Sledgehammer (Dirty Boys Do It Better Book 2) by JC Jaye

Author:JC Jaye [Jaye, JC]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-27T16:00:00+00:00

SLEDGE: ELEVEN

“Jeez, that so-called hero is totally overacting. And talk about a farfetched plot! I can’t believe this thing got such glowing reviews. What do you think, Joe?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, casually readjusting the boner camouflage smashed over my lap.

What do I think? I think that this fucking pillow is pretty damned obvious, that’s what I think.

“Ah, it’s okay. I’ve seen worse.”

Maybe.

A sofa cushion distant, hesitant hazels shifted sideways before swiftly sliding back to the screen.

“Liar. You’re just being polite because I picked it.” Becca popped a few puffed kernels between her lips, fussing with the hem of her tiny skirt. “You may not realize it, Mr. Jaggard, but you have ‘I wish I was watching two guys beat the crap out of each other’ written all over your face.”

That elicited a chuckle, momentarily distracting me from the juggernauts of pain pounding in both of my heads.

Particularly the smaller one, directly south of my belt buckle.

“That obvious, huh?”

My couch mate nodded, her eyes locked on untalented actors. “Yup.”

Another protracted silence stretched out—me pretending to follow a dumb-as-rocks storyline while making love to a throw pillow; Becca curled in the corner, as tough to read as the Sphinx crouched in Egyptian sand.

Can this fidgety goddess truly be my newly betrothed? If so, why is she acting so weird, so damned distant? Did we have a fight or something before I faceplanted and cracked my skull? Should I broach the subject? Make the first move? Jesus, if only I could remember shit!

The sappy flashback montage happening onscreen was ultra-lame, so I cleared my throat, the dead air hanging between us uncomfortable as fuck.

“You, uh, you wanna show me a few of those reno pics?” I gestured spastically toward her cell.

“Oh, yes! Good idea. Let me wash down these calories first.”

Uncoiling herself, Becca reached for her soda, crossing and recrossing toned, bare legs. I ground my molars, jamming a cushy square of cloth against me tighter.

Fuck my life, such smooth, golden skin. Fuckin’ cockjerking little outfit.

The woman took forever to quench her thirst and set down the drink; the effort of keeping my eyes off of wet, cube-sucking lips a Herculean task. I was sweating when the tormentress wiped buttery fingers on a napkin and scooched closer, shoving her phone under my nose.

As soon as the first photo appeared, Becca lost the shyness, getting all excited as she took off scrolling and narrating.

“I’ll start at the beginning. This is the front of the house with the ‘SOLD’ sign hours after I obtained the keys. What a momentous day, I’ll tell you! Here’s the big porch you’re going to shore up and repaint, and a close-up of the disintegrating front door. You said you’ll be able to restore it, good as new. Check out all the windows we’re going to replace… I think your total count was forty-four. Here’s a shot of the backyard jungle before I dove in with mosquito repellent and sunscreen. There’s still a ton of overgrowth, but

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