As the water splashes over my shoulders, easing away the stress and excitement of the day, I sigh gratefully. I’ve always been a nighttime shower girl. Glad I’m not a man who needs to shave in the morning. I like being able to roll out of bed fifteen minutes before I have to go if need be. Not to mention, the warmth and massaging pulse of the water hitting me in that perfect spot between the base of my neck and my shoulder blades is one of the best ways to relax me enough to sleep. And other places, sometimes.

And boy, did I have a day that has me both keyed up and exhausted. I review the meeting with the homeowner in my head as I pick up my washcloth and start scrubbing down my body. It couldn’t have gone better, and I don’t think I could’ve gotten a better deal. As soon as I got the man’s number on how much he paid his brother to take the property off his hands, I upped it by only ten percent, and he accepted. Even with that, I’m going to get the house for at least thirty percent under local market value.

It needs a lot of work, though, and I’m gonna need Caleb for most of the projects. I’ll have to get him to block out his schedule for several weeks so that we can hit the market before summer ends. He’s going to be a lifesaver, and ‘Mr. Fix-It’ could just be my ticket to turning this project into something that’ll make me feel good and give me a little money to top it off. I know I teased him tonight—I always do—but I don’t think I could do this without him.

As I think about Caleb, I flash back to when he walked into the house tonight. I know I gave him a little look about showing up like that, but holy fuck, he was walking sex on a stick. I know some women like clean-cut, suit-and-tie kinda guys, but not me. Give me the man who doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty any day, his hair messed up from hard work and a day’s worth of stubble shadowing his cheeks, and I’m just about ready to fall back and spread my legs. Add in smelling like he just spent the past eight hours busting his ass and is ready to spend some well-deserved downtime with his woman? Oh, fuck, yes.

When Caleb took his shirt off, I almost drooled down my chin. I know he works out a lot. Hell, we’ve gone for runs together most Sundays since I got on a health kick a while back. The healthy eating might not have stuck because burgers are the angels’ sustenance, but the runs are awesome. But runs don’t give you a damn eight-pack. Yes, eight. I know because I’ve counted them.

Twice.

Okay, maybe more. But the fact is, when I’m holding my sides and trying to keep myself from hurling because I’ve spent the past three miles trying to keep up with a guy easily a foot taller than me, and I need something to distract myself from the pain in my sides, Caleb’s stomach is an easy target.

That’s the way we’ve always been. I think it’s an outgrowth of our first encounters as adversaries. What started out in open competition has transformed, and I like Caleb. But we’ve always teased each other mercilessly, and sometimes, even folks around us think we’re a couple, but we’ve never taken it to that point. It’s just the way we communicate, an evolution of the trash talking we used to do. Now, it’s just sexy banter.

That doesn’t stop the secret that I’ve kept hidden for the past couple of months, that deep down, I think Caleb is one of the sexiest guys I’ve ever seen. Caleb Strong sends my pussy into overdrive sometimes, and right now, I’m thinking that what Caleb doesn’t know won’t hurt him. With a grin, I start to move my hands over my body, tracing across my collarbones and down the outer edges of my breasts. I’ve always been a girl who loves her breasts played with, even if they’re not big. A man who can give my breasts proper attention can make me melt like caramel.

Slowly circling toward my nipples, pretending it's Caleb’s slightly calloused hands on me, I close my eyes and let the warm water add to my fantasy. I move my hands slowly, taking my time as my right hand plays with my nipples. “Oh, God . . .” I moan, pulling on my nipples slowly, rolling them between my fingers and feeling the tingle rush down my body all the way to my toes. “Mmm, that’s so good, Caleb. So good.”

I stroke my other hand down my stomach, finding the wet curls at the top of my pussy. My fingernails scrape lightly over the soft hairs, down to my pussy, lightly cupping myself. I start rubbing, letting my fingers massage my soft outer lips, leaning back against the tiles of the shower as I slide a finger between.

“That’s it, slide it in deep,” I moan as I slip two fingers inside me. In my mind, I can see the steely tension of his forearm as he starts pumping his long, sensitive fingers in and out of me. The first things I noticed about Caleb—well, after his body—were his hands. They show such brute power, but I’ve seen his attention to detail and how graceful his calloused hands can be.

I roll my thumb, brushing it over my clit as in my mind, Caleb’s abs flex like they did when he was reaching to grab his fresh shirt. I can almost smell the honest, manly scent of him. He’s not one for body washes or exfoliating cleansers. Give Caleb Strong a bar of Irish Spring, and he’ll come out looking and smelling like a god. My pussy throbs as my thumb works with my fingers, clenching and tightening, wishing it was him I was feeling. I take a deep breath, remembering how his shirt smelled like him—earthy, manly, with a hint of sawdust. Rubbing faster, I imagine him in little pink fluffy handcuffs and smile, but when I realize he’s all mine to tease any way I want, I fall off the cliff into my orgasm before I even touch the imaginary him in my mind. “Oh, fuck,” I moan as my pussy tightens around my fingers and my ass starts thumping into the tile of my shower. “Yes, that’s it, Caleb, make your baby come.”

The world gets swimmy, and after a moment where I might’ve actually blacked out, I return to the shower and finish washing up. This summer might be the best of my life. I’m going to get to spend hours a day with Caleb, getting all the eye candy I could ever dream of. I promise myself, as I pull my pajamas on and put on my hairband to get ready for bed, that I’m going to make the most of it, teasing him while getting plenty of footage for my internal pleasure memories. “I’m gonna make you hard enough you won’t need a hammer to drive in any nails.” I chuckle before yawning. “See you soon.”

I’m asleep before my head even hits the pillow.