He murmured into her neck, licking and nipping as he pressed against her, letting gravity do some of the work. She slid down, hugging the first couple inches of his cock even as he stretched her. No matter how many times they did this, he altered her, forcing her body to accommodate his.