But her body is what has me practically drooling. Although I love women of all shapes and sizes, I’ve always been crazy about a woman with some curves. I’m a big guy, and I like a woman with some meat on her bones. And Avery Mathis has a whole lot of curves. Her low-cut shirt and tight jeans show off her large tits and round ass.
I try not to gawk because I’ll look like a pig. Reminding myself I don’t play where I work, I vow to keep any feelings that may arise to myself.
As I walk toward her, I say, “Miss Mathis?”
“Please, call me Avery.”
I hold out my hand to shake hers. “Duke Samson.”
“Nice to meet you, Duke. Please, come inside.”
When we hit the door, she says, “Get ready to step back in time.”
I wonder what she means until we step through the door. Then, it all makes sense. It’s like nothing has changed in years.
“Wow,” I mumble.
“Yeah. To say it needs updating is an understatement.”
Avery walks ahead of me, and I try not to stare at her ass. Holy fuck, it’s nearly impossible, though. Unable to help myself, I sneak a few little peeks. And it’s hot as hell.
She ushers me into the kitchen and asks. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
She opens the fridge and pulls out a beer. “You sure? I went a little crazy at Walmart and bought enough to feed a small army.”
Not wanting to be rude, I walk over and accept the beer. “Thank you.”
“Come on. I’ll give you a tour.”
“Do you mind if I take photos and measurements?” I ask. “It will help when I go to buy materials.”
“Go for it.”
Avery leads me around the house, and I try to keep my attention on the tour and not on my gorgeous tour guide. Most of the work appears to be cosmetic, so there shouldn’t be anything too major.
When we get to the master bathroom, she walks over to the bathtub against one wall. “See this?” She asks. “This is my favorite part of this place. I thought it just needed a good cleaning, but when I turn on the faucet, it makes a funky noise. The sooner we get this fixed, the happier I will be. Having a nice bathtub will help keep me sane while I’m here.”
“Noted,” I tell her.
When the tour is finished, we walk back downstairs and each take a seat on either side of the table.
I ask her, “So, besides fixing the bathtub, what else are you wanting done to the house?”
She lets out a heavy sigh and rubs her forehead. “Look, Duke, I’m going to level with you. I have no idea what goes into renovating a house. I’ve never been a landlord before. Truthfully, I don’t want to be one now, but I can’t sell this place, so here we are. I just need to get it ready—the sooner, the better.”
She pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to me. “This is how much money I have to spend—all in. I can maybe add a little to it, but not a lot. I know you'll need to buy materials. Whatever is leftover at the end is yours. I don't know if that's enough, but if we run into roadblocks, we can reevaluate.”
I look at the number and am pleasantly surprised. It’s more than I thought it would be.
“This should work,” I tell her. “Should we go over exactly what you want to have done?”
“Like I said, I have no idea where to even start. I just know this house needs a facelift. Fresh paint. Maybe some new flooring and cabinet hardware. And just some general repairs here and there. But as for specifics on any of those things, I’m at a loss. I’m decent at decorating, but that’s where my knowledge ends.”
She runs her fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her face. I can see how much this whole thing is stressing her out—even though I really don’t know her.
I say, “How about before I work on each project, I bring you a few samples for you to take a look at. We can go from there.”