beginning of a hard chest.
“Just the regular cut. Nothing fancy. That’s thirty dollars right?” She smiled at him, thinking she had just caught a peek of hi m looking at her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra since he had come by earlier than she had expected, and she was glad to be wearing tight, black biker shorts that showed her legs off to advantage. It was only 8:00 a.m. He was obviously an early riser. “Yep. Will do. It’ll take about a half hour.” “So you own the company?”
“I do.”
“And you still like mowing lawns in the heat?” Lorna smiled, enjoying every minute with him.
“That’s right. I like to get to know each customer. I usually turn the jobs over to another employee after the initial lawn appointment. Not always, though.” He grinned at her, and a frisson ran through her at the look in his eyes.
Lorna handed him the wadded bills, her hand touching his with a hot, electric tingle that fizzled through her straight to the spot between her legs.
He turned and walked toward his mower, and she watched his legs flex under his jeans. Lord, have mercy. She felt herself getting wet at the thought of those legs wrapping around her. Shaking her head, she closed the door of the house as she walked away, her breath coming quickly.
Lorna watched him covertly through the front window. He took his shirt off about a minute into cutting the grass. The brutal heat left him little choice, she supposed, but he was killing her. It had been so long since she’d been with her boyfriend, John. And to be fair, John didn’t look like Reynaldo. He was nice enough, but he wasn’t a bronzed god with a six pack.
She peeked out of the gauzy curtains, watching Reynaldo’s hard, tanned muscles flex as he gripped the lawn mower handle. He must be thirsty, she thought, and she ran to the kitchen to pour him a tall glass of water.
Practically tripping on her feet to get out the front door, she darted across the lawn. He saw her coming, and shut the mower off. Sweat glistened in rivulets on his chest. He had tiny black chest hairs, not too much and not too little there. Lorna felt a twist of desire run through as he took the water from her hand.
“Thanks. This hits the spot.” He looked at her as he drank, and she felt her face getting red.
“Good. It’s hot. I don’t know how you do this work.”
“I enjoy it, and I’m good at it.” He handed her the empty glass. “How about you? What do you do that you can be home on a Thursday morning?”
She could hardly think to answer because she was too busy watching sweat run down his chest ever so slowly over his dark nipples. She would love to lick them, taste the salt there...
“Oh, I’m a freelance writer—you know, I write articles for women’s magazines and that sort of thing.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.” He grinned at her, and she felt heat creeping into her cheeks. “Well, I gotta finish the yard off, and we can talk some more—if you want to, that is. I’m enjoying getting to know you, and I don’t have another lawn to mow until noon.”
“Sounds good. You’re invited in for breakfast if you want it. I have cereal at least.” She laughed as he pulled the cord on the mower and it roared to life.
“It’s a date,” he yelled over the engine.
Lorna sauntered back into the house, feeling his eyes on her as she walked away. He was at the side yard when she got inside the house. The property was tiny, and today she was thankful for that. She didn’t know if she could wait much longer to get closer to Reynaldo—if he wanted her to. She sat on the couch and watched him out the side window, squirming with every flex of his shoulders and biceps.
* * * *
Reynaldo Ortiz tried to focus on cutting the last patches of grass, but it was tough. Lorna White was the most attractive woman he had seen in a long time. He had tried hard to be a gentleman when talking to her a few minutes ago, but seeing her nipples poking through her T-shirt
“Just the regular cut. Nothing fancy. That’s thirty dollars right?” She smiled at him, thinking she had just caught a peek of hi m looking at her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra since he had come by earlier than she had expected, and she was glad to be wearing tight, black biker shorts that showed her legs off to advantage. It was only 8:00 a.m. He was obviously an early riser. “Yep. Will do. It’ll take about a half hour.” “So you own the company?”
“I do.”
“And you still like mowing lawns in the heat?” Lorna smiled, enjoying every minute with him.
“That’s right. I like to get to know each customer. I usually turn the jobs over to another employee after the initial lawn appointment. Not always, though.” He grinned at her, and a frisson ran through her at the look in his eyes.
Lorna handed him the wadded bills, her hand touching his with a hot, electric tingle that fizzled through her straight to the spot between her legs.
He turned and walked toward his mower, and she watched his legs flex under his jeans. Lord, have mercy. She felt herself getting wet at the thought of those legs wrapping around her. Shaking her head, she closed the door of the house as she walked away, her breath coming quickly.
Lorna watched him covertly through the front window. He took his shirt off about a minute into cutting the grass. The brutal heat left him little choice, she supposed, but he was killing her. It had been so long since she’d been with her boyfriend, John. And to be fair, John didn’t look like Reynaldo. He was nice enough, but he wasn’t a bronzed god with a six pack.
She peeked out of the gauzy curtains, watching Reynaldo’s hard, tanned muscles flex as he gripped the lawn mower handle. He must be thirsty, she thought, and she ran to the kitchen to pour him a tall glass of water.
Practically tripping on her feet to get out the front door, she darted across the lawn. He saw her coming, and shut the mower off. Sweat glistened in rivulets on his chest. He had tiny black chest hairs, not too much and not too little there. Lorna felt a twist of desire run through as he took the water from her hand.
“Thanks. This hits the spot.” He looked at her as he drank, and she felt her face getting red.
“Good. It’s hot. I don’t know how you do this work.”
“I enjoy it, and I’m good at it.” He handed her the empty glass. “How about you? What do you do that you can be home on a Thursday morning?”
She could hardly think to answer because she was too busy watching sweat run down his chest ever so slowly over his dark nipples. She would love to lick them, taste the salt there...
“Oh, I’m a freelance writer—you know, I write articles for women’s magazines and that sort of thing.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.” He grinned at her, and she felt heat creeping into her cheeks. “Well, I gotta finish the yard off, and we can talk some more—if you want to, that is. I’m enjoying getting to know you, and I don’t have another lawn to mow until noon.”
“Sounds good. You’re invited in for breakfast if you want it. I have cereal at least.” She laughed as he pulled the cord on the mower and it roared to life.
“It’s a date,” he yelled over the engine.
Lorna sauntered back into the house, feeling his eyes on her as she walked away. He was at the side yard when she got inside the house. The property was tiny, and today she was thankful for that. She didn’t know if she could wait much longer to get closer to Reynaldo—if he wanted her to. She sat on the couch and watched him out the side window, squirming with every flex of his shoulders and biceps.
* * * *
Reynaldo Ortiz tried to focus on cutting the last patches of grass, but it was tough. Lorna White was the most attractive woman he had seen in a long time. He had tried hard to be a gentleman when talking to her a few minutes ago, but seeing her nipples poking through her T-shirt
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