Head over Heels: A Single Dad Romance(15)

Without uttering a word, I pointed at the sink and then at the valve and then straight at him. "I asked you," was all I could manage to spit out.

He was immovable, the perfect picture of finely carved marble authority. I may have seen him dip his steely eyes once or twice to scan my breasts, but he otherwise held still while the water sputtered around us.

Michael's jaw twitched a second before he yelled, "well, why didn't you turn off the water?"

"It's stuck!" I almost screamed in frustration and could feel my anger going postal.

The tantrum that followed went something along the lines of, "Let me show you how to do it," to which I vaguely remember responding with, "where have I heard that before," and then he was hoisting himself under the sink.

I can still remember his snarky comment, "how hard could it be?" and my, "not very," when the valve gave a loud squeal. With the water no longer soaking us, Michael jumped up from the floor and turned to me.

In unison, we pointed to the parlor and shouted, "What is all that shit!"

"Why did you get cheap countertops," I complained.

"I didn't get any countertops," he yelled back, "why did you get all that lumber?"

"Why would I get lumber?" I yelled back and watched his face soften as the realization hit.

"Damn it, Andrew!" he yelled at the ceiling.

"Andrew," I questioned, "who is he?"

Michael let out a frustrated sigh, "He's an old friend." I could tell he was weighing his words carefully, "I told him about the house and he wanted to help out."

"So, he just filled the house with… stuff?"

"Well, he called when I was in the woods," he paused and a pained look crossed his face. "The reception was spotty, and I think I may have agreed to this."

So, that explains why he didn't call me when he was away. I looked up at his frustrated growl and all I could do was stare at the rock hard abs peeking out from under his untucked plaid shirt.

He was leaning back, his body bowed in a delicious release with his happy trail in full view of my hungry eyes. I had visions of my fingers wandering down his chiseled body and disappearing beneath the waistband of his low-slung cargo shorts. I swear I think I sighed.

Michael finished his stretch and surveyed the water drenched floor. I felt the heat from his gaze slide up my legs, and I blushed when he paused to examine the spot where my shorts crested between my thighs. A seductive smile crossed his face when he reached my damp blouse, and his eyes quickly darted between the swell of my breasts. I imagine he was enjoying the view of my lacy red bra peeking through the now transparent cotton, and I was torn between using my hands to cover myself, or sticking my chest out further.

I tried to stay calm, but the woman inside of me was clamoring for his attention. After the disastrous week I had just experienced, I was ready to give in to her.

He lifted his eyes to meet mine, and I was transfixed under the weight of his sultry brown eyes. Yes, he was obviously appreciating the view before him.

Michael shoved his hands in his pocket as he continued his visual examination of my body. I melted under his gaze and quickly realized the dampness between my thighs had nothing to do with the wet clothes clinging to my body. I licked my lips and tried to drag my thoughts away from ripping off his clothes and riding him into next week.

Michael looked me up and down and I hoped that any minute he would take pity on me and fix the water leak - or ravage me against the laminate countertops. Heat poured through my veins and I wondered what was wrong with me. Who cared about the water?

I was so focused on his eyes as they moved down lower to focus on the cleft between my breasts that I almost missed the bulge in his pants.

When he moved toward me I held my breath in anticipation. Could this really be happening? Could my horrible weekend finally be turning around? More importantly, was being ravaged against the laminate countertops back on the table?

Our eyes locked and I was rooted to the spot. I let out a long slow breath as he came to rest before me. The scent of his spicy aftershave invaded my senses in the most glorious way.

"So," he teased, "do you still want me to fix the water leak?" The corner of his mouth went up in a slight smile and my insides flip-flopped.

"I would be very… grateful," I volleyed back, desperately hoping he wouldn't take me up on it.

"I think I would enjoy your…" he paused and let out a chuckle, "… gratitude." He was clearly now enjoying the situation.

"Well," I squeaked. My heart thudded painfully in my chest at where this was going and hoped that we wouldn't get interrupted again. "That seems like an awful lot of gratitude for one little job," I demurred. I wondered if Michael would falter, but a sly grin split his face instead.

His palm came to rest against my back and his warmth radiated through my damp blouse. A wicked grin split his face as he leaned over and whispered into my ear, "so, do we have a deal?"

He buried his head in my neck and his hot breath sent a fire through me. I agreed just seconds before his lips claimed mine.

His mouth was hot and demanding, erasing the memory of everything that came before. My lips parted before he even asked, and he dove in without hesitation. It felt wild and I could tell he shared the wonton desire the bubbled inside of me. The need to be with him blotted out everything else.