Just A Little Sex...

The place on her right looked deserted, with no vehicle anywhere. The one on her left with the bright-blue roof was lucky enough to have a driveway leading to what looked like a carport on the other side of the house, but she couldn’t see enough of it to make out any vehicles parked there.

Still, it would be just like Mr. Orange T-shirt to live in a house with a royal-blue roof, sky-blue walls and wraparound porches painted a dark rich red. And it would be just like her luck today to have him as a neighbor for the whole weekend.

Shaking her head, Zoe returned to the car, collected her various bags and set off down the pathway. She was halfway down the roughly hewn steps when something orange caught the corner of her left eye and her head jerked in that direction.

Big mistake. She should have kept watching where she was going, especially since she was wearing high heels. The second she took her eyes off the uneven steps, she misjudged a distance, one of her high heels caught against something and she lurched forward. In joggers or bare feet Zoe might have been able to regain her balance. As it was, she whirled with the bags in her hands in the air, and for one adrenaline-charged moment, she thought she could save herself.

But her center of gravity could not be righted and all was finally lost, Zoe tipping full front-forward. With a loud yelp she instinctively brought her hands up to save her face, and the bags came with her.

Just as well. For they cushioned her fall and possibly prevented her breaking an arm, or a leg. She still landed heavily, her knees getting the worst of it as she slid down a couple of steps further before coming to an ungainly halt.

She was still sprawled on the ground, totally winded, when a pair of strong arms slid around her waist.

“Are you all right?” a male voice asked as he hoisted her up onto her feet.

Zoe saw the orange T-shirt first and groaned silently. It would be him, wouldn’t it? Fate was being very cruel to her today.

“Yes, I…I think so,” she said, delaying looking up at him by dusting down her dress. But good manners finally forced her to glance up at her gallant Good Samaritan and say a proper thank-you.

She had to look up a good way, he was so tall. Taller than she’d imagined. And even more handsome, with a strong straight nose, a cute dimple in his squared chin and a perfectly gorgeous mouth.

But it was his eyes which captivated her the most. They were blue, as blue and as deep as the ocean. Eyes to drown in.

Eyes to watch your own wide-eyed reflection in while he rocks back and forth above you, his beautiful body buried deep inside yours.

Did she gasp out loud in shocked horror?

She hoped not.

“You’ve gone very pale,” he said, frowning. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’re not going to faint, are you?”

“No,” she choked out. “No, I don’t think so.” Though it was possible.

“Perhaps you’d better sit down for a few seconds, put your head down between your knees.”

Another erotic scenario exploded into her mind, one in which it wasn’t her head down between her knees.

Zoe swallowed a couple more times.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she said at last in strangled tones, desperately trying to pull herself together. “But I’ve lost my sunglasses. Can you see my sunglasses? Oh, there they are.” She swooped on them, and jammed them back on, hoping they hid her escalating panic.

“You’ve ruined your panty hose,” he pointed out.

Her eyes dropped to her legs, then shifted over to his legs, which were well on display, his colorful board shorts not covering up much.

They were the best-shaped legs on a man she’d ever seen. Totally tanned, long and very strong, with great thighs.

Well able to support you when he hikes you up onto his hips and then…

“Serves me right for being silly enough to be wearing high heels,” she blurted out. “It’s just that I drove straight up here from work. Didn’t really have time to change. I just threw a few things together and jumped in the car. My main concern was missing the Friday traffic heading north out of Sydney. But not to worry. I doubt I’ll be needing panty hose up here this weekend anyway.”

She was prattling on like a fool. But anything was better than conjuring up more appalling scenarios involving them both.

“I think your eggs might have seen better days as well,” he said dryly, and Zoe looked blank.

“Eggs,” he repeated, indicating her groceries which had scattered all over the place. The half-dozen eggs, which had been carefully placed at the top of the bag, had spilled from their carton, all of them broken.

“Oh, dear…” Zoe sighed, suddenly feeling very tired.

“I could go buy you some more, if you like,” he offered.

She stared at him. When guys started offering to go out of their way for you, it usually meant they fancied you. The thought that Mr. Orange T-shirt might be as attracted to her as she was to him, produced a mad mixture of guilty pleasure and even more outrageous thoughts.

Yes, go get me some more eggs, you gorgeous darling sexy man. And a dozen condoms whilst you’re at it.

Zoe was infinitely relieved she was wearing sunglasses, for surely the wickedness of her thoughts must be reflected in her eyes.

“Thank you but no,” she said stiffly. “I can manage without the eggs. But it was very nice of you to offer.”

“No sweat.” He immediately hunkered down and began putting her groceries back into the bag.

Impossible not to notice in that position that he didn’t have a big blubbery butt. His buns were as trim and taut as she’d feared they would be.

Afraid that any further ogling of his perfect butt would conjure up yet another wicked fantasy, Zoe wrenched her eyes away and hurried to pick up her handbag. But when she moved toward where her overnight bag had fallen, her gallant knight to the rescue was there before her, scooping it up first.

“I think I’d better carry these the rest of the way down for you. You’re still wearing those very nice but potentially lethal high heels,” he added with a wry little smile.

“Please don’t bother.”

“It’s no bother. I presume you’re staying at Nigel’s place down there?”

“Well…yes. You know Nigel, do you?”

“Pretty well.”

“Oh? How well?” She didn’t realize ‘til the words were out of her mouth how they might sound. The thought that this fellow might be gay hadn’t even crossed her mind.

He laughed, his blue eyes sparkling with genuine good humor. “Not that well. But we have a drink together sometimes when he’s up here. I live over there.” And he nodded toward the house with the royal-blue roof. “For the moment, that is,” he added. “The owner’s letting me stay while I do some renovating work for him.”

“It’s a very colorful house.”

“Yes. He likes bright colors. So what about you? Are you a friend of our esteemed big-city lawyer? Or a client?”

Zoe felt she had to terminate this getting-to-know-you conversation fairly quickly, or risk giving her far too attractive neighbor the wrong idea. She could not even begin to speculate what she might do if he started coming on to her. The thought was far too perversely thrilling for words.

“No, I hardly know Mr. Cox at all, to be honest. But I…uh…” She hesitated over revealing specific details of her life to a virtual stranger. “I know one of his partners,” she said, instead of saying she worked for Fran. “She asked Nigel if I could borrow his place for the weekend. I…um…I needed to get away from Sydney for a couple of days.”

“Ah…life in the fast lane getting too much for you, was it?”