CHAPTER 4
Daisy
I can feel the heat in my face. I know my cheeks are red, partly from the stubble of his beard and partly because I’m embarrassed at what just happened. How did this escalate so quickly? I was safely inside having girl time half an hour ago, and now here I am flush and properly fucked against the outside wall of my own house. I’ve never done anything like this before, and part of me is feeling regret. Scratch that, a lot of me is feeling regret. But there’s still a part of me that doesn’t. If I had passed up this opportunity I would have always wondered “what if.”
And it’s not the type of “what if” to cross off the bucket list, but the “what if” this incredible man was here today, gone tomorrow. My dad’s a perfectionist and he goes through gardeners like I go through hair ties.
I’m still breathing hard when he sets me down. You’d think the lust would have left me after what he just gave me, but I still want him. I’m ready for more, but I know we can’t…not here at least, and not now. My dad will be home from work within the hour and I’m not taking any chances. I’m paying this guy for his services, not those kinds, and getting him out of here. I can’t be around him right now. My dad will surely detect something. He’s B.S. detector is always on, and has been honed through years of practice.
But what definitely was no B.S. was the rush he just gave me. Good grief! I’d been waiting on my ex to show me he really wanted me all these years, and now I see all I really needed was the right guy. A guy who really wants me. A guy who has to have me. And maybe, an older guy?
I’ve never had a thing for older guys, but there’s something about him. The way he knew just how to touch me. The way he made me feel safe by pulling me into the passageway so no one could see. He gave me that thrill of sex in public while eliminating the chance that we might actually get caught. But there was always that small chance we might, and that’s part of what made it so hot.
His skin is more weathered than I’m used to. I’m not sure if it’s the years of sun exposure from working outside, or just his age. He wears it well, perfect actually. It distinguishes him and separates him from the type of guys I’m normally around. He’s not old, per say. He’s just older. With age comes experience and with experience comes life’s successes and failures. And as far as successes go this one is off the charts, for me at least. But I need this to be over now, before something so hot and fast crashes and burns.
“So,” I say, as I straighten myself out.
“So,” he says. He’s towering over me, as he reaches around me for a towel that’s sitting on top of his backpack. He begins toweling himself off like he’s done it a million times in the men’s locker room for whatever numerous sports he’s played. He definitely played high school sports, and it sure looks like he played in college, and maybe even some advanced amateur competitions recently. The man clearly hasn’t lost a step.
“I guess I better pay you. I’m sure you have somewhere else to be,” I say.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he says, as he stops in the middle of drying his upper thigh just in time to shoot me a strange glance.
“Sorry, I just mean that…well…you know…I have to pay you for the job you did.”
He resumes drying, but never takes his eyes off me. He says nothing as he slides into his pants, before putting on his white V-neck T-shirt. He laces up his boots and throws his backpack over his shoulder. Finally he says, “I’m not sure if this is supposed to be some kind of juvenile joke that millennials use, but either way you’re way out of line.”
He’s obviously angry, but I can see past it. There’s a hurt in his eyes that he just can’t hide. It makes me wonder what this all really meant to him. If he was this easy, I’m guessing this isn’t his first time. Then again he’s probably thinking the same about me. What started off great is threatening to end up not so well. I’m on the rebound and I let my emotions get the best of me. I take responsibility for what I did, but it needs to end here, even though I’d really like to know more about this guy…this man.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean any harm. Let me just run and grab your money.”
I go to take a step forward, but he slides in blocking me. He puts his hands up on the concrete wall above and behind me. He’s got me pinned in and as much as it should be scaring me, it’s got my pussy begging for a second go round with this gorgeous gardener.
In this position it’s much more clear just how much bigger he is than me. His shoulders are spread wide and the V shape of his torso is accentuated even more.
“Let’s get one thing straight, right fucking now. I’m not some sort of gigolo, or whatever it is your high and mighty condescending opinion of me might be. Do you understand me?” he says.
I nod my head yes.
“Good,” he says. “Just keep your childish, and foolish, opinions of me to yourself,” he says, moving away so I can pass, but I don’t dare. He steps through the passageway and shakes his head as he turns onto the grass, and out of my view.
I stay still for a moment in order to catch my breath. Jesus, no man except for my dad has ever spoken to me that way before…and strangely I realize just how much I’ve been missing out. I feel like guys my age are always walking on eggshells around girls. They’re afraid to offend us so they just go into some default puppy dog state where they agree with everything we say. Just smile and wag their tails with their tongues hanging out, hoping it will get them somewhere. It doesn’t of course.
I count backwards from ten and decide it’s time to go out and around and back in my house. I need a shower before dad gets home. I’m not taking any chances.
I hear the doorbell ring and freeze up. Who in the hell is here, and did they see?
I creep out from around the side of the house and look up at the front door. What in the world? Mystery man is ringing the bell. Scratch that, he’s knocking, old school style. What decade is this guy from?
I step out onto the grass, determined to get this guy out of here asap.
“Can I help you?” I say.
He looks up from the old Nokia brick phone he’s fumbling with, trying to figure out how to get it to work. It’s cute, but I try not to smile.
“I don’t need any help. Thanks,” he says gruffly, before stuffing the phone back into his backpack and pounding on the door again.
“I’m right here,” I say.
He turns to look at me in that “didn’t I get rid of you” type of way, before saying, “I’m not looking for you. I’m looking for Tim.”
“He’ll be home within an hour.”
He looks back at the door before raising his head to the sky and exhaling hard. He turns and sits in front of my house! I have got to get rid of this guy.
“If you give me your name I let him know you were looking for him.”
“I’ll wait,” he says.
“But I can just tell him you came by. It’s not a problem. I mean, he’ll see you were hear by the work you did.” This guy definitely isn’t getting the message.
“Look,” he scowls. “I’m not leaving a message with some neighbor. I’ll wait for him right here.”
My eyes dart around in their sockets, trying to piece together his words. Some neighbor! Who does he…think…I…am?
“I live here. I can give him the message.”
“Now I’ve heard it all. I clearly see you walking down the street, you trespass on my buddy’s property, and now you’re going to try and tell me you live in his house? Nice try. I think it’s time you get going.”
“It’s time you get going! I’m his fucking daughter!”
His eyes glaze over and my words echo out down the block.
“Daisy?”
“Who else?”
He looks confused, before his body suddenly relaxes. He’s suddenly comfortable again, not believing a word I said. “No you’re not.”
I march right over to him and reach into my back pocket. I whip out my driver’s license and shove it right in front of his face. He’s looking up at me with a big shit-eating grin, before his eyes drop down. I see him look at the picture, then my information, then back up at me again. That grin is wiped right off his face.