Walk With Me

29. Vanilla Chapstick and Lemonade

"It has a little kick," I tell her with a smirk when I'm done. "So I'll help you hold it until you're comfortable, okay?"

"I'm scared," she bursts out in a slightly panicked laugh. She's nervous but I can also tell she's pretty excited about this, too.

"I've got you," I reassure her.

She nods, spinning around to face the outer panel of the playhouse and leaning back against my chest as I point out the four holes I've made at each corner and the lines I drew showing where we'll make the cuts. But of course, I can barely concentrate now. I didn't consider the blazing proximity this task would bring us into and I definitely wasn't ready to feel her body against mine like this.

I clear my throat and focus. "Okay, put your right index finger alongside the trigger and your other hand here..." Her left hand floats to the underside of the saw and I slide my fingers along her forearm, resting my own hand on top of hers.

She stands a little more straight now, lining the tip of the blade up with the hole at the top where we're starting at. "Do I push the trigger now?"

"Go ahead."

As soon as it starts up, the loud buzzing and the jolt of power from the saw spooks her. She falls back against me, again, pulling her fingers from the trigger. Her body molds against mine and her adorably frightened laugh vibrates through me, sending a very untimely rush of happiness to my dick, who's all too pleased to feel Amber's ass pressed against him.

Her head turns to look up at me and it doesn't matter that her mouth is covered with a dust mask because her smile is shining through those swirls of caramel in her eyes.

"You said it was a little kick," she sasses at me and I don't miss the little breathy thing going on in her voice as she speaks, making me wonder if it's the effect of the saw or if she's just as flustered as I am right now in this intimate position we're in.

I shrug, trying and failing to stay focused on something other than her ass. "Sorry... I'll help you hold it tighter," I tell her, knowing all that means is getting closer to her. And I'm more than fine with that.

"That would be good," she agrees quickly.

Her finger hits the trigger again and this time, we succeed in making a nice, clean cut downwards.

Amber stops the saw with a squeal, admiring our work. "Oh my gosh! We did it! I love this thing."

I laugh, absolutely giddy from her reaction. "You wanna try it by yourself?"

"No," she blurts out, keeping her face forward. "I'm good with you right here."

Say no more.

When the door and all the window squares are cut out, we take a snack break before sanding down all the edges. Since I wasn't able to acquire the right kind of electric sander in time, we resort to the manual sanding blocks we found at the store. Thankfully, the edges aren't too rough and it's not terrible to finish them by hand. If anything, it's kind of a pleasant task, a bit tedious but enjoyable when I get to work alongside Amber.

"So, do you get into these kinds of projects often? Is that why you have that cool power saw?" she asks as she slides her sanding block carefully up and down the door frame. "Cause if you just had it lying around, then I'm going to come right out and ask if I should be worried," she remarks with a laugh and the playfulness laced through her tone does a number on my gut.

She's so talkative and cute around me these days and it's such a stark contrast to our quiet beginnings, I just can't get enough of her voice.

"Very funny," I retort. "It's actually not mine though. I borrowed it from your neighbor."