I take a deep breath. I think the dress may be cutting off the oxygen to my brain. Fletcher doesn’t seem to notice, so I stuff a pair of flippers into the plastic bag. It is then we hear a crackle and a snap. The light goes out. I can hear Fletcher cursing in the darkness. “Dammit. The light burned out. I’ll have to get another bulb.”
“I think I saw some new ones in the hallway closet,” I call out and move toward him, only to collide right into him.
“Careful,” he calls out as he steadies me by holding my arms. I can smell his aftershave mixed with his masculine musk. I stumble over the words to thank him and try to straighten myself. My voice trembles a bit as rough tips of his thumbs brush against the tender skin on my arms. With my heart racing, I try to grapple my way away from him, only to trip over a stray oxygen tank and fall squarely into Fletcher’s arms again.
His chest is broad and muscular, and there is something solid and comforting about it. I can hear his strong but steady heartbeat through the smooth cotton shirt. His body heat washes over me like a tidal wave. All-consuming yet oddly exhilarating. Embarrassed, I croak, “I’m okay. You can let me go now.”
To my slight disappointment, he releases me immediately, and my eyes adjust to the lack of light. I look up and see the faint silhouette of his sharp features. “What did you say—” Before he can finish his question, our lips accidentally brush against each other. His lips feel soft, much softer than I expected. He hasn’t shaved in two days and his stubbles are rough but feels nice against my skin. My lips part and a small moan escapes. He swallows my moan and kisses me hard. One of his arms snakes around my waist and he reaches under my dress. I cling to him like he is a life raft and I am drowning at sea.
Under my dress, his hand gives my breast a hard squeeze and I moan louder. A damp warmth spreads between my legs and I press myself closer to him. The tips of his fingers are roughed by the handiwork he has been doing for the past few days. The sensation from them running over my skin sends shivers down my back. I cup my palms under his chin and hold his face closer to mine. He plows into my mouth and explores every depth and crevice with his nimble tongue. We are both breathing hard now. We still can barely see each other, but we can sense each other all too clearly. Every breath, every movement, every moan.
The small rational part of my brain tells me that I need to stop now. I need to push him away and tell him that this will never ever ever happen again. I am only here for a few more days before we will part forever. I need to cut this off before I sink any deeper. He is not someone I want to be involved with. I need to stop this before I do something that I regret.
But my body ignores those thoughts the way Fletcher is ignoring the confines of our clothes. Both of his hands are under my dress now, stroking and teasing the most sensitive parts of my skin. He sets me on top of a workbench and holds me close. I lean my body forward and ride higher against his torso. My legs are now tightly wrapped around his strong waist. To my satisfaction, I can feel a highly noticeable and sizable bulge in the front of his jeans.
“Hello? Anyone here?”
Suddenly, someone knocks on the unbroken part of the garage door from the outside. “I’m here to pick up the vehicle donation,” a voice explains. A hand tugs at the tarp and a head appears. I gasp. I don’t want anyone to see us like this! I pull down my dress and disentangle myself from Fletcher, but he just pins me down and keeps me in place.
“Get out!” He orders with a bellow of his deep voice. His hands hold my waist even tighter.
The voice sounds flustered. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have the wrong address. I tried the front door and no one answered so—”
“Just leave.”
Apologizing profusely, the man scurries away. We stay perfectly still until we can hear him driving away.
I want to laugh, but I’m sure he’ll think that I’m crazy. I bite down hard on my lower lip and don’t lift my head.
Staying very still and very quiet, I am highly conscious of the fact that Fletcher’s hands are still under my dress and my legs are wrapped around his waist. Then I can feel his hard body shake. Bursts of laughter spill out. His face buries into my shoulder and his laughter grows even more prominent. Leaning against his shoulder, I chuckle as well and inhale his intoxicating scent at the same time. Our laughter echoes and reverberate through our bodies. I feel like I am enveloped by a warm, masculine waterfall.
I am both relieved and disappointed by the interruption. I almost… did that with him. I blush at the thought. In a garage! Not that I am the kind of girl who needs silk sheets and rose petals, but I’d prefer my first time not to be within three feet of dirty rags and used motor oil. I glance up at him and wonder what it would be like to… do that with him. The sense of disappointment outweighs my sense of relief. But the moment is already lost, the spell is broken. At least for now.
He backs away and readjusts my dress respectfully. Extending a hand toward me, he helps me down from the workbench.
“Come.” He flashes me a charming smile. “Let me treat you to lunch.”
Chapter 6
Fletcher
“Where are
