to me with a glint in his eye. When I reached to shake it, and he pulled back. “Nah, I didn’t want to shake hands, love. I want to show you this thing ‘ere.”
He pushed himself past his friend and sat on the seat beside me. He held out his right hand again and pointed with his left finger. “I was doing a bit of carpentry yesterday, restoring this kick ass chair, right, and as I was running my hand over it, I felt a pain and I reckon I’ve got a splinter but it’s so fucking, pardon my French, small that I can’t see it properly.”
“Well,” I replied. “I don’t normally do these things willy-nilly, but let’s have a see.”
I took his hand in mine and ran my finger around the area he had pointed to, the roughness of it making me imagine his hand slapping my buttock.
“Hmmm, it certainly looks like a splinter to me, but you’re right, it’s very small.”
“See, I told you it was a splinter.” He humphed at Simon, knocking the broadsheet paper he had been reading from his hands. He shook his head.
“I thought it was just a scratch, you’re such a damn cry baby about everything.” Simon rolled his eyes and lifted his paper, ignoring his friend once again.
“No, I’m not,” he growled at the back of Simon’s paper, and I couldn’t help but grin. Maybe I’d gotten the wrong vibe from these two. I could have sworn they were straight mates, but the more they went on the more they sounded like an old married couple.
I dipped into my handbag, unzipped a pocket and pulled out my tweezers.
“It’s lucky you’ve bumped into a lady doctor, really. I have the perfect splinter removing tool on my person.”
“Aww, shit, this is going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“It’ll hurt less than having that chunk of wood irritating you for the next goodness knows how many days.” I smiled and he grinned back before sighing dramatically.
“Oh, go on then, Doc. I can handle it.”
I switched on the interior light above me, and cradled his big, work-roughened hand in mine and delicately gripped my tweezers in the other. His brows knitted tightly together and his muscles stiffened as he anticipated pain. I soothed him with whispered words of kindness and the splinter slipped out easily.
“That didn’t hurt at all,” he exclaimed as I showed him the little chip of wood that had been irritating him. “Thank you, Doctor.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
“Oh, you’re welcome.” I was flustered. His lips caressing my flesh took me by surprise but it was pleasant. More than pleasant, in fact. Erotic, even.
“Yes, thank you,” Simon added. “He’ll stop moaning like a baby about it now.”
“My pleasure.” I nodded. “It is my job after all.”
“So what’s a gorgeous doctor doing on the hangover express?” Paul asked and my cheeks flushed.
“I need some booze for a party, and I fancied an adventure.”
“Ahh, cool.” Paul nodded. “We’re off to stock up Simon’s wine cellar. We just finished building it. You’d be amazed how much work goes into creating an essentially cold, dark room.”
“You’ve got to get the atmosphere just right for wine, right?” I didn’t really know. The kind of wine I usually drank was made yesterday. But I was desperate to keep the conversation going in hopes of more erotic interaction later.
“Well, so Simon says.” Paul’s eyes rolled and I laughed.
“You’re like an old married couple.” I grinned and Paul blushed.
“Oh, don’t you start. All our mates say that, too.”
“We’ve been living together too long, Paul,” Simon added, prodding him. “People are starting to think you’re gay.”
“And you’re not!” he grumbled. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken up with a man who plucks his eyebrows.”
“So you guys aren’t…” I asked, confused.
“Oh hell, no,” Simon enthused. “Just house mates.”
“We’re good at sharing aren’t we, Si?” Paul nudged his friend and he grinned.
“That we are, me old
He pushed himself past his friend and sat on the seat beside me. He held out his right hand again and pointed with his left finger. “I was doing a bit of carpentry yesterday, restoring this kick ass chair, right, and as I was running my hand over it, I felt a pain and I reckon I’ve got a splinter but it’s so fucking, pardon my French, small that I can’t see it properly.”
“Well,” I replied. “I don’t normally do these things willy-nilly, but let’s have a see.”
I took his hand in mine and ran my finger around the area he had pointed to, the roughness of it making me imagine his hand slapping my buttock.
“Hmmm, it certainly looks like a splinter to me, but you’re right, it’s very small.”
“See, I told you it was a splinter.” He humphed at Simon, knocking the broadsheet paper he had been reading from his hands. He shook his head.
“I thought it was just a scratch, you’re such a damn cry baby about everything.” Simon rolled his eyes and lifted his paper, ignoring his friend once again.
“No, I’m not,” he growled at the back of Simon’s paper, and I couldn’t help but grin. Maybe I’d gotten the wrong vibe from these two. I could have sworn they were straight mates, but the more they went on the more they sounded like an old married couple.
I dipped into my handbag, unzipped a pocket and pulled out my tweezers.
“It’s lucky you’ve bumped into a lady doctor, really. I have the perfect splinter removing tool on my person.”
“Aww, shit, this is going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“It’ll hurt less than having that chunk of wood irritating you for the next goodness knows how many days.” I smiled and he grinned back before sighing dramatically.
“Oh, go on then, Doc. I can handle it.”
I switched on the interior light above me, and cradled his big, work-roughened hand in mine and delicately gripped my tweezers in the other. His brows knitted tightly together and his muscles stiffened as he anticipated pain. I soothed him with whispered words of kindness and the splinter slipped out easily.
“That didn’t hurt at all,” he exclaimed as I showed him the little chip of wood that had been irritating him. “Thank you, Doctor.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
“Oh, you’re welcome.” I was flustered. His lips caressing my flesh took me by surprise but it was pleasant. More than pleasant, in fact. Erotic, even.
“Yes, thank you,” Simon added. “He’ll stop moaning like a baby about it now.”
“My pleasure.” I nodded. “It is my job after all.”
“So what’s a gorgeous doctor doing on the hangover express?” Paul asked and my cheeks flushed.
“I need some booze for a party, and I fancied an adventure.”
“Ahh, cool.” Paul nodded. “We’re off to stock up Simon’s wine cellar. We just finished building it. You’d be amazed how much work goes into creating an essentially cold, dark room.”
“You’ve got to get the atmosphere just right for wine, right?” I didn’t really know. The kind of wine I usually drank was made yesterday. But I was desperate to keep the conversation going in hopes of more erotic interaction later.
“Well, so Simon says.” Paul’s eyes rolled and I laughed.
“You’re like an old married couple.” I grinned and Paul blushed.
“Oh, don’t you start. All our mates say that, too.”
“We’ve been living together too long, Paul,” Simon added, prodding him. “People are starting to think you’re gay.”
“And you’re not!” he grumbled. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken up with a man who plucks his eyebrows.”
“So you guys aren’t…” I asked, confused.
“Oh hell, no,” Simon enthused. “Just house mates.”
“We’re good at sharing aren’t we, Si?” Paul nudged his friend and he grinned.
“That we are, me old
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