Page 22

JULIA

I take the punchlist for the guest house by the oak tree and Tonya takes the list for the house on the other side of the pool.

Everything’s quicker with the power tools she brought, but I make sure to use all my hand tools at least once.

Apparently they’re finely crafted German instruments.

But also, Caspian’s crew should feel useful and seen. I think they’d like that.

I can’t figure out what turned him back into a screwdriver. It has to be a delayed reaction from at least one of the multi-orgasmic encounters we had last night.

“Sorry to go so hard,” I whisper to the hammer as I use the back end to pry out a nail that must have been driven by a one-eyed toddler. The hammer doesn’t respond.

Honestly? That’s perfect. More men should shut the fuck up and do the shit they were built to do.

My sisters always wondered if I was a lesbian, because the men I brought home never did it for me in the long run.

Sure, I’ve slept with a few women. The experimentation was nice.

But I liked the D too much. Unfortunately, it was always attached to a person who was either not enough or too much of one thing.

Alan was fantastic in bed but had the personality of a sheet of copy paper.

Ivan was strong and tough. He was even smart.

But when I mentioned ass play, he Doordashed gloves and disinfectant.

Heriberto was funny as fuck, but we both realized he was also gay as fuck.

We still go out sometimes, but he’s got no D for me.

Then there was Bennett, who seemed to really have it all.

Funny. Good job. Educated. Respectful. Fucked me like a champ.

One time, after about a month, we were joking around.

I told him he was twenty percent more attractive in a suit.

He said I was eleven percent less attractive when I spoke Spanish.

I thought it was because my accent was terrible and I can really fuck up a verb sometimes.

But it turned out that wasn’t what he meant.

He didn't like Hispanic people or when I sounded like one.

Bye-bye, Benny-boy.

A guy who fucks me hard, makes me come like a boss, amuses me for a few hours, then turns into a screwdriver?

Not such a bad thing, frankly.

“Good job,” I tell the hammer when the nail’s out.

Is an emotion emanating from this tool? Not that it’s beaming or proud, but it’s like, yeah sure, I know I’m good at this .

I flip it mid-air and catch the handle. “I bet you’re Enzo.

” I pluck a nail from my box to replace the one I pulled. “Let’s put that other end to work.”

Tonya pops her head in as I’m spackling over the new nail. “Lunch?”

“I’m not hungry. Maybe bring me back an apple or two?”

“Okay. And I’m making coffee. That creamer shit was gross.”

“Oh, yeah. A cup of that.”

“I’m taking the cart.” She’s already outside.

“Fine!”

My coffee doesn’t come, which is fine because I forgot all about it. I’m just churning away at this list, getting to the stupid stuff I was avoiding, which as usual, involves presswood. Pain in the ass, that shit.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce asks from behind me after tiptoeing in. It’s almost as if he was trying to scare me.

I’ve decided my plan was terrible. I’m not pretending that I’m going to the party. I can’t get that lie out of my mouth.

“Working.”

“Guests are arriving so hurry up.” He looks down at me as if I’ve been lazing around all day. Maybe I should have heard the party music coming from the main house, but really, fuck this guy.

“Good thing I’m finished.”

“Your friend’s already at the party.”

The way he says it, with a smirk and a wink that’s barely discernible, sets me right on edge. She’s not there. Not willingly. I throw my tools in the box and rush past him.

No cart. Tonya’s not in the house on the other side of the pool. It’s all half-finished molding and crooked blinds.

Fuck. She wouldn’t leave it like this.

Carrying all my tools, I run to the old guest house as though my ass is on fire. Tonya’s not in the main house party. Or at least, she didn’t put on her dancing shoes and go with a smile on her face.

I bust through the door. There’s milk all over the kitchen floor. Some of it is smeared. There are two paper cups of coffee on the counter. I don’t need to touch them to know they’re cold.

“There you are!” It’s Duke, one shoe in the puddle. Is he cleaning up the mess on the kitchen floor? No. He’s rolling the last apple between the counter and his palm, pushing it hard so it bruises all over. His eyes are glazed and his jaw’s already grinding. “I was getting worried.”

This guy’s got more broken capillaries in his nasal passage than anyone in Hollywood.

“Where’s Tonya?”

“She decided to do the fun thing. The right thing. The thing every not-stuck-up person does.”

“She didn’t go to your fucking orgy.”

“Orgy?” He half-laughs. “What is this? Rome? It’s a fuck-in, and let’s not make everything into an ordeal, okay?” He holds up the plastic bag Dan gave me. “What’s this?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“These are guy clothes. You sneak in a guest I didn’t know about? Because that violates my privacy.”

“Give me that!” I grab the bag.

“You wanna do this easy? Or you wanna do it hard?”

“I don’t wanna. Period.”

“That wasn’t on the list, my little cupcake.”

When he calls me food, I wake up to reality. The normal rules of civilized society are suspended. He is a person. I am consumable. His guests have desires. Tonya and I have the means to fulfill them.

“Come on.” He holds out his hands, trying to show me how harmless he is. “Five grand, cash, outside what you’re getting paid to fix shit up. Ten if you’ll take it in Bitcoin.”

I lay my hand on my toolbelt. I can’t get past this guy alone. Not without trouble. He’s known for being litigious as fuck and winning even when he’s wrong. I finger the edge of my screwdriver and remember there’s a whole man inside it.

And like that, I have a plan. But Duke’s gotta think I’m in.

“You said ten?”

“Bitcoin.”

“Ten for Tonya too.”

“Sure, whatever.” He checks his watch. “Let’s go. It’ll be fun. Easiest twenty grand you ever made.”

“Let me go wash up, or do you like it when girls stink down there?”

“Hurry up.” He reaches into his pocket for a little baggie. “Maybe put on something a little less butch.”

“Maybe some of your friends like it that way, asshole.”

He tilts his head for a moment to consider. I rush to the bathroom before I have to argue my case, throwing Dan’s bag on the bed so both hands are free.

“Okay,” I say once the door is closed. Deep breath. This is easy.

I strip off my toolbelt and jeans, then turn on the shower, but I don’t go in. My “down there” is in fine shape for this project. I slide the screwdriver out of my toolbelt and lean one elbow on the vanity. I put one foot on the toilet.

Then I close my eyes and push the screwdriver handle inside me. It gives me all the pleasure of a gynecological visit.

“Come on,” I try to will myself aroused, but that’s not how it works.

Deep breath.

Caspian. A real man. The way he let me wash him from head to toe.

The tight hard muscles of his body. The hair on his chest. The scent of him after he fucked me.

Musk and bleach and magic. His thick, arched eyebrows.

Those lips. His look of shock when he woke up between my legs.

How he understood why I felt violated. The way he held his head high when he walked in from the forest, naked, filthy…

as if to say, “I am who I am and I do what I do.”

I’m wet now, spinning and jerking the screwdriver, rubbing it on my clit before sliding it back.

Yes, it feels good.

Yes, the thought of him is getting me close.

But the ache in my shoulder tells me I’ve been trying for a while, and Duke’s too coked up to exhibit the patience required for me to bring Caspian back to life.

One more minute to remember the taste of his dick and his hands at the back of my head.

One more minute for the feel of his tongue on my clit.

One more second to conjure up the groan he makes when he comes.

One more…

“What the fuck are you doing in there?”

A weirdly polite knock follows.

He’s set me back a full minute, but I overpromise, “Just give me a second!”

I try to put my mind back on my business, but I’m distracted by scraping and clicking from the doorknob.

I start to suspect he has a key just as the door opens, and yep, the key is right in the knob. I’m in full view, naked from the waist down with a screwdriver hanging between my legs.

Duke’s face goes from angry to intrigued. He steps into the bathroom, wagging his finger at me. “I knew you were freaky. I like that.”

I take out the screwdriver and spin it on my thumb, letting the pussy-slick handle drop into my palm. I can’t afford to be ashamed. “I said to give me a second.”

“Come on, baby. You don’t need it.” He grabs me hard by the shoulders and pushes me back. I try to wiggle away, but he grabs my throat and puts all his weight on that arm. “Just relax. You’re getting paid.”

His free hand undoes his jeans. I paw at his face, but I can barely reach and he seems unfazed. Jesus fucking Christ. For real? Is this happening?

No. It’s not. I don’t give a fuck about being nice or keeping this job. I don’t care about my reputation or being perfect for everyone. I care about getting Tonya and me the fuck out of here.

I swipe at him with the screwdriver. He backs up in time, loosening his grip on my throat, but he also spends a split second deciding to be pissed, and that’s my opportunity.

With my foot, I push him back against the vanity, pulling my right arm back so I can get some power behind jamming Caspian’s flathead right in his motherfucking eye.

Two things happen quickly.

He sees me coming and moves enough to fuck up my aim. The sharp edge lands full force at the outer edge of his eye, and once it lands hard enough to hit the bone, the second thing happens.