Author's Note: In case you're starting with this chapter, a quick summary of what's happened so far. Emily, our protagonist, has discovered a room that no one in her family had been aware of. With more self-confidence than was prudent, the North American, white 18 year-old has enlisted the help of a construction worker, hired by her mother to remodel the basement. She has decided that she wants more than just his labor; she's set her sights on getting laid.
Opening her eyes to the sunlight she panicked. It was a double-swim day.
FUCK
, lifting her head to look at her parents' clock she lay back down relieved. 5:07. She had enough time to rinse off, slip on her suit and get to the club pool.
It was a perfect antidote to the previous night's anxiety. Even though swimming was the hardest for her, she considered it a challenge to overcome. Focusing only on the rhythm of her body as it sliced through the water, her heart beating in her ears, the micro-timing of taking a breath, all of it forced her complete attention.
When she got back to the house, the temperature had already started to climb. The air, fresh and sweet right after the storm, had become muggy and heavy. The sounds of construction and demolition greeted her as she entered the kitchen; she ran upstairs, before anyone could see her, to rinse off and get properly dressed for breakfast.
Stripping her suit off, she hopped in the shower and washed the chemicals from her hair. She worked the lather under her arms and through her triangle, small jolts hitting her every time her thumb brushed across her clit, bringing her back to the prior night. Her imagination drifted to when
it
might happen.
Today?
She wasn't ready for it today, but in some ways she knew it wasn't in her control. If Cos wanted to take her, she imagined not resisting, but she doubted he would go that far today. She needed to play things cool, but not cold.
Just keep it under wraps
(she smiled at the expression given she'd done nothing of the kind the day before) to prove to him she could keep a confidence. But then she wondered if she would strip again. The self-doubt from the night, though less intense, briefly popped into her head as she was drying off. Her feelings of embarrassment about what she'd done lingered, but she would probably do it again.
Maybe he'll expect it.
Downstairs, her thoughts wandered to more immediate concerns: breakfast and how to stay cool before she started working later in the afternoon. From her safe corner of the kitchen she focused on her meal and her phone, checking to see if anyone was available for a movie or a trip to the mall. Emily looked up whenever one of the guys made an appearance, acknowledging them no matter who it was. She didn't react any differently when Cos popped out and ignored him until he caught her eye.
"I've got some materials for the door, and I'll need your help carrying some tools up the stairs. You'll be ready around 3:30?"
Interesting.
He silently complemented her for not being a stupid twat. Still, her behavior the day before had destroyed any trust. She had a lot of work to do to regain it.
"You bet! That sounds great. Did you figure out both doors?" She tried to make it look like his conversation was extraordinary and unexpected.
"Welllll," he stopped and looked out the window. "The swinging door we agreed on. I've got the materials, except for the hardware. The wood turns out to be in much better shape than I remembered. Hopefully somebody will have the hardware in stock. The closet door, we'll want to talk about that one. You've got a couple of options, one a little less expensive than the other."
She didn't want to risk digging into the details or know what he meant exactly. She kept her poker face, but she could feel her thighs press together at the idea he was going to extract even more from her. She fought against how humiliating it might be for her, of how he might use her. The tendril, quiet until that moment, leapt up, brushing its tip against her chest. She inhaled slowly and quietly, nodding. "Okay," she responded noncommittally. "Can't wait to see what you've got."
The little minx. Flirty flirty. I showed you mine, show me yours. That's not the way it's going to work. You need to
earn
it.
He pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth curling up, shaking his head and turning away.
She didn't break her poker face the entire time, but her heart pounded in her chest.
*-*-*-*
She got back to the house later than she'd hoped. As she drove up, she saw the crew leaving. Waving and thanking them, she rushed in to get changed.
"Hey Cos!" She shouted through the back door as she bolted up the stairs. "I'll be right down after I put on some work clothes!" And then stopped short when she saw him upstairs measuring the opening.
"Oh?" He looked at her over his shoulder. "Why bother?" His tone was hard to read.
Okay. Step 3. Take control of the fucking situation.
She walked up to him, unable to see if he was being ironic, sardonic, dismissive or just a prick. Without waiting to find out exactly what he meant she pulled off her shirt and dropped her skirt, stepping out of it without bending down, staring at him the entire time. "I'll just be a minute," she said, slipping past him, slipping out of her shoes before she turned into her room.
"What'd you figure out?" She shouted as she pulled on a button-down and her jeans. It was beastly hot; she stopped to open her window and before she joined him at the opening, detoured into a couple of bedrooms to open theirs as well.
"Listen." He sounded annoyed or something. "Downstairs. We have to talk."
For the first time, she was worried. Now she could see he was pissed.
"I didn't ask for this," he stared at her over the kitchen counter. "You come at me," he waved at her as if she was undressed, "and you expect to get your way."
Who does she think she is? She can't just wave her pussy at you and expect you to drool like an 18 year old kid.
She held his gaze, waiting.
If he was really determined to call it quits, he wouldn't be so angry.
"Mac's a good guy. I've got a lot to lose here." He wiped the sweat from his face. "And you're fucking it up." He was gearing up for the full court press.
"Cos," she said quietly. "Listen. Seriously. I'm not. I thought we had an understanding...I'm...I'm sorry, about yesterday okay?" She spread her hands trying her best to look vulnerable. She saw the look of raw lust in his eyes and the anger.
Fuck fuck fuck! Thin ice. You're on really thin ice here.
"It was really hot, and I thought...I...I'm serious about the work. I really want it done. If it makes a difference, I'll just pay you for your time. I...." she didn't want to cry but it was hard not to. She could feel the tears about to overflow.
"As if..." he said quietly, looking at her. "It's too late for that. Do you have any idea how fucked up this is? Mac's client's daughter struts her stuff to the idiot carpenter. She cries to daddy when the shit goes down, he loses his job and maybe goes to jail." He stared at her, his eyes so hot. "He's an attorney, right?"
She has no idea where this is going. You've got to win the advantage here. Or walk away. But she's already fucked up. He could explain what happened to Mac. Risky, but still doable.
She wrapped her arms around herself but wouldn't look away. "It's not like that. It wouldn't be like that. I...I...yeah, okay, I'm young, I get it. I'm inexperienced. You...fuck, Cos, you're...hot. You're so fucking hot...I...yeah, okay. I'm sorry. I fucked it up. I'm sorry." She started crying for real. It really was all fucked up. She'd fucked it up by going too far yesterday. She had a huge hole in the wall and her dream summer was falling apart. She had closed her eyes, and when she opened them and wiped away the tears he was still there, staring at her. "I need the work done, Cos. I'm sorry. What can I do to get you to help me?"
Shit! That came out wrong!
Keep up the pressure, she's close but not there yet. She's still asking not offering. So much ground to win.
