"You're the boss," Shaw replied. "And please, call me Rifle. Everyone does."
"Very well," Kayla responded. "And you must call me Kayla. None of this boss or Mrs. stuff, ok?"
"As you wish … Kayla." Her name had a musical quality to it; he loved the way it rolled off his tongue.
Rifle knew it was totally inappropriate, but he couldn't help being taken aback by Mrs. Williams' – that title he had to keep in mind -- beauty.
Big, coffee-brown eyes a man could lose himself in.
Shoulder length, wavy, brown hair with sun-streaked reddish highlights that framed a stunning face, which bore practically no makeup. A button-like nose stood between prominent cheekbones that made a perfect frame for lush lips, which revealed almost too-white teeth when she spoke.
From what he'd read, she was in her mid-30s, but could easily pass for a woman in her early twenties.
Her lithe frame wasn't short, but she wasn't tall either. At 6'3", he surmised that he wasn't quite a foot taller than her, but she was a tiny little thing – one who would fit perfectly against his broad frame. In his estimation, she was no more than 5'5" and 110 pounds.
All of this he took in as she maneuvered the yellow, soft-topped Jeep Wrangler through the bumpy roads of this tiny island. With her cowboy hat perched atop her head to shield her from the burning Caribbean rays, he thought what a fly in the ointment her smoldering beauty could be.
Even though she had recently lost her husband and was his boss – and hence definitely off limits -- he knew her looks and his visceral attraction to her was something he definitely was unprepared for.
And this job was supposed to be a kind of respite for him. Oh boy. There went that theory!
. . .
Kayla remembered that initial meeting two years ago as she stumbled back from Rifle's onslaught. "I've been wanting to do that since the first day we met," he declared.
Shaking fingers desperately tried to adjust her thin, cotton blouse through which his lips had devoured one nipple mere seconds ago. She could still feel his hands between her legs, moving her panties aside to deftly stroke the inner most part of her – where no man had been since her husband had died.
"I know you want me just as much as I want you Kayla. I have proof in the form of your woman's scent on my hand right here."
Kayla swiped at her kiss-swollen lips. If Rifle hadn't pulled away, she would have let him take her right there on the oversized drafting table. He knew it and she did too.
While she stood and stared at him speechless, he continued, "I don't want the first time I take you to be where anyone can walk in and interrupt."
"But just know … I will have you Kayla. It's inevitable. I know it and you know it too."
Kayla stumbled out of the office, burning with desire … and something else she couldn't put her finger on.
Rifle had let her go this time.
But not for long, a little voice whispered … not for long.
END NOTES
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© 2013. Yuwanda Black. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be reproduced in any manner whatsoever, in whole or in part, without express, written consent from the author. Violators will be prosecuted.
3 Weeks 'Til Forever Page 11