Wet (A Real Man 25) Read online

  Wet

  A Real Man

  Jenika Snow

  WET (A REAL MAN)

  By Jenika Snow

  www.JenikaSnow.com

  [email protected]

  Copyright © July 2020 by Jenika Snow

  First ebook edition © July 2020 by Jenika Snow

  Cover design by: Lori Jackson Design

  Content Editor: Kayla Robichaux

  Image provided by: Adobe Stock

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

  Contents

  Synopsis

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue One

  Epilogue Two

  About the Author

  The poor weren’t with the rich.

  The help didn’t think they had a chance with the ones they worked for.

  That’s what my parents drilled into my head since the day we started working for the St. James family, since we moved onto the property and they became our employers.

  But from the moment I saw Pyper, the daughter of the wealthiest family in the state, I knew I couldn’t stay away. I pretended like I could, but I sought her out, took the jobs that would bring me close to her. I wanted to see her, smell her perfume, tell myself that what I was doing wasn’t wrong, that I wasn’t crossing lines.

  My kind weren’t with hers.

  The poor weren’t with the rich.

  Until they were, until we were.

  And when Pyper gave herself to me, when I took her in the way I’d always wanted in the pool house where anyone could see us, could catch us, I knew there was no going back. I’d make sure of that.

  I’d been in love with her for years, and now that I finally had her, nothing would keep her from me.

  Not our families, not the “rules” on us not being together, not even the fact that she’d leave again for college.

  Nothing would keep me from Pyper.

  Chapter One

  Gio

  My parents always warned me to stay away from her, that “our kind” didn’t mix with hers.

  Our kind.

  The poor weren’t with the rich.

  The help didn’t think they had a chance with their employers.

  And for the most part, I listened to my parents. I didn’t talk to Pyper St. James, and I kept my head down, kept my distance. But when she wasn’t looking, I watched her, thought about her... wanted her so fucking badly I could taste it.

  Pyper St. James, heiress to the St. James Distillery in Wicksburgh. Her family was richer than sin, the wealthiest family in the two-state area.

  We worked and lived on the St. James property, ten acres that were perfectly manicured. And that was the main job for my father and me. The hand scaling as well as tending to the pool, the main fence that went with it, and the surrounding main house gardening.

  My mother mainly worked inside, doing housework, simple seamstress things Mrs. St. James needed, and any other little odds and ends.

  My mother and father, Maria and Alfonso Santini were Italian immigrants, having moved to the States before I was born. They’d gotten this job when I was only fifteen, four years ago. And up until I graduated high school, I strictly lived on the property, not an employee. But even though I technically wasn’t working for the St. James family, my parents drove home that I was not to assume I had any ties with them. They were getting paid to be there, getting paid a shitload, in fact. And although the St. James family were generous and kind to us, my folks were old school, followed tradition, positions. they held respect at the highest.

  So I always kept my distance, never spoke to anyone who didn’t work on the grounds. But as I got older, when I started feeling things boys felt for girls, when I first realized how beautiful Pyper was, that’s when I knew staying away from her was going to be the hardest fucking thing I’d ever done.

  And when she’d left for college, I thought maybe my fixation for her would tame, grow distant. These months of not seeing her meant I could focus on other things instead of obsessing about her.

  But that had been the biggest fucking lie I told myself. Because that old saying about distance only makes the heart grow fonder... had never been truer than in my situation.

  I obsessed about her when she was gone. Who was she with? Who was she talking to? Did she meet someone? Was she letting some asshole touch her? That last thought had me so jealous, so on edge, I found myself falling into this dark, angry mood.

  Not being near her, seeing her every day, made me so desperate when she finally did come back for breaks or during the summer that I was getting sloppy in keeping my feelings hidden. It was like I wanted everyone to know what I felt, how I felt for Pyper.

  I’d walk a little too close to her, so close I could feel the heat come from her body, could smell the floral scent that clung to her.

  After graduation, I could’ve gone to a university, but I decided to stay close to home, commute to the community college, help my family on the property. I could get paid by the St. James family, save up my money, and still get a secondary education.

  Going to college was important to me, important to my family. My mother and father had barely graduated high school, and college certainly hadn’t been in the books for them once they moved to the States. They had to find work, and as hardworking immigrants, they busted their asses to make sure I had a good life. And I did. I never wanted for anything. I didn’t need lavish things or wealth. I didn’t need fancy cars or custom-made suits. But what I needed, what I wanted, was Pyper.

  That had been clear over the years.

  And the longer I stayed working for her family, the more I saw exactly how different our lives really were.

  But that didn’t matter, didn’t change how I felt. I loved her. I loved her so fucking much it hurt to see her. My heart raced when she was near. My hands shook, and beads of sweat dotted my brow when I smelled that floral fragrance that followed in her wake.

  I loved her, and I knew as time went on that staying away from her would only get harder. It was already unbearable, and we’d only spoken a handful of times, little conversations on mundane things like the weather, or school, or what our weekend plans were.

  She was home for the summer, the next several months until the fall semester of college started for her.

  For two years, I wanted her with a desperation that was almost sick in its nature. I found myself seeking out the jobs on their property that would bring me to her, let me watch her. Like today, when it was a hot fucking summer day, no clouds in sight, the weather perfect for a swim.

  I’d make sure the chemicals in the pool were right, level. I’d tend to the landscaping nearby, close enough that I could watch her swim, could see the water dripping off her body when she got out, when she laid out and let the sun dry her curvy-as-fuck body.

  Just thinking about that had me getting hard, and I reached down and adjusted myself.

  I wa
lked around the side of the house and stepped onto the patio, the pool in front of me looking crystalline, clear. I walked over to where the electrical component was for the chemical distribution. I noticed Pyper right away but focused ahead, not wanting to seem obvious.

  But I failed at shit like that pretty much all the time where she was concerned.

  I could practically feel her just feet from me, this heavy presence that had it nearly impossible to focus on damn near anything else.

  I couldn’t help myself as I glanced over my shoulder at where she lounged on one of the pool chairs. She must have just gotten out of the water, the droplets clinging to her form as she sunbathed. I swallowed roughly at the sight of her, the pull of desire so profound in me I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on the task at hand.

  I let my gaze travel back up, taking in every inch of her. She laid back in the chair, one leg straight out, the other bent slightly. The back of the chair was poised at an angle, and she had her arms beside her, the fingers on one hand playing with the edge of her towel underneath her. Beneath a sunhat, Pyper wore big black sunglasses, ones that seemed far too large for her petite face.

  I shouldn’t be staring at her. God, I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it.

  And dammit all to hell, but that little red-and-white polka dot bikini was my fucking downfall as it hugged her form. Although she was tiny compared to me, her waist this tucked in little thing, her hips flaring out femininely, she was still all curves. Her ass…. I bit my bottom lip as I pictured it. Her ass was like a juicy fucking peach I wanted to sink my teeth into.

  Her legs were long, her body toned. I knew she was in track all through high school, knew she continued to do it recreationally while in college.

  Pyper shifted slightly, bringing the brim of her big sunhat down slightly, the shading over her face slightly obstructing my view of her. But I had her face memorized in my head. I had every single inch of her ingrained in my brain. I’d never forget what she looked like. My focus zeroed in on her chest, at the way the top of her bikini dipped low, how her breasts slightly spilled out from the top. She had a perfect handful, ones that would fit in my palm like they were made for me.

  She was made only for me.

  I continued to let my gaze travel down across the center of her body and stopped at the little indentation of her belly. Her stomach moved up and down slowly, evenly as she breathed, and all I could picture was her in the water, swimming toward the edge before climbing out, the entire scene in slow motion like it was some damn movie just for me.

  I couldn’t contain my groan, and it was only after a suspended moment that I heard my name being called.

  “Gio… Gio?”

  The latter was said with a little more authority, and I blinked a few times and turned away from the sight of Pyper to look at my father, who stood just a few feet away. He had a pair of hedge trimmers in his hand, his white baseball cap pulled down over his head, his standard-issued St. James uniform—which consisted of a pair of khaki shorts and a white polo shirt—molded to his olive-skin-toned body.

  “What?” I cleared my throat, because I heard how gravelly my voice was. It was laced with arousal, but I prayed like hell nobody realized that but me.

  I was still crouched on my haunches by the chemical distribution component. There was no way I could move at the moment, no fucking way I could stand up. I had a raging hard-on from checking out Pyper.

  My father stared at me for long seconds, his eyebrows pulled down low, because he was no doubt confused why I was so tense all of a sudden.

  “You okay?” he asked, and I nodded a little too quickly.

  And I was, as I curled my hands by my sides to stop them from shaking. “I’m good. I’m good.” I looked at the component again. “Just checking this out, making sure the levels are working properly.”

  He didn’t say anything in response, and I glanced at him. He still watched me with skepticism, but after muttering something under his breath in Italian, he left to go back to working on the hedges he was trimming.

  I breathed out roughly and closed my eyes for a second, trying to get my composure together. I had no control over my body where Pyper was concerned. There wasn’t even any point in trying to fight it. She was like this force of nature that destroyed me from the inside out, and I didn’t want it to stop.

  I wanted that destruction as much as I needed to breathe.

  I opened my eyes then and looked over at her again. My head was racing as I saw her head turned in my direction, as I watched her lift her hand and slowly pull her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, her eyes locked on mine.

  And like it did every single time I noticed her glancing in my direction, my heart stalled, and the world tilted on its axis.

  And all because she looked at me.

  Chapter Two

  Pyper

  I shouldn’t have kept staring at him, because I’d gotten caught. That in itself wasn’t the end of the world, but I didn’t want Gio knowing I watched him. And I don’t know why I even cared. I knew he stared at me too.

  For years, we’d done this back and forth, not really speaking, but I knew he watched me, and I was pretty sure he caught me nearly every time I stared at him.

  And right now, our eyes were locked.

  I felt my cheeks heat for that fact alone and prayed like hell he couldn’t see the reaction he caused in me. It wasn’t just my embarrassment that he caught me, but also because I didn’t miss how his eyes dipped to look at my chest, or my belly, or even my legs. Yeah, I’d seen him looking at me as he checked me out.

  His gaze was intense, so powerful I could practically feel his fingers on my body, between my thighs.

  As I watched him finish what he was doing, all I could think about was what it would feel like to have all that hardness pressed to me. To be fair, I always thought about that, but God, it was becoming a lot more insistent as each day passed.

  He stood then, and I took him in. Gio was well over six feet. I couldn’t help but stare at his muscular yet lean body. I felt my body instantly react, felt my nipples harden, sensed wetness pooling between my thighs. I’d felt desire plenty of times since I knew what the feeling was, and every time, it was directed at—was because of—Gio. I’d never felt anything like this arousal, this passion, with anyone other than the boy currently walking away from where I sat.

  I should have looked away and not been so obvious, but at this point, I’m completely shifted on the chair now, one hand on the cushion, my fingers digging into the fabric. My heart was racing as I watched him stop before he disappeared behind the side of the house. Our eyes locked again. So many feelings and desires spilled from me, but I was too afraid to ever say them.

  And then the connection was broken, and I was left sitting there feeling empty.

  I didn’t know how long I stayed by the pool there, but my interest in sunbathing when Gio wasn’t around diminished quickly. It wasn’t that I wanted to lounge around in my bikini so he could check me out, but more so that I wanted to be the one checking him out.

  My feelings for Gio after all these years had grown from curious feelings, to a hard crush, to intense lust, to what they were today. Love.

  At nineteen years old, I was a virgin, never knowing what being with someone was like, never going on a proper date or being kissed or anything like that. It was embarrassing when I really thought about it, but at the end of the day, the only person I wanted to share those with was Gio, whether he’d ever find that out or not.

  It wasn’t some infatuation, some teenage desire for something and someone I really couldn’t have. It may not be a reality in the grand scheme of things, but for me, it was as real as it got.

  And to be honest, I didn’t care about repercussions or consequences because of my feelings for him. I didn’t care if my family may not approve, although I knew my parents’ hearts and knew they wanted me happy above all else. But even knowing that, feeling that as deeply as I’d ever felt anyth
ing before, I’d never once gone up to Gio and told him.

  I’d seen the way he looked at me, desire clear on his face. But desire and true feelings weren’t the same thing. Lust and love were very different. Did he desire me because he thought he couldn’t have me? I wanted to tell him he could have every single inch of me.

  And even picturing myself telling him how I felt, even if I kept hidden how deep it actually ran, the fear of rejection was far too real. The fear of being used kept my mouth shut and had me keeping my distance. I watched him from afar, the same way he did me. And even if it was exhausting, it was also tiresome and depressing. And every time I had to leave for school, I felt that ache in my chest intensify. Those months away were pure torture. Was it hard for him too? Did he even notice my absence? Was my need for him to feel the same way about me just a ridiculous, girlish fantasy?

  I didn’t want to think about these things anymore today, so I got up, grabbed my towel, and headed inside. The water from my swim had dried from my body completely. That’s what the hot summer sun did, roasting you from the outside in a matter of minutes.

  I headed inside, pulling open the patio sliding glass door. I could smell dinner cooking by Laney, the family cook who came over every Sunday and made us an incredible meal. I could hear the soft music she typically played while preparing dinner. Although my parents ran in a snobby circle and were extremely wealthy because of the distillery, they were pretty down to earth. They treated their employees like family, even asking Laney to join us for dinner after she was done preparing it.

  But despite all that, everyone they ran with, everyone they associated with, had the same frame of mind—you never get involved with the help.