Waiting for Rain Read Online Free Page A

need to speak to you about.” I nodded dumbly.
    He turned as if remembering something. “By the way, there’s a team coming in tomorrow to start building the Canterbury Bar. I took the quote from that carpenter who lives outside of town. He seems like a nice enough chap, and his price was reasonable. So he’ll be moving his equipment and team in tomorrow morning.”
    I nodded feebly, managing to squeak out, “Sure, Simon. Thanks for letting me know and for stopping by.” After closing the door, I set the plate and the cushion down on the bed and took a few deep breaths to try and center myself. I looked down at my hardened cock and gave it a light slap. It felt really good, despite it supposedly being a punishment.
    “What the fuck was all that about?” I asked. “Are we that far down the abstinence line that I get turned on by my boss? God, the way he was looking at me. I had no idea….” My voice rose to a slight yowl. “Christ, what if he bloody saw it? What the hell then?”
    I was hyperventilating by this time, deciding a cold shower would probably be torment enough for us both. I stalked into the small bathroom with its shower, turning the nozzle full on to cold. Dropping my clothes, I stepped in, yelping as the cold water hit my skin. But it did no good. My cock still stood rampant and needy. I took hold of myself and stroked it gently, from root to tip, closing my eyes, trying not to think of Simon. Instead I thought of the brawny men I’d watched on the television. Before long, I was spurting all over the shower wall with a chest that heaved with the intensity of my climax. I moaned loudly, leaning my forehead against the tiles, my hand still clasped around my semiflaccid member. I closed my eyes.
    What in hell’s name had that all been about? Christ, I really needed to get laid.

Chapter 2
    Rain
     
    “M OTHERFUCKER !” I snarled as I hit my thumb for the second time. I sucked the swollen digit, tasting blood. My business partner and straight best friend, Lucas Wright, chuckled. He was a broad, short man, with shoulder-length blond hair and hands the size of hams. My dog, a black Labrador called Sheba, looked at me in disdain. She was used to my bad language when I was working in my barn. The current job was making an ornate bookcase for an elderly spinster’s “library,” a small, dingy room with wall-to-wall books on the floor.
    “Rain, your mind is not on your game today, mate.” His soft West Country burr echoed in my ears. “Best you give it a miss for a while. We need to get off down to town anyway, to the Duck and Drake. That bar is going to be a bitch to build. That Simon guy is an absolute stickler for detail.”
    I nodded. “He definitely knows what he wants. I had to draw that damned bar half a dozen times before he decided which design he liked. I have to say he has good taste. It’s the one I would have said fits the space the best, and the hotel. Cherrywood will look great in that room.”
    I winced, putting down the hammer I’d been using to maul my thumb. Lucas looked at me, and I sighed. “Lucas, I’m fine. My mind is just a little off, that’s all.”
    “Rain, getting a postcard from your ex-lover in Monte Carlo saying, ‘Wish you were here, having a great fucking time’ is enough to put anyone off their stride. Especially because we know Tommy is probably definitely having a great ‘ fucking ’ time—”
    I growled. “Enough, already. Yes, he’s an arsehole, and yes, I’m better off without him, but I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind.”
    I stretched, feeling the muscles in my back pull straight, my legs giving a scream of protest. Rivulets of sweat ran down my naked chest. It was warm in the barn, and I worked shirtless when I could.
    “Let me go wash up and make myself more presentable. Then we can get into town. I’m looking forward to working on this bar.” I had a passion for creating beautiful things out of wood, and I was good at it.