Chapter 5: THE HANDYMAN I

Warning: Explicit sexual content, infidelity/cheating, rough sex, workplace flirtation. 18+ only.

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THE ARRIVAL

Elena heard the truck pull into her driveway at exactly 10 AM and felt her stomach flip nervously.

She'd been waiting for this appointment all week. Not because of the broken kitchen sink....though that was genuinely a problem....but because of the reviews she'd read online about Marcus Home Repairs. Specifically, the reviews from women that all seemed to use words like "professional," "thorough," and "very... attentive."

And the profile picture on the website that showed a man who looked like he'd been carved from stone.

Elena checked her reflection in the hallway mirror one more time. She'd chosen her outfit carefully....black yoga pants that hugged every curve, a fitted white tank top with no bra underneath, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She told herself it was just because it was hot outside. Because these were comfortable clothes to wear while someone worked in her kitchen.

She was lying to herself, and she knew it.

The doorbell rang.

Elena took a deep breath, smoothed down her tank top....which only served to emphasize her breasts....and opened the door.

And forgot how to breathe.

Marcus was six-foot-three of pure blue-collar masculinity. Broad shoulders that strained against his work shirt, arms thick with muscle and covered in tattoos, a strong jaw with just enough stubble to be sexy, and dark eyes that assessed her with immediate, undisguised interest.

"Mrs. Richardson?" His voice was deep, rough, exactly the kind of voice that could command obedience.

"Elena," she corrected, her voice slightly breathless. "Please, call me Elena."

"Elena." The way he said her name made her shiver. "I'm Marcus. You called about a sink?"

"Yes, the kitchen. It's been leaking for days. My husband tried to fix it but..." She caught herself. Why had she mentioned her husband? "Well, he's not very handy."

Marcus's smile was slow and knowing. "Don't worry. I'm very good with my hands."

The double meaning wasn't lost on Elena. Her face flushed as she stepped back to let him in. "The kitchen's this way."

She led him through the house, very aware of his presence behind her, of how his eyes were definitely on her ass in these yoga pants. She'd worn them for exactly this reaction, but now that she had it, her heart was racing.

"Nice place," Marcus commented as they entered the kitchen. "You here alone?"

"My husband's at work. He won't be home until six." Why did she just tell him that? Why did she just confirm she'd be alone with him for eight hours?

"Plenty of time then," Marcus said, setting down his toolbox and moving to examine the sink. "Let me take a look at your... problem."

Elena watched as he crouched down to look under the sink, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a strip of tanned, muscular back. His jeans hugged an ass that was clearly the result of physical labor, and his arms—God, his arms.....flexed as he reached for tools.

"See anything?" Elena asked, then immediately regretted how that sounded.

Marcus glanced back at her, that knowing smile playing at his lips again. "Oh, I'm seeing a lot. Question is, what am I supposed to be fixing?"

"The sink. There's a leak."

"Right. The leak." He turned back to his work, but Elena could hear the amusement in his voice. "Let me check the pipes. Sometimes you just need the right tool to get deep enough to find the problem."

Elena pressed her thighs together. Was he doing this on purpose? The innuendo was so obvious it couldn't be accidental.

"Can I get you anything?" she offered. "Water? Coffee?"

"Water would be great. It's going to be... hard work."

Elena moved to the refrigerator, bending at the waist to reach the water bottles on the bottom shelf—bending more than strictly necessary, knowing exactly what view she was giving him.

When she straightened and turned, Marcus was staring directly at her ass. He didn't look away when she caught him. Just held her gaze, his expression dark with hunger.

"Here," Elena said, her voice barely above a whisper, handing him the water.

Their fingers touched as he took it, and the contact sent electricity through her body. Marcus held her gaze as he opened the bottle and took a long drink, and Elena watched his throat work, imagining....

"So," Marcus said, setting down the bottle and moving closer. "Your husband. He's not very handy, you said?"

"No. He's... he works in finance. Very white collar. He doesn't really do physical labor."

"That's a shame." Marcus reached past her.....close enough that she could smell his cologne mixed with honest sweat....to set a wrench on the counter. "A woman like you deserves a man who knows how to use his hands. Who isn't afraid of getting dirty. Who can handle... physical demands."

Elena's breathing was shallow now. "Are we still talking about plumbing?"

"Are we?" Marcus's hand landed on the counter beside her hip, caging her in. "You tell me, Elena. What exactly do you need fixed?"