natural, this is how I move grace that simply adds to her beauty.
When she comes back in I ask if there is anything I can do besides watch or be in her way. She seems taken aback. I wonder if anyone ever offers to help her or if she’s a kitchen-zilla. With her tiny frame, I can’t picture her ever scaring anyone, but bitches can be crazy and you never see it coming. She seems to contemplate what to say, maybe afraid she’ll say something wrong. Watching the emotions rapidly play across her face amuses me. I want to say something, but not knowing what’s going on in her pretty head leaves me speechless.
She finally apologizes and tells me to wait while she turns on some music and then she’ll tell me what to do. Besides you. Hearing her chuckle, I wonder if I said that out loud. I need to get my mind and libido in check. She’s messing with me. Severely. Sneaking a peek at her, I notice she’s blushing again. Maybe I’m not the only one needing to get things in check. Smiling to myself, I start to feel a little better about being a horny shit all day.
Hearing Skid Row’s I Remember You come blaring through the speakers has me smiling big. I love this band and this song. I’m ready to rock out. Until I see her face. She looks like she just took a kick to the gut. Her eyes glisten. Obviously this song holds meaning to her and she’s lost in another moment I know I shouldn’t intrude on, but she looks so sad. I start to walk to her. One step…two…thr– but then she shakes her head and is back in the room with me. And she doesn’t even notice that I’m almost half a room closer to her.
“So, what can I do to help? I know I can at least chop vegetables.” A small giggle escapes her lips bringing a smile to mine. That is so much better than the sadness from a minute ago. She quickly spreads the pile of veggies in front of me, shows me what she wants sliced, diced, and I’m on my way. I know I’m working way too slowly for her, but she never says a word or shows impatience. I can’t help but wonder what her flaw is going to be. Six toes on a foot– nope, she’s bare foot now. An extra nipple… of course my mind would go there. I know she’s grief stricken, but that isn’t a flaw. That’s natural.
Def Leppard’s Photograph starts playing and she starts singing along, her hips moving side to side, her hair flipping back and forth. Holy shit, if that isn’t the sexiest thing ever, then I don’t know what is. Even though I don’t know what the hell her shirt means, watching her dance in those tight, barely there shorts has me almost busting through my pants. I’m lucky I haven’t cut any fingers off. I need a distraction.
“Like this one,” I blurt out. I need to ask something before I take her on her counter-tops not caring they’re covered in food.
She tells me it should be her theme song and chuckles… chuckles. Ok. I don’t get it. Am I supposed to?
“Inside joke or can you let me in on it?” I ask with a smile although the smile is more because I just said inside and let me in. I know, I’m a pig.
She tells me she’s a photographer and that her and her friend Alahna have a studio together. I’m impressed that she has her own business. She wouldn’t be after me for my money because she has her own. Mortified at the way my thoughts are going, I try to focus on what she’s saying. Something about this song being her happy place. Shit. I’m really not sure what she just said.
“A photographer, huh? What kind of stuff do you take pictures of?” Really, Tucker? That’s what you ask her? She takes pictures, idiot. That’s what her job is. Good job sounding like a moron. Lifting my eyes to meet hers, she’s smiling and I realize I asked something right. Guess I’m not so stupid after all.
I listen to her tell me about what she does. She talks about liking to take
When she comes back in I ask if there is anything I can do besides watch or be in her way. She seems taken aback. I wonder if anyone ever offers to help her or if she’s a kitchen-zilla. With her tiny frame, I can’t picture her ever scaring anyone, but bitches can be crazy and you never see it coming. She seems to contemplate what to say, maybe afraid she’ll say something wrong. Watching the emotions rapidly play across her face amuses me. I want to say something, but not knowing what’s going on in her pretty head leaves me speechless.
She finally apologizes and tells me to wait while she turns on some music and then she’ll tell me what to do. Besides you. Hearing her chuckle, I wonder if I said that out loud. I need to get my mind and libido in check. She’s messing with me. Severely. Sneaking a peek at her, I notice she’s blushing again. Maybe I’m not the only one needing to get things in check. Smiling to myself, I start to feel a little better about being a horny shit all day.
Hearing Skid Row’s I Remember You come blaring through the speakers has me smiling big. I love this band and this song. I’m ready to rock out. Until I see her face. She looks like she just took a kick to the gut. Her eyes glisten. Obviously this song holds meaning to her and she’s lost in another moment I know I shouldn’t intrude on, but she looks so sad. I start to walk to her. One step…two…thr– but then she shakes her head and is back in the room with me. And she doesn’t even notice that I’m almost half a room closer to her.
“So, what can I do to help? I know I can at least chop vegetables.” A small giggle escapes her lips bringing a smile to mine. That is so much better than the sadness from a minute ago. She quickly spreads the pile of veggies in front of me, shows me what she wants sliced, diced, and I’m on my way. I know I’m working way too slowly for her, but she never says a word or shows impatience. I can’t help but wonder what her flaw is going to be. Six toes on a foot– nope, she’s bare foot now. An extra nipple… of course my mind would go there. I know she’s grief stricken, but that isn’t a flaw. That’s natural.
Def Leppard’s Photograph starts playing and she starts singing along, her hips moving side to side, her hair flipping back and forth. Holy shit, if that isn’t the sexiest thing ever, then I don’t know what is. Even though I don’t know what the hell her shirt means, watching her dance in those tight, barely there shorts has me almost busting through my pants. I’m lucky I haven’t cut any fingers off. I need a distraction.
“Like this one,” I blurt out. I need to ask something before I take her on her counter-tops not caring they’re covered in food.
She tells me it should be her theme song and chuckles… chuckles. Ok. I don’t get it. Am I supposed to?
“Inside joke or can you let me in on it?” I ask with a smile although the smile is more because I just said inside and let me in. I know, I’m a pig.
She tells me she’s a photographer and that her and her friend Alahna have a studio together. I’m impressed that she has her own business. She wouldn’t be after me for my money because she has her own. Mortified at the way my thoughts are going, I try to focus on what she’s saying. Something about this song being her happy place. Shit. I’m really not sure what she just said.
“A photographer, huh? What kind of stuff do you take pictures of?” Really, Tucker? That’s what you ask her? She takes pictures, idiot. That’s what her job is. Good job sounding like a moron. Lifting my eyes to meet hers, she’s smiling and I realize I asked something right. Guess I’m not so stupid after all.
I listen to her tell me about what she does. She talks about liking to take
Similar Books
