Draining His Tank : Good With His Hands: Season 2 by Lisa Freed

Author:Lisa Freed [Freed, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-11T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

FERN

When the rush of my orgasm fades, I pull my hand out of my panties and stare in shock at my fingers coated in the warm sticky proof that yes, I just masturbated at a window staring down at a crew of guys installing my septic tank.

I push to my feet and race to the bathroom, planning to wash my hands and clean up between my legs. Sadly, I forgot the disconnected the water to set up the septic tank. I have to clean up the best I can with toilet paper and hand sanitizer. My panties are beyond soaked and there’s even a huge wet patch on my shorts. I bury them at the bottom of the hamper as if that can hide the truth of what I’ve done.

Even now, the satisfaction of a good orgasm radiates through me. It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced that. With my marriage on the rocks for months before Jared’s accident and then his death and dealing with the aftermath of all that mess, sex has been pretty far down on my list of things to worry about.

Guess I was overdue.

Deep down, I know that’s not all it was.

It’s Alex and his flirting. It’s the way his smile makes me feel all warm inside and how his manly scent drives me wild.

It’s my day off and with nothing else to do, I slump on my bed and read hoping to keep my thoughts from turning again and again to a certain man.

Around noon, the sounds of starting engines perk my interest and I look out my bedroom window to see the white work trucks leaving. Guess they’re all going on a lunch break.

Happy to have the place to myself again, I slip on my sneakers and go out to check my mail. It’s all bills, fun, fun, that I dump in my kitchen before heading outside to check out my backyard.

Turning the corner of the house, the destruction of my butterfly bushes leaves me with a sick, hollow feeling in my stomach. I loved those bushes and all the butterflies, moths, and other insects they attracted. They were some of the only touches I added to the outside of the house and now they’re ruined.

But it’s when my eyes land on the smashed remains of my bird bath tossed to the side like garbage that despair takes over. The backyard is wrecked! Huge, towering mountains of dirt line the sides of my yard, with long trenches dug deep down the middle of it. It doesn’t even resemble a yard let alone my yard any longer.

My teeth dig painfully into my lower lip as I hold back my tears.

Tears are useless and wasted. Facts are facts. I don’t have the money in the budget for landscaping to fix this.

That’s a laugh, what budget? I don’t have money, period.

I walk over to inspect one of the trenches, seeing gravel and a long pipe in it.

Surely, they’re going to cover it up because we never had exposed pipes and stones before, nor have I ever seen anyone else’s yard like this.

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