The city skyline glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Saxton’s upscale apartment, a modern fortress of sleek lines and minimalist elegance. Chrome fixtures gleamed under recessed lighting, and the black leather sectional screamed money. But in the heart of this pristine sanctuary, chaos reigned—a relentless drip-drip-drip from the kitchen sink, transforming into a miniature Niagara Falls with every passing minute. Saxton, dressed to kill in a tailored charcoal suit that hugged his lean frame like a lover’s caress, paced the hardwood floor. His pearl-gray eyes flashed with irritation, sharp as cut glass, as water mocked him with its insolent rhythm.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, raking a hand through his meticulously styled black hair. “I pay through the nose for this place, and the maintenance crew can’t even handle a basic leak. Incompetent fools.” His polished demeanor frayed at the edges, a rare crack in the armor of a man who thrived on control. With an impatient jab at his phone, he dialed the emergency plumber line, his voice clipped as he barked his address into the receiver. “Yes, now. I don’t care if it’s after hours. Fix it.”
Minutes later, a heavy knock rattled the door. Saxton strode over, yanking it open with a curt nod to the man standing there. Ruhn, a towering figure with muscles that strained against a faded navy work shirt, loomed in the doorway. His brown hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d just rolled out of bed—or someone else’s—and his brown eyes glinted with a roguish charm as he scanned the apartment. A toolbox dangled from one meaty hand, and a smirk tugged at his lips as he took in the sleek surroundings.
“Well, damn,” Ruhn drawled, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “This place looks like it belongs in one of them fancy magazines. Didn’t expect to be fixin’ sinks in a palace.”
Saxton’s jaw tightened, barely concealing his disdain for the “help.” He gestured toward the kitchen with a dismissive flick of his wrist, as if shooing away a pesky intern. “The sink. It’s leaking. Obviously. Try not to turn my kitchen into a swamp while you’re at it.”
Ruhn’s gaze lingered on Saxton, sliding down the tailored lines of his suit with unabashed interest. His eyes caught on the sliver of dark socks peeking out beneath crisp trousers, and that smirk widened into something downright wicked. “Sure thing, boss,” he said, sauntering over to the sink and dropping to his knees with a grunt. He slid under the cabinet, his broad shoulders barely fitting, and set to work with a clank of tools. “Nice socks, by the way. Real classy.”
Saxton crossed his arms, hovering nearby like a hawk. “Just focus on the pipe and not my wardrobe,” he snapped, his tone dripping with condescension. “And don’t make a mess. This place is worth more than your entire hometown, I’m sure.”
Ruhn’s head tilted, though his hands kept working, tightening a pipe with deliberate slowness. A low chuckle rumbled from under the sink. “Oh, don’t you worry, fancy boy. I know how to handle a little splash. Question is, can you? Or do them pretty suits come with a dry-clean-only warning?”
Saxton’s lips pressed into a thin line, his irritation spiking. “Perhaps if you moved at something resembling a professional pace, I wouldn’t have to worry about water damage. Or are you always this slow? Backwoods pace, I assume.”
Ruhn slid out from under the sink, standing to his full height—a good six inches taller than Saxton. He wiped his hands on a rag, his broad frame looming as a slow, dangerous grin spread across his face. “Backwoods, huh? That’s cute comin’ from a stuck-up city slicker who probably ain’t never held a wrench in his life. You need a lesson in patience, darlin’. Or maybe somethin’ else.”
The air crackled, tension coiling tight between them. Saxton’s eyes narrowed, his sharp tongue ready to strike. “If I wanted lessons, I wouldn’t be asking a plumber. Your incompetence is already testing my patience. Fix the damn sink before I call someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”
Ruhn’s brown eyes darkened, a predatory edge creeping in as he stepped closer, crowding Saxton against the marble countertop. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous purr. “You better watch that pretty mouth of yours, city boy, ‘fore things get messy in a whole new way.”
Saxton’s breath hitched, his usual ironclad control slipping as Ruhn’s presence overwhelmed the space between them. A calloused hand brushed against his arm, the touch fleeting but electric, a silent challenge hanging in the air. Who would break first? Saxton’s pulse thrummed, but he refused to back down, even as heat crept up his neck.
Ruhn chuckled, a wicked sound that sent a shiver down Saxton’s spine. His gaze flicked to the silk tie around Saxton’s neck, then lower to those dark socks again, blatant interest sparking in his eyes. “You know, I got tools for more than just plumbin’,” he murmured, stepping even closer. “Might be fun to see how you handle a different kinda fix.”
Saxton swallowed hard, grasping for his usual sharpness. “Your unprofessionalism is astounding,” he bit out, but the words lacked their usual venom, his voice betraying the flush creeping across his skin. “I hired you to fix a leak, not to… proposition me.”
Ruhn leaned in, his breath hot against Saxton’s ear, the scent of sweat and metal intoxicating in its rawness. “Oh, I’m gonna fix more than just a leak today, sweetheart,” he whispered, his drawl dripping with promise. “Question is, you gonna keep fightin’ me… or you gonna let me take care of business?”
Saxton froze, caught between defiance and a dangerous, thrilling anticipation. The drip of the sink had slowed to a faint echo, but the heat between them was anything but contained.
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