"Keep your voice down," Zach hissed forcefully. "You'll wake her up...if you haven't already."
He was fighting a losing battle to calm down the naked blonde. Everything had been going perfectly until she started in on Jamey again. He wished he could turn the clock back about twenty minutes, when they were still chest deep in his swimming pool, her lithe legs encircling him while he lifted and plunged her onto his rigid cock, guiding her slight weight with broad hands over her petite round ass. When he looked at those long, shapely dancer's legs and carefully barbered landing strip adorning her pussy, he just wanted to crawl right back between them.
"...the fuck do I care?" Tina shot back. "Besides, you know damn well she's wide awake...up there listening to us fuck. And getting off on it, too."
"Jesus, Tina, what a nasty thing to say. And she can probably hear you."
"I don't give a shit," Tina fumed. Her heavy round breasts quivered as she stood knee-deep, jabbing her finger at the air like a steak knife. Her voice grew louder and more strained with every point. At least there were no neighbors close enough to disturb. "Maybe she should hear this. Maybe she'll finally take a fucking hint."
"Hint? What are you talking about?"
"C'mon, Zach, stop being as dumb as she is. The hint to get her shit together! I mean, you're sure not gonna help her do it. You'll just let her sponge off you as long as she feels like it."
"Oh for god's sake, Tina, she's not sponging off of anyone. She lost her job. Things have been really tough on her."
"Yeah, well things are tough on a lot of people. It doesn't mean she has to be taking up space under your roof. God knows she takes up enough of it."
Zach had to catch himself and take a deep breath at Tina's dig at Jamey's size. While it wasn't something she spoke of often, Zach knew it had always been a sensitive issue for her.
"She's practically family, Tina," he finally replied, measuring his tone. "And it's my roof. She belongs here." His voice was low but forceful as he fought to stay cool. At least one of them had to be rational.
"Jesus," the blonde spat, "she isn't really your family, so why the fuck does she have to live here? She's 23 years old, for christ's sake. She's perfectly capable of getting a job and living on her own. "
"She has a job. She's working for me, now."
"I mean a real job. Not some kind of charity make-work job that means she gets to tag along after big Zachy all day. It's fucking sick. She's on you like a nervous puppy. It's a wonder she doesn't hump your leg when she gets all excited."
"What the...?"
"Really, Zach, you can be such a fucking tool! Try to get this through that thick skull: either she goes, or this goes." She spread her arms to feature the arduously maintained body he'd never savor again if he made the wrong choice.
Zach froze in a moment of disbelief, but he finally concluded there was nothing more to say. "Okay then. Leave your house key on the table on your way out."
"Un-fucking-real," the blonde spat.
She goose stepped her way out of the pool and hastily threw on her boyshorts and tank top. She slammed her keys down hard on the plexiglass patio table.
"Have a nice life with Fatass, Shithead," she sniped without a backward glance. A second or two after she rounded the corner of the house, Zach heard something shatter. It sounded like one of his potted plants. Then her car door slammed, the engine revved, and the tires crunched as she fishtailed down the gravel drive to the main road.
There was no way to feel good about another fight, but if this was how Tina was going to respond to him helping Jamey it was better to know now. She'd been his younger sister's best friend all their lives, and had practically grown up in Zach's family home. It took a while before his brain stopped vibrating and he could even think about taking a few, deep, meditative breaths to bring his mood into a rational perspective.
Then he saw the light go on in Jamey's window. His heart clenched into a fist of anxiety. His clothes were strewn all over the patio, so he hurriedly yanked on his nylon boxer-briefs and bolted into the house, bolting up the stairs three at a time.
He found Jamey hurriedly throwing clothes into a suitcase lying open on the rumpled bed. Her face was wet, and she was heaving with sobs. She was still wearing one of the oversized T-shirts she borrowed from him to sleep in. Her opulent breasts heaved and shook without the trapping of a bra in her desperate yanking and slamming of drawers. Her thick round thighs flexed almost violently in her mad dash to pack. She wouldn't even look at him.
Zach caught her in front of the bureau and grabbed her by the wrist. He was a big, muscular man, but he was careful to grip her only as hard as it took to hold her still.
"JJ..."
She went limp at the sound of her name. She lowered her head and her sobs grew softer but deeper. She sounded like someone who'd stayed under water too long. Her chestnut ponytail was rumpled and loose. Zach smoothed his fingers along her silky hair while he let go of her wrist and drew her into his long, bulky arms.
"Oh Zach," she sputtered against his naked chest. "My life is so fucked up. I never meant to fuck up your life, too."
"Shhh," he whispered softly. He let his lips graze the top of her head. "Stop worrying. I'm sorry you had to hear that."
He kept stroking her hair while he held her in one arm. The trembling in her body was slowly ebbing away, although she was still weeping and breathing heavily. Zach was acutely aware of her generous breasts billowing against his body. With nothing but a threadbare T shirt between them, Jamey's heavy mounds felt warm and disturbingly good.
"Oh Zach, I never should have called you just 'cuz I got laid off. I didn't know what else to do. You were the first person I thought of."
Zach placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "That's what you're supposed to do," he told her. "I want to be the first person you think of."
He felt her breath against his bare chest.
"You're not supposed to go on rescuing me forever," she sighed.
"Says who?"
