Under His Hand by Anne Calhoun

Author:Anne Calhoun [Calhoun, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Erotica, Short Stories (single author), Fiction
ISBN: 9781426857300
Google: VwR2yJj3WQIC
Amazon: B004GEAILC
Publisher: SPICE
Published: 2011-01-01T22:00:00+00:00

“You did this?”

She surveyed seven hours of work that would wash away with the next rain, and shrugged. “Yes.”

“Nobody helped you?”

“No.”

He took in her rolled up jeans with the muddy knees, her bare, dirty feet with bright purple toenails matching the purple streaks in her blonde-for-now hair, windblown from two braids, her shapeless hoodie sweater. His eyes showed a frank interest her petite, semi-Goth self rarely attracted.

“Impressive.”

After a murmured conversation he transferred his board to a buddy. She stood silently next to him and watched his friends load up their trucks and leave.

She smiled at him, ready to play the game that would put him in his place at arm’s length. “How are you going to get back to the base?”

He squinted into the setting sun, then at the nearly empty parking lot, then finally at her. A quirky grin crossed his face. “I was hoping if I bought you dinner you’d give me a ride.”

“I’d think about it, except I don’t have a car.”

This time she spoke without a hint of emotion, as if his unexpected invitation hadn’t sent a secret thrill through her. In return she expected disbelief, irritation, even a bit of blame for being so pathetic as to ride the bus. Instead, he threw back his head and laughed at himself, at her, at life, it didn’t matter, because she was done. With his self-deprecating sense of humor and deft, confident hands, he’d won this round.

While she stood beside him and tried not to gawk at his hands or the gorgeous, anatomy-textbook planes of his torso, he pulled a cell phone out of his backpack and sent a quick text message. Then he introduced himself, helped her rinse her tools and pack them in the canvas tote that held the trash from her picnic lunch. Almost right away a black truck and a red sports car pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. Silent and efficient, a bulky bald guy got out of the truck, tossed a set of keys to Drew and slidt into the passenger seat of the sports car. With a spray of gravel and mud the red vehicle zoomed back onto the highway.

He palmed the keys and looked at her. “Mexican? Thai? Italian? Your choice.”

Game over.

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