Scr*wed Tight (Hammers and Veils Book 3) Read online

  Scr*wed Tight

  Hammers and Veils

  Frankie Love

  C.M. Seabrook

  Contents

  Copyright

  Scr*wed Tight

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  Preview

  About C.M.

  About Frankie

  Copyright

  Edited by My Brother’s Editor

  Cover by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Copyright © and 2019 by Frankie Love and C.M. Seabrook

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Scr*wed Tight

  Hammers and Veils Series

  I’ve been in love with Jenna Blake since she was twelve years old.

  Now she’s all grown up.

  And as off-limits as ever.

  Her brother is my best friend - she’s the one girl I can’t have.

  But when I show up to build her greenhouse, I realize I’m not alone in my forbidden desire.

  She wants me, too.

  Without her, I’m screwed.

  So damn tight.

  This job is suddenly about more than hammering in some nails.

  It’s about building a future with the only girl I’ve ever wanted.

  Dear Reader,

  The epitome of filthy-sweet, Screwed Tight is one dirty little book.

  Jenna is a virgin who takes innocence to a whole new level.

  Porter Smith is about to screwdrive-her in a way she’s been dreaming of her entire life!

  Sit tight and get ready to enjoy the drilling. ;)

  Xo, Frankie & Chantel

  Chapter One

  Porter

  “It’s my week off,” I mutter into my phone, knowing my friend and business partner’s most recent request is going to be a hell of a lot tougher than just building a damn greenhouse. Because it means spending one-on-one time with the man’s little sister.

  “Exactly,” Eli says. “When have you ever been able to sit still and just relax? Plus, you’d be doing me a favor. I’m a little tied up at the moment.”

  I grunt. More like he’s got his new wife tied up. Lucky son of a bitch. Not that I have any lascivious thoughts about Karis, but I am jealous that my friend has met the woman of his dreams, managed to put a ring on her finger, and a baby in her belly.

  Especially since the woman I want has a huge red flashing sign above her forehead that reads Off Limits.

  Sure, the whole falling for your best friend’s little sister may be cliché, hell I may have even been tempted to break the bro-code rule, if the brother in question wasn’t Eli Blake. I’ve seen what the man has done to any poor bastard who’s ever looked Jenna’s way. God forbid I give in to my cravings and do more than just look.

  In all fairness, I’ve been just as possessive of her. Because, the thought of any man getting close to her, touching her...shit, it stirs something primal inside me.

  “Fine,” I grumble, knowing that if I refuse to do the work for Jenna, it’ll just make Eli suspicious. The crazy thing is I want this job - any chance to be around her makes the world a better place - even if it’s torture.

  “Just be nice to her,” Eli says.

  “I’m always nice,” I growl.

  He laughs. “Come on, you’re not known for your charm. And you know how sheltered Jenna is - just be easy on her.”

  I grunt a reply, trying to hide my annoyance. All I’ve ever been to Jenna is polite, even though what I want to be is so much more. But I don’t trust myself around her. That’s why I keep her at arm’s length.

  Jenna has been like a little sister to me for the past ten years - too fucking bad I no longer see the twelve-year-old girl who used to follow me around like a puppy.

  Jenna is all woman now. And when I pull my truck to a stop in front of her little cottage and see her bent over her garden, I let out a low, painful moan.

  She’s wearing a pair of cut-off jeans that show off her round little ass, and a tight tank top that hugs all her curves. Her long dark hair is pulled up in a ponytail giving me a perfect view of her slim neck and profile. Those blue eyes meet mine as I get out of the truck, like always they brighten when they land on me, her lips spreading into a grin as she stands and pulls off her gardening gloves.

  “Hey, Porter.” Her sweet voice wraps around my cock.

  God, this is going to be torture. Sweet, fucking torture.

  “This place is looking great,” I tell her, looking around the blooming hostas, and azaleas, and clematis that climb the trellis - anywhere but at her. “You have a real green thumb.”

  “But I still can’t use a hammer or screwdriver.” She shoves her gloves in her back pocket. “I really appreciate you helping me with the greenhouse. I’ve gotten a lot of new business this year, and it would be great to grow my own perennials, rather than have to go to a nursery to buy them.”

  “Makes sense.” I rub the back of my neck and try not to notice how close she’s standing. And I sure as hell shouldn’t be noticing how her nipples poke out from her shirt.

  “So can I show you what I’m thinking?” she asks, licking her pink lips. For a second my cock twitches - is she thinking what I’m thinking? But the idea is tossed aside as quickly as it came - she’s leading me to the cleared area where she wants the greenhouse.

  “Eli sent me over the specs, were they your idea?”

  Jenna nods. “Yeah, I thought a basic plastic frame and mesh over it would be easiest.”

  I grunt. “You shouldn’t have what’s easiest. You deserve the best.”

  Jenna smirks. “That’s sweet, but I was going for affordable. I’m still trying to get this business off the ground.”

  I frown, looking at my phone. The plans Eli sent over are simple but aren’t built to last. When I put down a foundation, I want it to be solid. I want it to last. And yes, that’s a fucking metaphor. I’m not a player, I don’t sink my cock into any old thing. I know exactly who I want. And if I can’t have her, I don’t want anyone at all.

  “I can do better than this,” I tell her. “I have most of the lumber I’ll need in my supply yard at home.”

  “Eli won’t like you dipping into the company pot for his little sister.”

  I scowl, pushing my phone in my pocket. “This is on me.”

  “Why would you do this for me, Porter?” she asks, stepping closer. She has no idea how much it kills me to be so damn close to her. She smells like honeysuckle and sweet tea and I want to drink her up, all day long.

  Across from her, I feel so big, so overbearing. I’m six-foot-five, broad shoulders and growl more often than not. She’s a little thing, my palm would cover her back. She’s small enough to slip into my arms, light as a feather.

  “You’re like family.” My voice is rough from trying to hold back my need for her, and I know I must come off too harsh because she just nods, lowering her eyes.

  “Right. Like family.” She lets out a small sigh.

  For a moment I wonder if I just fucked up. She won’t look at me. I thought she’d be acting the opposite - pleased that I am going to build her a legit greenhouse.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I ask. It’s hard
to look at her. Her tits are perky, her tank top cropped and her belly bare. Fuck I want to run my hands all over her, but I step back.

  I know Jenna never dates and I lie to myself, saying it’s because deep down she knows what I know.

  That we belong together.

  She lifts her gaze, sighing. “No, Porter. You did everything exactly right. Just like always.”

  I swallow, trying to get a read on the girl who I’ve known more than half my life. “Alright then, guess it’s time to get to work.”

  She looks over at the flower bed she was weeding when I arrived. “I’ll just be over there, then...on my hands and knees.” Jenna licks her lips again and I wonder if she has any idea how fucking hot she looks when she does that. “In case you need anything, Porter. Anything from me at all.”

  Jenna walks away and my cock is throbbing. Holy hell, if that’s not an innuendo I don’t know what is.

  Now that Jenna Blake is all grown up, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands off her.

  I sure as hell want to tend her garden, that’s for damn fucking sure.

  Chapter Two

  Jenna

  God, the man is gorgeous. I know it’s wrong of me to be ogling my brother’s best friend, but it’s become a bad - or rather delicious - habit of mine. Because Porter Smith isn’t just hot, he’s...everything.

  Kind.

  Thoughtful.

  Not to mention he’s got this whole alpha, possessive thing going on.

  Friends growing up never understood my infatuation. Porter isn’t known for his sweet side - he’s gruff and rough... and it makes me so horny just thinking about his calloused hands running over my bare skin. He is all man - and I’m glad not every other woman sees it - I want to be the only woman who appreciates Porter for what he is. The ultimate alpha protector.

  To say I’ve been playing out this fantasy in my mind for my entire adult life would be correct.

  I want Porter Smith in a way that keeps me up at night ... in a way that makes me weak in the knees and short of breath.

  But I know Porter will never see me as more than just Eli’s little sister. Trust me, I’ve tried hard to get his attention.

  I thought that maybe once I got breasts, he’d look at me differently - but he’d just stopped looking. Still, I can’t get rid of the idea that maybe one day he’ll be mine. Maybe that’s why I’m twenty-two years old and still haven’t had a serious boyfriend. Or maybe it’s because every time I have tried dating someone, both Eli and Porter scare the guy away.

  But maybe...just maybe...he will take the bait. See me as a woman, not a kid sister.

  He said we’re practically family - sounds great to me. I wouldn’t mind marrying him and making it official. It’s all I’ve ever wanted - to be Porter Smith’s girl.

  I know he is looking at me as I walk over to the flower bed and get down on the ground to start weeding again. I didn’t exactly throw myself at him, but the words I used were meant to get his attention.

  Maybe I’m crazy, but I swear when he looked at me, he liked what he saw. My eyes had traveled to his groin and I saw his cock grow stiff at the sight of me.

  God, sitting here with my hands in the dirt, weeding this patch of earth is torture. I don’t want to be grabbing weeds and yanking them, I want to stroke Porter nice and slow. I want to run my hands through his dark blond hair, I want to make him mine.

  I groan. My pussy is desperate for relief. Maybe I should take a ten-minute break and head to my bedroom and take care of myself the way I always do, imagining myself with Porter. His rough hands on my skin, his lips devouring mine, his cock buried inside of me. I moan, my body aching more than ever to have all those fantasies come to life.

  “Everything alright?” Porter calls out.

  “Um, yeah, I’m totally fine!” God, apparently my groaning was louder than I thought. But I don’t care. I smile, thinking about how else I might get his attention. Show him that I am singularly focused.

  Maybe I should forget my bedroom, and just dive into my fantasy right here - see what he does then.

  I pull off my gardening gloves, entertaining the idea. My core tightens at the thought of getting nice and dirty here, with Porter. I close my eyes, breathing slowly as I imagine him naked, before me. God, I don’t need to circle my clit with my fingers to get off. In fact, I have never done that once in my life. When I say I’m saving myself for Porter Smith - I mean completely. I want him to touch my pussy, and him alone.

  I’ve found a way to work around. After lots of practice, I can orgasm with thoughts alone. I can sit here, hands on the ground and come just thinking about him.

  I clench my pussy, fast, faster. My mind on the one time I walked in on Porter in the bathroom. He was at our house when we were growing up a lot. And this particular time, he was naked in the bathroom, his hand wrapped around his cock, and I knew what he was doing. Getting off.

  He never saw me, but that vision has been the one and only way for me to orgasm. Like right now, I’m so close. I can picture his back to me, his perfect ass, his hand moving up and down his thickness. My mouth waters at the memory and then I feel the sweet relief.

  “Oh, oh, oh, god,” I pant, dropping my head back. The rush of pleasure runs over me and a smile crests my face.

  “You okay?” Porter is standing over me.

  “Mmmhmm.” It’s the only response I can manage. Oh my god, I can’t believe I just did that with him practically beside me. And now he’s hovering above me, his dark green eyes searching mine.

  “You scared me,” he says.

  Heat runs up my body, and I’m sure my cheeks are bright red.

  “Maybe you have heat stroke.” He takes my hand, and if I was hot before, my skin is now on fire. Heat races up my arm at his touch, and I want more - I want the real thing.

  “It’s nearing ninety degrees out today. How long have you been outside?” he asks gruffly, and I see the concern in his eyes, the way his expression turns all possessive and protective.

  I can’t focus, his big hands are still wrapped around mine and he is helping me to stand, and when one palm flattens on my back, I nearly come undone again.

  “Maybe I just need water,” I manage to say.

  Porter nods in agreement and he sets his hand on my back. I whimper, unable to control myself. His palm is like a blanket of heat and it makes me feel faint.

  He opens the backdoor of my cottage and pulls out a chair for me at the eating nook. “Sit,” he orders. God, he has no idea how much I like it when he tells me what to do.

  I watch him maneuver around my kitchen. He looks so big in here. I bought this little place with the inheritance money I received after my parents died two years ago. It’s a quaint home with two bedrooms. Perfect for me. But seeing Porter here makes me smile. He overtakes the room.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asks, handing me the glass of cold water. He sits next to me, and we each push our chairs out, facing one another. He sets his feet apart, and my knees touch in between his. His broad shoulders are as wide as the little table.

  I love his size, how alpha male he is, and yet how gentle he can be at the same time. It’s how I’ve imagined him in the bedroom. In control and yet sensitive to my every need. I have to shake the thought away because I feel the moan rise in my throat.

  “You just look so big in here, the place looks dainty with you in it,” I tell him honestly.

  He grins bashfully. “Well, this pink paint and pink curtains and pink table don’t exactly scream male energy.”

  “Do you hate it? The way I decorated?” I don’t know why I ask, but I do know why I care. I want Porter to like everything about me. Plain and simple. God, why didn’t I make it look like a cabin, forest green and unstained pine?

  “I love it,” he says shocking me. “It looks like you, Jenna.”

  I lift my eyebrows, biting back a smile. “Eli said it was over-the-top.”

  Porter chuckles. “Well, your brother doesn�
�t know everything. I get that the cottage has a feminine feel, but it’s cozy, cute, charming. It’s you.”

  If I felt dizzy before, it’s a whole new level now. Does Porter actually think I’m cute? No. Of course not. He was speaking in generic terms. I mean, you don’t describe women as cozy. Do you?

  I guzzle the water hoping it will lower my core body temperature.

  “You feeling any better?” he asks with concern in his voice. He places one large hand on my bare knee and that small touch has my body once again on fire.

  “I think...” I lick my lips, wanting his hand on more than just my knee. “I just got really hot.”

  He nods, removing his hand. “Yeah, it’s hard to focus out there.”

  And in here. Is he feeling it too? The energy between us. The pull.

  “Because of the heat?” I ask, eyebrows raised.

  He coughs. “Uh, right. Because of the heat.” His eyes lower, and he won’t look at me.

  Maybe I haven’t been reading Porter wrong. Maybe he can see us together. Maybe this is torture for him the way it is for me.

  I’ve been sitting idle long enough. And if I don’t at least try, I’ll never know if there is a possibility of me having exactly what I want.

  “Outside it wasn’t the heat that got me,” I admit.

  Porter’s jaw bounces and his breathing becomes rough, his eyes finally meeting mine. “No?”

  I shake my head. “I was getting all worked up about something else.”

  “And what was that?” he asks.

  “You. I was thinking about being with you.”

  I lean in then to kiss him, knowing this is my chance. He may be my brother’s best friend, but he is the only man I’ve ever wanted.