Indecent Encounters by Delilah Hunt, Erin O'Riordan, Pepper Anthony, Ashlynn Monroe, Melissa Hosack, Angelina Rain Page A

help?” he yelled again. He unhooked the harness of the blower, ready to set it aside. She shook her head vehemently. He watched as she hefted the rod again, admiring now the way her snug t-shirt clung to her big soft-looking breasts. He swallowed hard. He was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra today. He knew Mrs. B. often worked at home, so seeing her in casual dress was nothing new. But he’d never seen her body displayed quite like this before, framed in the front window where anyone—including him—could totally check her out.
    “I’m coming in to help,” he called. Then he set the blower down and went to the door. He waited for what seemed an eternity, but finally she was there, turning the knob and stepping back to let him in.
    “I—I didn’t mean to bother you at your work,” she said, her voice all breathy. “I just can’t quite reach high enough.” She wasn’t making eye contact. And she was still blushing. What’s that all about?
    He followed her to the dining room. As he retrieved the rod and easily popped it back into its bracket, it suddenly occurred to him that she had been standing right here when everything fell. Had Mrs. B been hiding behind the drapes, watching him? The possibility of that made him smile to himself. He glanced over at her. She was standing there by the dining table, twisting her hands together like a guilty little girl. He felt a strong rush of animal attraction to her.
    Sometimes Mrs. B came across as just too sophisticated and glamorous…way out of his reach. But not today. He liked her without makeup, in her casual clothes and bare feet. He liked the tousled look of her long red hair, as if she’d just gotten out of bed. He especially liked the shy way she was acting. It stirred up strong feelings in him, made him want to put his arms around her, to take care of her in some way. At the same time, other parts of him were getting pretty excited to be standing here so close to her. He felt an undeniable response from the region below his belt.
    But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Barefoot or no, Mrs. B was still out of reach, and always would be.
    “Thanks for your help,” she said in a quiet voice, and turned back toward the entry.
    Just then they both saw a white delivery van pull into the driveway. Main Street Floral, the side panel said. A guy jumped out of the van and came up the walk with a long narrow box under his arm. Mrs. B opened the door.
    “Delivery for Melanie Blaisdell,” he said.
    She took the box and gave the guy a bill from her pocket. As he went back down the steps, she set the box on the hall table and lifted the top off.
    “I’ll just be getting back to work then.” Sandy started to brush past her. As he did, he glanced inside the open box. There, lying among the folds of red tissue paper, was a big bunch of black roses with extra long thorns. Whoa! Somebody sure had a twisted sense of humor.
    And just as Sandy was wondering who that twisted person might be, Mrs. B let loose with a string of swear words that stopped him in his tracks. For a moment he just stood there, watching helplessly as she shook her fist at the ceiling and damned someone named Alex to hell and back.
    What should he do? Was something seriously wrong? Who was this Alex guy anyway, and why would he do something as rude as send black flowers to a nice person like Mrs. B? A fresh surge of protective feelings riffled through him.
    And then suddenly all the fire seemed to go out of her. She dropped her fist and her shoulders slumped. To Sandy’s horror, tears made shiny tracks down her cheeks. She looked up at him mutely and gave a loud sniff.
    “Hey,” he said, stepping forward. The next thing he knew, his arm was going around her shoulders; he just couldn’t seem to help himself. “Hey, it’s okay.” He rubbed slow circles on her back. “Don’t cry. It’s okay.”
    He was actually touching Mrs. B! His pulse rate rocketed.
    After just a moment she