Abby

“Hellooo?”

Joel flinches and looks up at Tommy, who’s sitting in front of him at the bar table. For the last few minutes his younger brother’s been complaining about their pain in the ass client and Joel’s mind wandered off. Or at least that's what Joel thinks he’s been saying.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Joel takes a sip of his beer, hiding his eyes from Tommy’s piercing stare.

“You ok, man?” Tommy asks, leaning slightly forward as if trying to read the older man’s expression in the dimly lit bar. “Been quiet all night.”

“Yeah. Jus’ tired.”

“‘K,” Tommy gives Joel a little smile and takes a swig of his whiskey.

****

Joel isn’t lying. Well, not completely lying. He’s been sleeping badly for a few weeks now, tossing and turning, fantasising about you and jerking off till early morning hours then driving to work completely exhausted.

It’s gotten even worse now because every time his head hits the pillow, you’re staring at him with those ‘fuck-me eyes’ of yours. The ones he saw in the car the last time he drove you to college. Their fiery glint was calling for action, demanding it, luring him in. Joel had never been that horny in his damn life. A shudder still runs through his body as he remembers how hard he came in that parking lot, desperately moaning your name in his car like a perv. What if he got caught? Cold sweat covers his forehead at the thought. His career, his reputation, his life — they’d be ruined.

But what else was he supposed to do with all that desire? Fuck you in his truck right outside your school? Leave his cum not on his fist but deep in your sweet pussy? Hnggg just a thought of having you makes Joel’s hand slither down to his already-tight boxer briefs as he’s lying wide awake in his bed. Every goddamn night is the same.

A squirt of lotion on his palm.

Heavy breathing.

Joel’s fist pumping his hard cock.

A needy moan.

Frustrated huffs and puffs as Joel’s wiping his cum off.

Now he keeps a pack of wet wipes and a bottle of lotion on his nightstand just for that. It’s like he’s 18 years old again, judging by the amount of loads he’s squirted all over his bedsheets. The longing is getting out of hand but what can he do with this obsession that has your name? Joel has no clue.

****

Tommy gets another glass of whiskey while Joel’s nursing the same bottle in his hand. He’d love to go stronger, maybe he’d fall asleep without thinking of you, but the possibility of alcohol loosening his tongue and him yapping about you in front of his brother scares Joel to death.

Besides, he didn't come to get drunk. He has a plan and he needs a sober mind to carry it out.

“So… How’s Maria like her new car?” Joel asks, inching closer to the topic he wants to talk about.

Tommy’s face lights up.

“She loves it! Benji, too. We installed his chair yesterday.” Tommy makes big eyes and huffs, “Damnn, it nearly cost me a marriage. Those things are created to break up families.”

He chuckles gleefully and Joel nods with a strained smile. He clears his throat and as nonchalantly as possible tests the ground.

“Whatcha ya gonna do with the Toyota?”

Tommy raises his brows, surprised by the question about Maria’s old car, and then shrugs.

“Hmm… Sell it I guess.” Tommy frowns. “Don’t wanna think about all that yet. Already know it’s gonna be a pain.”

“Yeah,” Joel hums, his eyes darting between the bottle and his brother’s face. “What if I take it off your hands?”

“What d’you mean?”

“Sell it to me.”

Tommy stares at Joel for a few seconds as if expecting him to be joking.

“You have a car. Sarah, too,” he says. “Why’d you…?”

“S’for a friend,” Joel interrupts his brother, impatient to get it over with.

“A friend…” Tommy repeats slowly, his head tilted to the side. Joel takes a sip of beer and drops his eyes to the table, suddenly scared that Tommy will find you there, in his thoughts.

“Does that friend have a female name by any chance?”

Fucker!

Joel grunts and glares at the sibling, his lips pressed in a tight line. Tommy smirks, watching Joel’s reaction. It’s too strong not to mean anything and they both know it.

“Does it matter?” Joel asks with defiance, taking the question head on, not denying anything.

Tommy watches his brother, not blinking for a few moments, and then says in a calm tone, a smile dancing on his lips,

“Yeah, I’d say it matters.”

Joel keeps his eyes on the beer bottle, hoping that Tommy will drop the interrogation.

Yeah, right!

“Did you meet her during one of your club outings?”

Joel’s heart does a somersault in his stomach and he lifts his widened eyes at the younger man who’s sitting there with a sly smile on his face.

Oh how much Joel regrets that time he got shitfaced and told Tommy about his ‘hobby’ as you call it. He wanted to boast how easy it was for him to pick up girls there and Tommy didn’t judge him that time, just laughed and asked a few questions. Joel struggles to remember which ones. They both had never mentioned it ever again and Joel hoped that the memories of that conversation evaporated from Tommy’s intoxicated mind. Apparently they didn’t.

“Tommy….” Joel gruffs with warning in his tone, his hand gripping the bottle tighter. The younger man raises his hands and chuckles,

“Hey, s’not my business. You’re a big boy, Joel. You know what you’re doing. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.” He shrugs and finishes his drink in one gulp.

“I won’t,” Joel mumbles and quickly changes the subject, the night taking its usual course.

Only when they leave the bar and wait for an uber Joel asks Tommy when he can come to check the car out. The younger man smirks and offers the next day.

****

They meet after work and Joel shakes on the deal with Tommy. The car is a little worn out, but it’s in a very decent condition. Still Joel decides to take some extra time to change the oil or the tyres if necessary and to drive you to the college one last time. Maybe he’s stalling, maybe he hates the idea of not seeing you regularly, so checking the car is just an excuse but he’ll never admit to it. Even to himself.

As always in life plans can’t keep up with changes and one morning Joel sees your name pop up on his phone screen. He turns the tv off and frowns, nerves tightening his chest as he immediately assumes the worst. He quickly picks up.

"You sick?" Joel asks as soon as he hears your croaky "Hi".

"Yeah, how'd you know? Are you spying on me?"

"‘cause you sound like shit," Joel sighs and sits straight, ready to spring into action.

"Aw, thanks." Your tone is sarcastic and for a second Joel fears he's offended you but then your lovely laugh flows through the speaker until another coughing fit grips you. Fear for you makes his stomach churn and he decides to drive to your house right away but then realizes that he’s got no idea where you’re staying these days.

When you stop coughing, Joel asks,

"What d'you need? Text me your address, I'll be there."

You're silent for a few seconds and then you reply, your voice soft.

"Thank you, Joel. But I have everything, don't worry. I just... I called to say that I'm not going to classes tomorrow."

"Oh." Joel nods as if you can see him. He should be relieved — the temptation to pull you on his lap and fuck you senseless in his truck isn't going to entice him. Besides, he could work on the car and get it ready for you by the time you feel better.

But Joel doesn't need to search his soul too deeply to realize that a sudden heavy feeling weighing on his chest is sadness. He's upset that he won't be able to drive you one more time, spend time with you, talk to you, listen to your voice.

"Joel?" You call his name, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. You need rest. Stay in bed and tell me your address. Please, sweetheart."

"I am in bed and ... Sounds like you really wanna join me here,” you purr and Joel rolls his eyes — now it’s neither the time nor the place to flirt with him, yet his cock disagrees and twitches in his pants.

“You shouldn’t come, you’ll catch whatever I have.”

“Address,” Joel says shortly and you half-sigh half-moan in his ear.

“Mmm, love when you go all dom on me.”

You taunt Joel and he grips his phone, breathing heavily. He feels his cheeks burn, his muscles tense up, you evoke a usual reaction in him — like a tornado is lifting him off the ground.

Little minx keeps playing even sick, he thinks. Yeah, being friends with you is really not an option when every time you flirt with him, his whole being wants to pounce on you right then and there.

Finally you give him the address and Joel says he’ll be there in an hour or so.

He goes to the kitchen and gets to cooking.

****

An hour later he’s at your place. Or your friend’s place rather. He wonders if you talked about him, if they know about your trips, about the kiss… Girls tell everything to each other but maybe you’re embarrassed of him. Probably so.

Joel rings the bell and soon you open the door. His chest fills with warmth when he sees you but then his smile falls — you look really sick. He wants to grab you and get you to his place, so he could take care of you and tend to all your needs.

“Hey,” you croak, wrapping yourself tighter in a fuzzy robe.

Joel sighs,

“Damn…”

“Do I look that bad,” you smile weakly and hide the lower part of your face behind the collar.

You look like an angel. Always. Joel wants to say. “No, no. You.. look sick, s’all. Are you runnin’ a fever?”

“Nah, I don’t think so.” You shake your head and then cough again.

Joel furrows his brows.

“You think? Have you measured it?”

“No. M’not sure we have a thermometer.”

“What?” Joel’s brows shoot up as you shrug your shoulders, looking guilty under his disappointed stare. Joel feels bad — being told off is the last thing you need right now, so he decides to act.

“Ok, let’s take care of you.” Joel walks inside the house without an invitation, not caring about manners.

You gawk at him but the corners of your lips are turned up, your eyes are sparkling with glee.

“Come in, I guess,” you laugh and then gasp softly when Joel places his palm on your forehead. Your lips part as you’re staring up at him but don’t pull away.

Joel’s face stays serious, despite an ocean raging in his stomach at the sensation of your skin.

“Seems fine,” he declares after a few seconds and his big hand leaves your head.

Then he throws a quick look around and asks,

“Where’s the kitchen?”

You nod in the right direction and Joel throws his boots off and strides there.

“You can go to bed. I’ll bring you soup.”

“Soup?!” you gasp, padding after him.

“Yeah, it’ll get you on your feet in no time.”

Joel walks into the kitchen and puts a bag on the kitchen island. He pushes a box of Cheerios sitting on the surface out of the way and raises an eyebrow at you as you sit on a stool.

“‘S pure sugar. Don’t eat this shit.”

“They’re not mine,” you grumble, “Sam loves them.”

Joel shakes his head, mentally judging your housemate, and pulls the biggest container he could find in his house out of the bag.

“Oh my god, Joel! It’ll last me a week!”

“Nah, you’ll finish it quickly I promise you. Not to brag but .. S’really good.”

He searches for a bowl and a ladle in the cabinets and after finding them pours some soup.

You look down at the golden liquid in front of you, lean down to smell it and then hum.

“You’ve just made it? For me?” You ask, grabbing a spoon.

“Yeah. Doesn’t take long. Plus I cooked it a million times before. It’s my mother’s recipe,” Joel says with a soft smile. “She always made it for me and Tommy and then I treated Sarah with it when she’d get sick.”

Your lips spread into a smile as you’re listening to him then you start eating.

“Mmmm,” you gush. “It’s delicious, Joel. Thank you.”

You put one spoon of soup after another in your mouth and Joel watches you with a content smile, pride expanding his chest.

Joel’s mood lights up as he sees that you’re living in a nice house, much nicer than your dad’s, especially considering the fucker isn’t here to mistreat you. Despite being ill, you’re safe and Joel knows you’re going to get better soon.

“What was your mom like?” You ask, interrupting his thoughts, and push the empty bowl away.

“Another helping?” Joel asks and you shake your head.

“No, thanks. I’m full.”

“She was the kindest person I’d known,” Joel says without a trace of doubt. He grabs the bowl and walks to the sink to give it a wash.

“I’ll do it,” you offer hurriedly but Joel motions for you to get back on your seat.

He faces the sink and keeps talking,

“She loved me and Tommy very much. Our father… he was a handful but she always protected us. She tried to soften him when we’d fuck up. Didn’t always work but at least she tried.”

Joel chuckles bitterly and then he hears your deep sigh.

“Sometimes I’m glad that my mom didn’t see what happened to our family after she…” you clear your throat and add, “it’s better she never knew.”

Joel returns the bowl to the cabinet and comes back, only the kitchen island dividing you two. He wants to give you a hug but feels he’d be overstepping.

Your tone gets colder as you say,

“He called. Two days ago.”

‘The asshole?!’ Joel wants to growl but instead asks, “Your father?” You nod and Joel grips the counter with his fingers, anger burning his chest with hot iron.

“He feels bad, he says. For throwing me out. Wants me to move back home.”

Joel clenches his jaw, the knuckles of his hands whiten. You can’t go back, he thinks. He won’t let you. Not after the scene he witnessed. He wouldn’t find peace knowing that you live with that man again.

To Joel’s relief you sigh and mutter,

“I said no. I’m finally free,” your tired eyes are glossy as you lift them up to Joel’s face. “Yeah, it’s harder… so much harder. I depended on him a lot as it turned out… but I can breathe with my whole chest now.”

Joel’s face softens and leans down, placing his forearms on the surface.

“How d’he react?” He asks and sees a veil of sadness pass over your face. Staring down at your hands you reply,

“He wasn’t happy.” You sigh again and your voice trembles as you murmur, “Whatever.”

You seem to be on the verge of tears and Joel walks around the island and comes up to you.

“You did the right thing,” he says, placing his hand on your shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. “I doubt he’ll ever change, sweetheart.”

“No, he won’t,” you croak, staring ahead. “But I can’t make myself hate him, you know.”

For a few seconds you both are silent until you ask, “Your dad… he was like mine, yeah?”

Joel remembers the beating his father called up-bringing and nods, his brows furrowed.

“Yeah.”

You look up at Joel, your teary eyes searching for answers.

“Then tell me… does the voice ever go away?”

“What voice?” Joel mumbles, slowly drowning in your beautiful and sad eyes.

“The one telling me that I deserved all of that.”

Joel’s chest tightens, compassion for you overtaking him, and wishing nothing else but to comfort you right now, he pulls you into a hug. You slide off the stool and push your face into his flannel-covered chest. Joel’s heart breaks as you’re sobbing quietly in his arms, clenching his shirt with your fingers. Painful memories of his own past sting his soul and he presses his cheek to your head, trying to alleviate the ache.

“It does go away, darlin’,” Joel lies, rubbing your back with his palms. “It will.”

When you stop crying and pull away, Joel looks into your reddened sleepy eyes and offers,

“Let’s get you to bed.”

You rasp something like “yeah, wouldn’t you want that,” and pad to your room.

Your bedroom looks like a standard guest room except for your things scattered around here and there. Joel smiles when his eyes land on the wooden cat on your nightstand.

“You takin’ good care of him?” He jokes, nodding at the figurine he carved for you.

“It’s a she,” you glare at him with a fake offence and then give him a wide smile. “I pet it every time before I go to sleep. And I think of you.”

Your gaze is soft but he notices a flush of fire behind your eyes.

“Tuck me in,” you purr, getting in bed.

Joel rolls his eyes but still walks up and tucks your blanket for you. The way you’re staring up at him, lying under the covers, makes his whole body vibrate. You look warm and sleepy, soft and sweet, he craves to touch you, hold you, kiss you…

“Joel,” you say his name quietly, so sensually it sends shivers down his spine. “Can I ask you something?”

Joel narrows his eyes at you, fully aware of how provocative your questions can be.

“You can… can’t promise I’ll answer.”

He gives you a lopsided smile, standing over you with his hands on his hips, hoping that you’ll spare him this time. You react with a weak giggle.

“Ok. Tell me…do you still go to Paradise?”

Joel drops his eyes at the mention of the club and shifts on his feet

“No,” he gruffs, shaking his head. Your lips twitch and it seems that you like his answer yet you don’t drop the topic.

“Why not?”

Joel’s eyes involuntarily travel down your body covered by the blanket as he lies,

“Have no time. Too much work.”

You hum, not tearing your curious gaze off the man over you, and then murmur,

“Was I the last girl you picked up there?”

Joel stares at you, fully aware what you’re getting at, and after a long sigh he says,

“Yeah, guess so.”

“Huh,” you hum, turning on your side, quickly covering the lower part of your face with the blanket but Joel still notices the apples of your cheeks rise, he sees a smile in your eyes.

“Ok, m’gonna go. Get some sleep.”

You throw a cheeky glance at him and then say,

“Yes, sir.”

Joel feels his neck and cheeks burn, his heart starts beating faster, and scared that he’ll pop a boner, he walks to the door.

“The soup’s still hot. Have some more when you’re up.”

You mewl a quiet “ok, thanks” and flutter your eyes closed.

Joel returns to the kitchen, tidies up the counters as quietly as possible, trying not to wake you up. Then he walks to the fridge and looks at the photos on the door.

Hmm Joel places his hands on his hips and shakes his head. It’s mostly party pics. Laughing young men and women in their twenties, drinking, dancing, making silly faces. He notices you in some of them, looking tipsy and hot as hell.

There is one particular pic that grabs his attention- a family at the beach. Parents and two kids. The girl, your friend apparently, looks your age. She’s smiling at the camera, a volleyball tucked under her arm. She seems sweet. Joel hopes that she’s a good friend to you. The girl’s brother is standing next to her, flexing his arm muscles for the pic. Joel chuckles. He looks younger, sixteen or so. They both look happy.

Joel remembers the picture of your family he saw in your house. How sad you got when he stopped to look at it. Maybe your friends can be a better family for you? Maybe he can be someone who protects you, helps you, gives you some kind of support? No, it seems crazy. His feelings would surely get in the way and sooner or later your flirting would make him cross the line. He takes a deep sigh and goes to get his bag.

Joel checks on you one more time, peeking through your bedroom door. You’re sleeping peacefully on your side, your breathing a bit loud because of your stuffy nose, but you seem fine otherwise. He contemplates watching you sleep for some time but immediately realizes how creepy it’d be, so he imagines pressing a kiss to your beautiful lips and then leaves.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future parts♥️

Series Masterlist | MASTERLIST

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Joel calls you the next morning to discuss when he can drop by to check out your boiler. When he hears your sleepy voice, warmth spreads all over his body. He wonders if you’re feeling it, too — the pull, the connection between them that was so strong the night before. But you wipe off a smile off his face when you scold him for waking you up.

“Could’ve just texted me, Joel. Who even calls these days?” you grumble, huffing and puffing like a cute hedgehog in his ear.

After a curt apology Joel tells you when he’s free and you hum, probably trying to gather your thoughts. Half awake you start rambling on about the best day and time for his visit, your week busy with work and classes, not aware of Joel sitting in his office with a dreamy expression on his face, lost in your voice, imagining you lying in bed, warm and sleepy, barely clothed….

“Joel? Are you there?”

Your frustrated voice shakes him and he fidgets in his rolling chair, adjusting his growing bulge.

“Yeah, yeah, the connection’s bad. Can you say that again?”

“Ughh… How about Thursday? At 4?”

“Good for me. I’ll be there.”

You cheer, making Joel chuckle.

“Thank you for agreeing to help, Joel,” you purr, seeming much warmer than at the beginning of the call.

“No problem, sweetheart.”

Joel hears a half sigh-half moan at your end and his imagination draws you whimpering in your bed, your hand moving rhythmically under the sheets as you’re pleasuring yourself, listening to his voice. Shattering the hot image into pieces, you parody his “sweetheart” in a mockingly deep voice and hang up after saying through giggles, “See you, playboy.”

Joel rolls his eyes but after talking to you it's hard to shake off the spell, so he just sits at his desk, staring at your name on the cracked screen of his phone. You teased him about it yesterday. Joel’s always been a practical guy, if it still rings and sends texts it’s good enough, but maybe after getting a new one he could ask you to help him with those new features he knows nothing about.

He imagines you sitting close to him, your shoulders touching, explaining how the damn thing works, in that sexy breathy voice of yours that makes his cock fill up. You pout your pretty lips or roll your eyes every time Joel asks you to explain again and it’ll surely take ages so you’ll end up on his lap - ‘s’more comfortable like this, baby.’ In no time you’ll be sitting on his cock, your back to his chest, his new phone forgotten, dancing on his huge dick. Or even better!

He’ll put all those fancy cameras to good use and make a video of your stuffed pussy, swallowing his shaft again and again, his balls glistening with your juices.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Joel growls in the quiet of his office and starts hastily unbuckling his belt. He’s daydreamed himself into a huge boner that’s now tenting his jeans half an hour before a meeting with a potential client.

Wrapping his hand around the leaking cock, Joel curses, hoping no one will come into his office. The lust for you hasn’t given him time to lock the door.

After that morning Joel doesn’t contact you for three days and you don’t text him either, but his thoughts return to you again and again. What are you up to? What’s on your mind? Is he?

When Joel’s in his kitchen, his imagination immediately draws you there, like the night you visited him, but now you’re bent over the dining table and he’s fucking you deep and slow.

Joel’s surprised his cock hasn’t fallen off yet- it seems to be always hard, so he jerks off several times a day just to function as a member of society. It hasn’t been this bad since … forever. Maybe since he was a teen.

You got your tiny claws deep into his soul and body, so Joel contemplates driving to Paradise to find a cure but for some weird reason it feels like cheating. Joel reminds himself that you are not his, he owes you nothing as well as you owe nothing to him. You’re not his! Not! His!

On Thursday at 3:50 pm Joel parks his truck in your driveway, gets out and takes a toolbox and a toolbelt out of the back.

One thing he knows for sure - women love a man wearing a toolbelt. As soon as he puts this thing on, he turns completely irresistible to them.

He might have even used this effect to bed a few chicks. Not that he plans to bed you, but it'd be nice to impress you, see lust in your beautiful eyes, feel that you want him. He secretly hopes that the sight of him will make you all wet and needy...

Ugh! He's been at your house for a minute and his cock's already twitching like crazy.

Joel adjusts himself, puts the toolbelt on and clangs, striding to your door.

When you open it, he smiles with triumph - your eyes immediately dart to his hips decorated by the leather accessory.

"Howdy," Joel greets you and pops his knee out, subconsciously posing to increase the effect. You're ogling him shamelessly, seemingly speechless, but as soon as your thirsty gaze lands on Joel's smug face, you narrow your eyes and smirk,

"Wow, Joel. I asked you to check the boiler. Not to build me a house."

Joel doesn't mind your remark. You've collected yourself fast enough, but he hasn't missed the way you bit your lip, staring at his long heavy tools.

"I like bein' prepared for anythin’, sweetheart."

Joel shrugs your comment off and steps inside the house.

In the hall he puts the tool box on the floor and covertly checks you out - you’re wearing shorts and an oversized shirt and Jesus all mighty!! his heart rate skyrockets when he notices your hardened nipples under the soft material. He uses all his will power not to stare at your tits, but they’re calling for him.

’Nice to meet you, girls,’ Joel smirks, excited that you’re not wearing a bra.

Obviously you need some time to take him in as well — your gaze is sliding over his black t-shirt, worn specifically to show off his muscular arms and chest. His impressive bulge framed with the belt is a sight to see, so Joel lets your eyes wander while he’s taking a fast look around.

From what he can see, your house is modest but tidy, the furniture’s old fashioned and with his contractor’s eye Joel notices a few things which need fixing, but he doesn’t say anything out of tact. You shift on your feet and when he turns to you, he finds you fumbling with your fingers and chewing on your lip.

“Dad’s at work,” you say, your voice quiet and unusually insecure. “Want a tour?”

Feeling that you’d prefer him to refuse, Joel shakes his head.

“No, s’ok, sweetheart. I’m seein’ my brother‘s after this. Wanna start right away.”

”Of course,” you give him a relieved smile and motion with your hand to follow you.

Walking through the hall Joel notices a photo hanging on the wall and pauses in front of it. A man and a woman with a little girl at the zoo gates. He immediately recognizes you by your eyes - they’re full of mischief and he smiles at the thought that you still have this fiery glimmer in them. The family is grinning in the picture and Joel’s heart fills with warmth.

“We used to be happy.” Your tone is cold, when you softly speak standing a couple of steps away from Joel, not looking at the picture, your gaze downcast.

Suddenly Joel feels bad for stopping at the photo. As if he hurt you on purpose. Of course it’s not the case but he should’ve known. You told him about your loss, about your rocky relationship with your dad, so why couldn’t he just walk past it? He wanted to look at you being happy.

You turn around and keep walking. Joel follows, silently.

“Boiler — Joel, Joel — boiler,” you introduce him to the heater with a smile, as you two step into the bathroom and Joel chuckles putting the toolbox on the floor.

“No need for the introduction. We used to have this model before our current one,” he says, placing his hands on his belted hips.

You hum, your worried eyes fixed on the heater as if it’s gonna jump and bite you.

“It’s quite old. You think we'll have to replace it?”

He hears a trace of panic in your voice and rushes to reassure you.

“No, not necessarily. S’a reliable model. I’m gonna take a look and tell ya.”

“Ok. Thank you again, Joel.” You give him a warm smile, making his heart skip a beat and his cock jump in his jeans.

He gets to work immediately — removes the cover to look inside and you gasp,

“Woah, looks complicated.”

You’re staring at it with your eyes slightly widened and Joel chuckles.

“Ain’t that complicated. I can teach you a thing or two.”

“Nooo, I’ll leave it to the professional.”

You giggle, shaking your head, and Joel's chest expands when you call him that. He relishes the respect you finally give him. It’s a nice respite from all the teasing you’ve been doing.

“Can you turn the water on for me?” He asks, looking back at you. You nod and go to the sink to do what Joel has asked.

‘Good girl,’ that’s what he wants to say but shuts his mouth just in time.

You come up to Joel and ask, lowering your voice to a whisper,

”D’you hear it?”

You tilt your head to the side, raising your ear up like a cute dog listening to the sound, as Joel’s staring at you.

He’s not listening to shit right now. Your body inches from his makes him forget what the hell he’s doing here. You smell like flowers and sin and he takes a deep breath, already drunk on it. His gaze travels from your beautiful eyes to your glittery lips.

What if he took your face in his hands and leaned down to kiss you? Would you pull away or kiss him back? Would you let him take this shirt and shorts off you? Oh, to have you naked right now… He’d do anything to make you moan for him.

“Joel?” Your voice grabs his attention and he blinks rapidly, looking away from you. “I said ‘do you hear it?’”

Your cheeky smile tells him that you’ve caught him drooling over you. Joel furrows his brows, takes a step away from you and clears his throat.

“Yeah, I hear it. Let me check…”

“Uh-huh,” you smirk.

Feeling his cheeks burn under your scrutinizing gaze, Joel hastily turns away and stares at the boiler. He tries to gather his thoughts for a few seconds but it’s hard when he feels your piercing eyes on his back.

A few seconds later, you mumble “Fuck!” but when he turns around you’re already gone.

Joel furrows his brows at your sudden disappearance but gets to work, thinking that maybe you forgot about something cooking in the kitchen.

It takes him just a few minutes to identify the problem — a loose bracket that’s vibrating every time the boiler works. He tightens the screws and the noise disappears. Happy that he’s helped you and excited to let you know that there’s no need to replace the boiler, he gets his things and rushes to find you.

When Joel steps back into the hall he hears two voices - yours and a male one. It’s probably your father, Joel thinks, walking through the hall but stops in his tracks when he hears shouting.

”I asked him to help with the boiler, that’s all! We can’t afford calling a guy, you know it!”

Joel hates to eavesdrop but hearing his name draws his curiosity.

“Yeah? And the fucker agreed to help you simply out of kindness, huh? Or did you promise him something else as a payment, you slut?!”

Joel grits his teeth, his grip tightens around the handle of his tool box, before he drops it to the floor and strides through the hall on his way to the kitchen. The asshole needs to be taught some manners!

“Fuck you!” Joel hears you spit back.

“What d’you say?”

Joel’s too late. A slap rings loudly in the quiet house and when Joel storms into the kitchen he finds you standing at the counter with fire burning in your eyes, your hand pressed to your cheek, the asshole towering over you.

The man’s head darts to Joel but he has no time to react before Joel grabs him by the collar and throws him away from you.

You gasp when your father hits the table behind him and almost falls over but stays on his feet. Joel steps up to the man and growls.

“The fuck is wrong with ya?!”

Your father looks shaken but doesn’t back off, their heated faces inches apart. Glaring at Joel he hisses through his teeth,

“Get the hell out of my house.”

Joel pokes his chest with his index finger, his nostrils flaring, his voice full of ire.

“If you lay your finger on her ever again, I’ll break both of your legs, you son of a bitch.”

Every word Joel throws at the man is filled with rage, his expression threatening, and probably sensing that Joel’s one step away from making good on his threat, your dad’s defiance crumbles.

“Fine, then I’ll leave.”

He gets out of Joel’s face, and after throwing a glare your way, stomps out of the room.

“The fuck’s wrong with him?” Joel turns around, his hands balling into fists. He’s breathing heavily, infuriated with your father’s horrible actions. He hears a car drive off outside and asks you, his voice still gruff,

“You ok?”

His eyes are darting over your body and face, a fear that the bustard has hurt you grips Joel’s heart, but you’re avoiding his eyes, still pressing your palm to the slapped cheek.

“I’m fine. S’all my fault,” you mumble and Joel takes a step toward you, brows furrowed.

“What are you sayin’? How is it your fault? Sweetheart, I had no idea… how can he…?“

Joel can’t even articulate how much he hates what he’s just witnessed, but you shrug his concern off.

“I knew he wouldn’t wanna see you in our house. And he shouldn’t have, but he left work early and… ughh,” you growl, your shoulders slumped.

“Why wouldn’t he wanna see me? I don’t even know him.”

You sigh and finally look up at Joel. The light in your eyes, the one that burns bright whenever Joel sees you, seems dimmer now, not as bright as stars but as their mere reflection in muddy water.

“Yeah, you don’t know each other, but he’s heard a lot about you. You’re both single fathers, so people used to compare him to you. ‘Joel has his shit together and you…’,” you sigh with your whole body and add quietly. “I guess he tried at one point but …” Then you drop your head and pause, looking miserable.

It’s the first time Joel sees you like this, lost and hurt, angry and tired.

Wishing to comfort you more than anything right now, Joel comes up to you, so close your feet touch, and gently takes your chin between his thumb and an index finger. You softly mewl when he pulls your hand off your face and sees your swollen cheek.

”Fuckin’ jerk,” Joel mumbles and fire burns his stomach, his jaw clenches. He wants to find the fucker and beat the shit out of him. For calling you a slut, for hitting you, for being a shit dad to such a wonderful, funny, sweet, beautiful…you.

Joel closes his eyes for a second and takes a deep breath, calming down. You need someone by your side right now. You need him.

“D’you have frozen peas or somethin’? To stop the swellin’?” he asks, gliding his calloused thumb over your chin.

You don’t reply, instead you flutter your eyelashes, staring at Joel, letting him get lost in your beautiful eyes. Your gaze is soft and a little timid at first, but soon your pupils dilate and Joel witnesses fire lighting up in the depth of your soul.

Your lips twitch and Joel hopes to see your smile, cocky and challenging as always, but you don’t give him that. Instead your gaze slides to his lips, his chest, until you’re looking down. Joel follows your line of vision and sees you eyeing his crotch.

His chest rumbles with a low growl as you slowly bring your hand to his belt.

“Sweetheart…,” he has time to whisper before you pull his hammer out of the tool belt and lift it to your face. You press the cold head to your heated cheek and air leaves Joel’s lungs. He didn’t even notice he was holding his breath.

“Jesus, darlin’,” Joel mumbles, his cheeks and neck on fire. “Better?”

“So much,” you reply, holding the hammer close to your face with a mischievous smile dancing on your pretty lips.

‘Little minx’s back to playin’ with him. It’s a good sign.’

Joel chuckles and puts his hands on his hips. He’s watching you for a few seconds, and then asks, concern loud in his voice,

“What’s gonna happen when he comes back? Wanna stay at my place for a few days?”

You raise your brows and Joel quickly explains, raising his hands up, palms to you,

“No, not like that. No funny business. I’m jus’ worried about leavin’ you here… with him.”

You bite your lower lip and Joel’s mind draws him a picture of you and him having breakfast in his kitchen, you’re sleepy and barely clothed, and his cock twitches happily, but his mind immediately tells him that it’s a bad idea.

“Or I can take you to your friend? Is there anyone else you can stay with?”

You narrow your eyes at him and Joel drops his gaze down to his feet, nervously clenching his hands. He’s scared that your piercing eyes will see through him and you’ll realize why he’s changed his mind - there’s no chance he’d be able to control himself if you lived with him. And he needs to control himself.

You hum and put the hammer back into Joel’s belt, your cheek looking less swollen already.

“It’s very kind of you but… Don’t worry about it. He’s gonna come back and ask for an apology as always.”

“He better,” Joel growls. ”And my threat still stands. I’ll pay for his hospital bills if I have to, but he better not treat you like that ever again.”

Joel shifts his jaw and crosses his arms on his chest, meaning every word. You give him a little smile and then your gaze drops down, as you ask.

“Your father… he was … like that too, right?”

Joel sighs deeply and nods.

“Yeah. Was his method of teachin’ us I reckon. Me and my brother. Fucked up, I know but …. Maybe we deserved some tough love. But not you. You definitely don’t deserve it.”

You raise your eyes at Joel and his heart pangs when he sees tears in them.

“How do you know—,” you croak, your brows pinched, “that I don’t deserve it?”

You’re staring at each other, your waiting eyes trained on him, but Joel’s so stunned, he feels lost for words. It’s like you asked him why two plus two is four.

“You don’t,” Joel says to you confidently, but your bitter chuckle tells him you don’t believe him. So he places his hands on your shoulders and searches for your eyes.

“You don’t,” he repeats softly, putting all his heart into these two words, wishing you’d never ask yourself that.

Suddenly you lean forward and wrap your arms around Joel’s torso.

“Thank you,” you whisper, nuzzling his chest and Joel freezes, overwhelmed by your body pressed to his. His heartbeat increases, his breathing fastens.

‘Calm down, it’s just a hug,’ he lies to himself and hugs you back. He presses his cheek to your head and you lean into him fully.

His body’s reaction to you isn’t a surprise. He’s been dreaming of fucking you for days and it takes everything from him not to buck his hips into you.

‘Don’t ruin it,’ he begs his cock.

You’re standing like this for some time. A minute? Two? Five? Joel has no idea but he relishes every second of feeling your body, comforting you, holding you like the most precious thing.

It scares the hell out of him, but he can’t lie to himself anymore. Not when he feels a tsunami of emotions as he’s holding you close, emotions he hasn’t felt in ages.

His breath hitches when you tilt your head up and your wet lashes flutter against his neck. Then your lips brush over his skin there, it’s just a fleeting sensation but Joel groans, a shiver runs through his body, and of course, you feel it, of course, you know what you’re doing to him right now.

He wants, needs you to pull away, needs you to be the reasonable one, but you don’t make it easy for him. Instead you press your soft lips to a spot under his jaw, then drag them higher against his scruff, your caress gentle and slow as if happening by accident. Joel’s heart is pounding in his ears, his body’s on fire, as he’s waiting for the inevitable with both terror and excitement.

And it happens.

You kiss him.

The dam he’s half heartedly been trying to build collapses and Joel pulls you into him with poorly contained desire, crashing his mouth against yours.

With his hand cradling the back of your head, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, to taste and feel you better. His cock is straining his jeans now, achy and hard, but his discomfort is the last thing on his mind now. The only thing is you, here in his arms, your tongue sliding over his, your lips caressing him.

“Joel,” you mewl into his mouth and your needy sound wakes Joel up. He parts from your lips and stares into your blown out eyes. The tears on your lashes act like a slap across his own face.

The fuck am I doin’? Your father’s hurt you, and now I’m usin’ your vulnerability to shove my tongue down your throat?

He feels disgusted with himself and sorry for you, being surrounded by assholes. Your father and him.

“I shouldn’t,” he croaks, breathing heavily. “You’re upset. I can’t.”

His voice is strained with desire, his arms are still holding you but in a second they’re by his sides.

You’re blinking your tears away, staring up at Joel with your brows pinched, looking like a kicked puppy, and Joel’s heart breaks seeing you like that, so he takes a step back and turns away from you.

Fuck…

For the next few seconds you don’t say anything. The silence in the room is deafening, it's suffocating Joel, but he has no right to break it. Only you do.

“Funny how you can fuck a random club girl but not me. Guess you just wanted me to keep my mouth shut about your little secret. That’s why you’ve been so nice.”

You’re hurt, anger’s cutting through your every word. Joel doesn’t know what to do. It’s not true but to deny what you've said will mean to pull you back, to give you hope that you two have a chance and you clearly don’t.

You deserve to meet someone better. Someone who deserves you. And it’s definitely not him.

“I got carried away. Sorry.”

Not looking at you, Joel walks to the hall and grabs his tool box where he’s left it.

“The boiler works fine now,” he mumbles, pausing at the kitchen on his way to the door. You’re standing with your back to him, looking out of the kitchen window. You’re silent and Joel does what you clearly want him to do - he leaves.

“Hey!”

Joel’s loading his tools back in his truck when you call for him. He turns around and sees you standing in the doorway, your arms crossed in front of your chest, your lips in a tight line, your eyes cold. It hurts Joel to see you like this.

“Yeah?” he croaks, shifting on his feet.

“Have fun dealing with your boner,” you bite and shut the door with a loud bang. Joel sighs and runs his hand over his face. He hates himself.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future parts💞

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