solid in a world flying apart.
“Come on,” he groaned in her ear and she clenched hard, her body one giant spasm of pleasure, lifting her up and away from herself.
Her eyes blinked open only to find him still watching her, his wicked grin softened into something kind. Human. And that humanity suddenly embarrassed her. The dampness between her legs suddenly embarrassed her and she had to look away.
“Wow,” she breathed and he chuckled, warm and low. His fingers, slowly, as if savoring her, slipped away from her body and his hands patted down her skirt, fixed the crooked hem of her shirt.
Considering she had started this little bit of exhibitionist behavior, her sudden shyness seemed ludicrous. He stood up from the car and she stumbled away, the distance between them clearing her head.
Oh . Oh God, what had she done? It was just an emergency kit. She looked at it a million times a day; why had she lost her mind now?
She put her face in her hands, horrified on a molecular level.
His chuckle only made things worse. “Don’t,” he said, his fingers stroking her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t … you’re beautiful. Sexy.”
Ludicrous. His words were outrageous flattery. Lies. She wasn’t sexy. She was an art teacher who lived with her mother. Despite the thong, despite what just happened, she was the opposite of sexy.
Sad. That’s what she was. Bordering on pathetic.
She opened her eyes only to see his erection making a mess of the front of his khaki pants. And the sight, the thought of it, just destroyed her. What did he think was going to happen next? What did she think was next? That they would just climb in the back of the Cadillac, or, oh my God , was she supposed to do the same thing to him, out here? In the open?
I’m not this person , she thought. What the hell am I doing?
“I have to go,” she blurted.
“What … now?”
“Yep. Yes. I’m … ah … I’m late. So. You’ll be fine.” She grabbed the water from the ground and poured it into the radiator. Water splashed everywhere. “Just keep an eye on the heat gauge and the car will be fine. I mean … and I suppose—” she gestured toward the erection, because she was that stupid. “You … ah … will be too. I guess.” Oh my God, where was an earthquake, a flash flood when you needed it?
“Is this a joke?” he laughed, but there was an edge to it. He was getting angry.
She nearly ran, embarrassed, and her thong was unpleasantly wet and uncomfortable and her pride all worn and ratty. The door of the car slammed shut, sealing her into its familiar blandness, its safety ratings and good gas mileage. Yes . This was right. Even the emergency kit in the backseat made her feel better.
She drove away in a plume of dust, not even lifting her hand in a wave. Not even honking.
It didn’t happen , she told herself, turning up the radio, brushing her blond hair out of her eyes. None of that happened .
Chapter 8
Jackson braced his head in his hands and wondered why he scheduled budget meetings on Monday morning. It was like taking a sledgehammer to the day. To his own head.
“I thought … I thought we’d dodged the bankruptcy bullet,” Jackson said. “We were in the clear.”
“It’s not bankruptcy, Jackson. Not exactly. It’s just … reality. Look, you’ve done a great job, son,” Brian Andersen, the city treasurer and undoubtedly the next mayor of Bishop, took off his half-glasses and folded them up as if he were ready to throw in the towel. “You cleared up the pension mess you inherited. I thought for sure that would ruin us. Frankly, we’ve held on longer than I thought we would.”
“Let’s walk backward,” Jackson said, leaning back in the chair behind his desk. His hair was still damp from his morning swim, his body loose and boneless, his muscles unable to muster up a twinge despite the conversation. On a purely selfish note, thank God he’d managed to keep the pool open. Without
“Come on,” he groaned in her ear and she clenched hard, her body one giant spasm of pleasure, lifting her up and away from herself.
Her eyes blinked open only to find him still watching her, his wicked grin softened into something kind. Human. And that humanity suddenly embarrassed her. The dampness between her legs suddenly embarrassed her and she had to look away.
“Wow,” she breathed and he chuckled, warm and low. His fingers, slowly, as if savoring her, slipped away from her body and his hands patted down her skirt, fixed the crooked hem of her shirt.
Considering she had started this little bit of exhibitionist behavior, her sudden shyness seemed ludicrous. He stood up from the car and she stumbled away, the distance between them clearing her head.
Oh . Oh God, what had she done? It was just an emergency kit. She looked at it a million times a day; why had she lost her mind now?
She put her face in her hands, horrified on a molecular level.
His chuckle only made things worse. “Don’t,” he said, his fingers stroking her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t … you’re beautiful. Sexy.”
Ludicrous. His words were outrageous flattery. Lies. She wasn’t sexy. She was an art teacher who lived with her mother. Despite the thong, despite what just happened, she was the opposite of sexy.
Sad. That’s what she was. Bordering on pathetic.
She opened her eyes only to see his erection making a mess of the front of his khaki pants. And the sight, the thought of it, just destroyed her. What did he think was going to happen next? What did she think was next? That they would just climb in the back of the Cadillac, or, oh my God , was she supposed to do the same thing to him, out here? In the open?
I’m not this person , she thought. What the hell am I doing?
“I have to go,” she blurted.
“What … now?”
“Yep. Yes. I’m … ah … I’m late. So. You’ll be fine.” She grabbed the water from the ground and poured it into the radiator. Water splashed everywhere. “Just keep an eye on the heat gauge and the car will be fine. I mean … and I suppose—” she gestured toward the erection, because she was that stupid. “You … ah … will be too. I guess.” Oh my God, where was an earthquake, a flash flood when you needed it?
“Is this a joke?” he laughed, but there was an edge to it. He was getting angry.
She nearly ran, embarrassed, and her thong was unpleasantly wet and uncomfortable and her pride all worn and ratty. The door of the car slammed shut, sealing her into its familiar blandness, its safety ratings and good gas mileage. Yes . This was right. Even the emergency kit in the backseat made her feel better.
She drove away in a plume of dust, not even lifting her hand in a wave. Not even honking.
It didn’t happen , she told herself, turning up the radio, brushing her blond hair out of her eyes. None of that happened .
Chapter 8
Jackson braced his head in his hands and wondered why he scheduled budget meetings on Monday morning. It was like taking a sledgehammer to the day. To his own head.
“I thought … I thought we’d dodged the bankruptcy bullet,” Jackson said. “We were in the clear.”
“It’s not bankruptcy, Jackson. Not exactly. It’s just … reality. Look, you’ve done a great job, son,” Brian Andersen, the city treasurer and undoubtedly the next mayor of Bishop, took off his half-glasses and folded them up as if he were ready to throw in the towel. “You cleared up the pension mess you inherited. I thought for sure that would ruin us. Frankly, we’ve held on longer than I thought we would.”
“Let’s walk backward,” Jackson said, leaning back in the chair behind his desk. His hair was still damp from his morning swim, his body loose and boneless, his muscles unable to muster up a twinge despite the conversation. On a purely selfish note, thank God he’d managed to keep the pool open. Without
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