Beyond Repair

Chapter 6 - Max

The last thing I had expected to see when I headed into the kitchen was her, let alone her like that. She was a little too short for the worktop to be a comfortable height and was tiptoeing slightly. All it did was force me to trace my eyes up her legs, taking in the firm and defined calf muscles. Then her thighs without an ounce of fat on them, the smoothness was so excessive that if she had been a photo, I would have assumed there was airbrushing involved.

The curve of her butt just stuck out below the hem of the ridiculously tiny hot pink shorts. I found myself gulping at the sight of her. The smile pulled at my cheeks. Maybe I could get used to having her around if I was going to be greeted by that sort of sight regularly. As I cleared my mouth of the suddenly excessive amount of saliva, it went down the wrong hole slightly and forced a strangled cough from my mouth. She turned and looked at me like she had seen a ghost.

"What are you doing here in my kitchen in the middle of the night?" My lips felt so dry, and I was left with no choice but to lick my lips. The strange sensations running through me felt so alien. It had been so long since I had looked at any woman with any form of appreciation. Instantly, the thought filled me with guilt. As though I was betraying Terri by even thinking about another woman. Telling myself that it was the sportsman in me, but then my gaze would have lingered on her lean muscles, not her ass cheeks.

"Dickie gave me the guest suite as part of the job, which I'm assuming he didn't mention to you." She didn't move a muscle, just stood there with the knife hovering over her sandwich as though I had caught her emptying the safe not making a sandwich.

"Did he now? That's new. Do you fancy making me one, please?"

"Of course, it's your produce after all." Produce, who says produce? She was an odd one. I normally figured people out pretty quickly, but she was a real puzzle. Confusing, intriguing and dangerous. She tossed her blonde curls over her shoulder and revealed her tattoo fully. It was a swallow. I had one on my calf as a tribute to those I had lost. Terri in particular, which was why her name was laced underneath the bird. It seemed apt to have it on the body part that I was grieving too. With the bonus of not feeling anything when I had it done.

The swallow was a pretty universal symbol of lost loved ones, and I wondered who she had lost that was special enough to deserve the tribute. Also, I was wondering if that was the reason for the darkness in those midnight-sky eyes of hers. I pulled my chair up to the lowered strip of the worktop and waited for her. The area had previously been a breakfast bar, and I had to have it lowered. I had been forced to redo all the worktops in the kitchen just so I had one small section at the right height I needed.

As she turned towards me fully with both sandwiches in hand, I gulped again. Struggling to find my breath. What I had thought was a simple crop top was anything but. The black cropped vest had a slit in the centre of its neckline that dipped right between her breasts and forced my eyes to follow it like some sort of naughty treasure trail. Generally, she was relatively tanned. The sort of tan that was gained from spending time outdoors rather than fake tan. Except the treasure map vest dipped below her tan and revealed two milky-coloured round, pert boobs. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra underneath and the thought of her n*****s just hiding beneath that thin fabric left all the blood in my body rushing to my groin.

I'd had boners, but that was something else entirely. My c**k was throbbing and my balls were aching. It was so severe that I seriously considered making my excuses and heading back to my room. I needed to ease the pressure more than I had ever needed anything in a long time.

It was too late, she was too close. If I tried to move, the issue would be evident the second I moved back from underneath the worktop. I just had to hope it settled and quickly.

"Shit." The curse coming out of her mouth seemed so at odds with the prim and proper nature she had previously displayed, but I didn't have the time to concentrate on that. She had tripped on the little lip that ran around the slight raise where the worktop was. The lip was what made it possible for me to get under the worktop. As she tripped, the sandwiches left the plates she was carrying in either hand. One landed almost completely intact on the worktop and the other landed on my lap.

I didn't have the chance to stop her from trying to retrieve the sandwich while apologising profusely. "Don't worry about it. I've got it, no stop. Just stop." Then the horror in her eyes told me she knew the reason for me trying to dismiss her from gathering the sandwich from my groin. Even if her eyes hadn't given it away, the feeling of her fingers grazing my shaft would have. The noise that came out of my mouth couldn't have been described as anything other than a deep hum of a groan. Her hand stilled, but she didn't retract it. She just stood there, slightly bent over and giving me an even better view of her t**s.

As my c**k twitched, her fingers made contact with me again. I couldn't keep my eyes open, as they rolled that far back in my head I was sure they would go all the way back around. Looping like a kid trying to swing themselves to the moon and boy did it feel like I had managed to take off into outer space.

I tried to focus my mind in the way I knew I could. Focusing on anything and everything I could think of that was the opposite level of sexy that she was.

When I opened my eyes she had retracted herself from my lap and stood there shyly staring at the floor. "Sorry, Mr Matthews."

"If you are going to keep calling me that, then you can damn well get out." For a second she looked like I had struck her, and then her eyes focused like a laser on mine. Staring me down and making me feel like I was some sort of small toddler. She had a way of drawing out my shame and laying it bare for all to see.

"I will call you by your name. I can't see any reason why that is not the appropriate thing to do. Don't take it out on me because you're out here like a horny teenager." There was a slight huff that followed but she didn't move. I couldn't understand how one person could be shy one second and then calling me out on my boner the next.

I decided to actually try reasoning with her instead of just dictating. She was right. She had no reason not to call me by my full name unless I gave her one. "I try to avoid my surname wherever I can. When I could still play, everyone called me Matthews, and it doesn't sit well with me, anymore. I would appreciate it if you called me Max. I would also appreciate it if you could remind me of your name, so I can return the favour."

"Clara." She held her hand out to me to shake, and I took it instinctively, but it was a mistake. The warmth of human contact under the circumstances did nothing to improve my situation. "It's nice to meet you, Max. Although it's not the first time."

I had an awful urge to pull her down onto my lap. To feel that ass grinding against my c**k, but it was a thought I needed to put to bed. Sleeping with the staff wasn't the best idea. Especially when I hadn't attempted to get back on that horse since Terri. Still, the need was there, and I internally begged it to go away.

"I'm sorry about er… before. I'm not used to finding scantily clad women in my kitchen. I'm going to head back to my room and leave you to it."

"It's fine. You don't have to."

"Oh, but I do." I placed the last of the remnants of the sandwich on the side and dropped myself backwards down the lip. Speeding myself toward my room as fast as I could. Pulling her into my lap might be too inappropriate, but I had to do something before I burst a blood vessel or something.

My movements were lightning speed as I transferred myself onto the bed. Pulling my shorts down just enough to release the hardness. Feeling a slight release instantly as the fabric was no longer pressing against it. It was so hard that there was pain just from touching it.

I grabbed my tablet and stuffed my headphones back in my ears. They were still connected from earlier and the game I was watching started playing again automatically. I turned it off and searched for p**n. Finding myself gravitating to the petite blonde-haired type. The innocent-looking girls with filthy mouths.

Standing the tablet up beside me at an angle that made it easy to see before pressing play. I wasted no time in gripping my c**k in my hand despite the soreness and started pumping away at it. Slowly, to start while the girl on screen took the bloke's knob in her mouth. Gagging as he pushed it deeper and deeper. Her pretty blonde curls bopped as her head moved back and forth. Her dainty fingers clinging to his hips. It was good, but it wasn't what I wanted.

I skipped forward a little and watched as she bent over. The only part of her partner that could be seen was his p***s. His hand slowly slid into her hair at the nape of her neck and took a firm grasp before slowly sliding his length inside her p***y. The groan in response sent my c**k twitching all over again. Except I didn't feel like I was watching p**n. I felt like I was sliding myself into Clara's warm, moist insides. Her groaning in appreciation. I stopped pumping for a second and spat on my hand. It wasn't usual for me, but I needed that moist feeling. I needed it to feel like her; it was the only way I was going to get the release I needed.