Hot Property (9 page)

“Sort of senseless to leave now,” she
mumbled. But was she up to seeing him? Could she throw up the
shields, and face the man like a client?

She shut off the bike and pushed it in the
direction of the house. But that didn’t mean she was comfortable
with the choice she’d made.

She hesitated a second time when she heard
him humming a lively rock ‘n’ roll tune. She smiled. Her entire
body awakened with a smile. Keeping her shields in place was the
furthest thought from her mind when she worked down the kick stand
on her bike and hurried toward the stimulating sound.

When she saw him, her feet felt like they
went out from under her. He had his back to her and was pounding a
nail into one of the boards in the semi-finished room partition.
His hair was out of place and speckled with saw dust. His
sleeveless white tee shirt molded to his broad and tanned
shoulders. Faded jeans hugged his long legs. The same legs Betsy
had fantasized entwined around hers.

She could’ve stood there and watched him
work the remainder of the night. But she felt almost like a peeping
Tom and decided it only fair to make her presence known.

“Hard at work, are you?”

Skylar stood motionless and silent for what
seemed like forever before turning around. Then, another tense, yet
exhilarating time span of silence. But their eyes seemed to be
talking up a storm.

“This is a surprise,” he said.

“You’re working late. I mean isn’t the boss
the one who’s suppose to quit early?” Betsy knew she’d rambled on
to combat the powerful tidal waves of emotions breaking within
her.

“This isn’t work. Putting this home together
is pure pleasure.”

“Loving what you do for a living sure makes
life easier.”

“I prefer to think of it as rewarding.”

More silence while their eyes had a second
meeting and carried on a beautiful conversation.

“You must enjoy your work too to be out here
at this time of day,” Skylar said, and broke the stare by turning
back around to make a final swing with the hammer before tossing it
into his tool box opened on the floor.

Betsy snickered. “I’m not working. I was out
for a bike ride, saw old Betsy and thought I’d check out the
progress on the house.”

Skylar grinned as he spun back around to
face her. “The old girl does seem to stick out.” He’d managed to
move toward her before Betsy realized it. She could feel his breath
on her when he spoke again. “So what do you think of the place so
far?”

The deep husky whisper sent a chill racing
up and down her spine and she shivered. Before she had a chance to
respond Skylar disappeared behind the room partition and
materialized a second later with a jean jacket. He slid it around
her. Once in place, his hands remained on her shoulders. .

Betsy’s body temperature climbed to a record
high in a matter of seconds. She was fully aware the jacket draped
over her shoulders was not the reason why. The way his fingers
rubbed over her created the heat. When they stopped moving she
could feel the warmth from them penetrating through the material.
His body heat moved through her, filling her to the core of her
being with warmth.

He leaned over so his eyes were even with
hers and the inner heat increased. A fire broke out the instant his
lips closed over hers. Her body molded into his. As he moved his
lips ever so slightly over hers, and drew her closer, fitting her
body into the curves of his, Betsy felt her body quake on the verge
of some sort of spectacular eruption she’d waited a life time to
experience.

A blast of cold air slapped her in the face
when Skylar suddenly withdrew his lips. He only pulled back an inch
from her. When he began to speak, the heat from his breath chased
away the cold. “I don’t know about you, but that sure warmed me up.
Should we try it again?”

His lips returned to hers before Betsy had a
chance to speak.

The second time his lips slid off hers, they
made a quick swoop to her throat, tasting and teasing her superbly.
As he worked his way back to her lips, Betsy held onto him, drawing
him closer, wanting to absorb all of him inside of her.

“You’re beautiful,” he groaned just before
his lips collided into hers.

“Yo, boss man.” Charlie Webber signaled his
arrival as he approached.

Skylar’s jacket slid off Betsy’s shoulders.
She blushed as she straightened her shirt when the brute of a man
stepped next to them.

“What are you doing back here, Charlie?”
Skylar asked.

Charlie’s eyes lingered on Betsy. “Sorry,
boss. Didn’t know you had company.”

“This is my Realtor. Betsy Alexander,
Charlie Webber, my foreman.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss.”

Betsy nodded and smiled a greeting because
she simply felt too embarrassed to search for her voice.

“The wife’s havin’ some candle party at the
house. Figured you’d still be workin’ and I’d give you a hand.”

“Well I won’t hold you two up from your
work,” Betsy managed to say and began moving away from them. “Nice
to meet you, Mr.Webber,” she tacked on without missing a step or a
look back at the two men.

She almost made it to her bike when Skylar’s
voice rang out. “Hold up a minute, Betsy.”

She obeyed and stopped in her tracks.

“You don’t have to rush off. I’ll send
Charlie on his way and--”

Betsy stiffened before looking back at him.
“No. I really need to go.”

But she was having trouble moving away from
the spot. She felt paralyzed as his eyes gazed into hers. God she
ached for the touch of his lips on hers one more time, to feel his
strong arms around her, drawing her against him. The thought caused
her body to heat up all over again.

He glanced at her motorcycle. “The deer
start crossing on these back roads about this time of day. One
could shoot in front of you.” His hand landed on her shoulder and
gave a gentle massage. “Just let me get rid of Charlie and I’ll
drive you home, okay?”

Yes, send Charlie home so we can go home.
And--it struck her. If Skylar drove her home there’d be no stopping
the inevitable. Betsy knew she couldn’t handle a one night roll
between the sheets with Skylar Blakewood. It wouldn’t be enough for
her even though she believed it would suit him.

She gripped the handlebars to her bike.
“I’ll be extra careful.”

Disappointment spread over Skylar’s face.
“If you insist. But I’ll call you. Maybe we can meet for lunch
tomorrow, dinner and then….”

A great big smile landed on Betsy’s face.
“I’ll be waiting by the phone.” She revved the motor and was on her
way.

She looked back over her shoulder a dozen
times to him as she coasted down the hillside. At the bottom, she
stopped long enough to return his goodbye wave.

She rode toward home on cloud nine. Blinded
to her surroundings, she saw only his warm smile and those
captivating blue eyes. She ran her tongue over her lips to savor
the leftover taste of him. She inhaled deeply and continuously just
for an occasional whiff of the traces of aftershave his cheeks had
left on hers.

If she listened closely, she could hear his
deep husky whisper. “You’re beautiful.”

Did he really mean it? Reality began tugging
at Betsy until she plummeted back to planet earth. He probably told
all his conquest they were beautiful if it meant his sexual need
would be satisfied.

Betsy was fully aware it was Miss Sensible
putting these thoughts in her head. She didn’t want them there, but
decided to play it safe and keep her guard on standby.

Miss Sensible hadn’t taken away her high
spirits when she went in the door at home. As she tossed clothes in
the dryer and jammed a second load into the washing machine, she
unconsciously hummed the same rock ‘n’ roll tune she’d heard Skylar
humming earlier.

By the time she undressed and stepped into
the shower, she put words to the catchy tune. She lathered with
lavender scented soap, singing and whistling. As she rinsed, she
became silent, closing her eyes and allowing the needles of hot
liquid to prod and poke at her. She imagined Skylar’s fingers and
tongue pleasuring her over and over again.

The ringing telephone reached into her
fantasy and dragged her kicking and screaming back to reality. She
shut off the water and reached for a towel, trying to wrap it
around her as she dashed out of the bathroom and into her
bedroom.

She picked up before the answering machine.
“Hello.”

“You made it.”

The sound of his voice made her tipsy. Her
fingers released the towel and it slid to the floor. “You weren’t
worried that I wouldn’t, were you?”

“I know you can take care of yourself. But
there are all kinds of dangers on the road.”

Betsy smiled, enjoying his concern. “I got
home safe and sound.”

Silence on the line. Betsy listened to his
breathing and discovered her own had grown heavy with longing for
him--the feel of his gentle caresses and the taste of his lips all
over her trembling body.

“Suppose I should say goodnight,” he said.
“It’s just I really don’t want to.”

Betsy wondered if he knew the sound of his
voice was seducing her, or how feverish her body had become.

“My body--” The sound of her voice startled
her more than discovering she was stark naked.

“You have a beautiful body.”

Betsy giggled. “I meant to say I’m standing
here dripping wet.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“I was in the shower when the phone
rang.”

“So you’re naked?”

Betsy snatched up the towel from around her
feet and covered her front. “I have a towel.”

“I’d like to see that.”

Betsy swallowed the lump in her throat. “I
think you were right. We should say goodnight.”

“I want to come over, Betsy.”

Betsy glanced down her front. “Now?”

“I promise not to stay long.”

Oh yes, do come. Please hurry, her body
responded. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” is what she
told him.

Silence on the line again.

“No, I suppose not. Can we meet for lunch
tomorrow?”

Betsy knew the day ahead was filled with
appointments. No time for a leisurely lunch. No time for lunch at
all. But she couldn’t imagine making it through the day without
seeing him.

“Lunch sounds wonderful.”

“How ‘bout breakfast first? Lunch seems like
forever.”

Betsy melted all over again. Why wait until
breakfast. Another minute apart from you is much too long. Miss
Sensible intervened. “What time?”

“Is seven too early?”

Seven is an eternity to wait. “Seven is
fine.”

“The donut shop okay?”

“I’ll be there.”

At some point over the next several minutes
Betsy put down the receiver. She assumed Skylar did the same.

She pulled a flannel night shirt and a pair
of cotton panties from her top dresser drawer and wasted no time
putting them on. She crawled into bed determined to sleep fast so
morning would come.

Did he say she had a beautiful body? He did.
Tiny in stature, but she had the slender curves of a woman. What
she liked most about her body was the length of her legs. In shorts
or a skirt they made her look all legs and a lot taller than her
five foot two inch height.

The longest night of her life ended at six
in the morning when she began worrying she might actually nod off
and oversleep. She slid back the covers and swung her legs over the
edge of the bed. A few arm stretches and neck rolls and she finally
put the full weight of her body on her feet.

There was no need to waste time with
indecision about what she would wear to meet Skylar. Her lucky
dress seemed the only thing in her meager wardrobe appropriate for
the occasion. She felt like the luckiest woman alive. She was in
love with life--with Skylar Blakewood, her confidence building that
he felt the same.

She could make it to the donut shop in less
than five minutes. So she could take her time making herself
beautiful for their meeting. The primping took less than thirty
minutes. But she couldn’t survive spending the next twenty five
minutes pacing around her apartment. She set out into the foggy
morning.

Spotting old Betsy already in the parking
lot created panic. Betsy quickly checked her watch thinking she was
late. According to her watch, she had twenty minutes to spare. But
she hurried inside anyway.

Skylar had swung his long legs out from
under the table in a corner booth and was standing by the time
Betsy stepped in front of him

“You’re early,” he said.

His smile was like a breath of fresh air to
Betsy. “So are you,” she said, gazing up into his eyes.

“I woke up early.” He blinked and snickered
when his eyes greeted hers again. “The truth is I had trouble
sleeping. I think I was afraid I’d oversleep.”

Betsy smiled as he described her own
miserable night. “I think we both could use a coffee if we’re going
to be able to face the day.”

Skylar reached for her hands, sliding his
fingers between hers and drawing them to his lips. As he kissed
each knuckle, his eyes gazed into hers. “I can face every day as
long as I get a chance to see you.”

Betsy’s insides turned inside and out. Her
legs went out from under her and she was suspended in midair. It
felt heavenly.

“But I suppose we can’t live on love alone.”
He said the words as nonchalantly as he’d let go of her hands. But
Betsy knew he had said them. There was nothing wrong with her
hearing. Skylar Blakewood had more or less confessed he loved
her.

The next thing Betsy remembered was sitting
at the booth alone. Skylar returned soon after carrying a tray with
two steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of donuts, twelve varieties
in all.

“I forgot to ask you what kind you like. But
I think you should be able to find something here.”