She eyed his profile with some annoyance until he turned and looked at her head on. Savannah lost her train of thought. The man had muscles on top of muscles, stood at least six feet tall, a head full of jet black hair, clear piercing blue eyes, and a little over a five o’clock shadow, and he had just stolen her breath. When those blue eyes locked with her brown ones, the stumbling Greg was nearly forgotten. Well, that was until Greg swung blindly, catching her rescuer off guard and cold-cocking him on the nose.
Tool belt guy raised the pepper spray and sprayed Greg again, making him scream, “Son of a bitch!”
“Take your silly ass home Greg, and stop acting like a darn fool. If I ever see you anywhere near me again, I swear I’ll shoot you!” She took out her camera phone, snapped photos of him and tool belt guy’s nose, and then handed the phone to her bleeding helper who was trying to stop the blood flow, but managed to snap a photo of her condition. In her purse was her favorite handkerchief, which she retrieved quickly to apply to Mr. Handy’s nose to help stop the bleeding. They were a sight. His shirt was now covered in blood, her clothing was torn, her back was bleeding and the nearly blind Greg was stumbling about the parking lot. She kicked him in the butt again, just for good measure.
She didn’t know what made her do what happened next. Looking back on it, she probably shouldn’t have, but she was a helpful person.
“Come on, I’ll help you clean up, if you help put something on my back.” He was going to need ice and fast, if not, he would have two black eyes in the morning. She took him by the arm and led him to the elevator as he held his head back. Savannah steered the stranger, who had way too much sex appeal, toward the front door of her condo.
Looking back, she realized too late that her first error was letting him in the door.
Chapter Three
The ride to the third floor was quick. Each floor only held three condo units with an upstairs and downstairs. She unlocked the front door and led him to the downstairs bathroom. It only took a minute for her to grab a washcloth and head to the kitchen to load it with ice. When she returned to the bathroom, she found him sitting on the toilet with the lid down, cursing under his breath.
“Thank you for helping me,” she told him as she pressed the ice to his nose. “My name is Savannah.”
He extended a calloused upside down left hand, “I’m Jesse Orison.” His right hand was still covering his nose.
“I’ve seen you around the building. Are you the super or something?”
Jesse was attempting to get his bearings while trying to look at the pretty woman and stop the blood flow from his nose that was rushing to his pants, “Something like that.”
His shirt was covered in blood from his nose, which did not seem to want to stop bleeding. She remembered that she had an extra-large tee that her brother had left there and she ran to fetch it. When she returned, Jesse had removed his bloody shirt and tool belt so he could wash his face in the sink. His body was magnificent. It was easy to see that those climbing, winding, well-defined muscles were earned from hard work, versus carbo-loading and pumping iron in the gym. She lowered her eyes, ashamed that she had just gotten engaged less than an hour ago, and was now thinking unladylike thoughts about this stranger.
She could smell the sweat on him.
He smelled like a man who worked hard for a living.
She also smelled the angst.
He was reacting like a man in need of a woman’s care and attention.
The tension between the two of them was palpable. The pheromones he had deposited in that small space ignited something in her. Savannah wanted him with a fierceness she had never experienced. Leaning against the door jamb, taking in all of the awesomeness of Jesse Orison, a fleeting thought crossed her mind.... What if?
“I brought a first aid kit back as well,” she told him as she sat it on the counter. Jesse checked the contents and found some gauze and antibacterial ointment. Without warning, his massive paw encircled her forearm and pulled her into the bathroom and attempted to turn her to face the mirror. His nose hadn’t completely stopped bleeding, so Savannah turned back around and removed an applicator-less tampon from the first aid kit and shoved it up his nostril. His grip was firm as he turned her again to face the mirror, his man parts just inches away from her hips, radiating heat and beckoning her girl parts to join him for a party. Jesse’s careful hands slid her blouse off her shoulders, easing it away from the skin and fabric that had begun to stick to the scrapes and bits of torn flesh.
“It’s not too deep,” he said in a deep voice as he washed the affected area with a cotton ball, applied the salve, and then the bandage. Two pats to her collarbones and he took a step back. “There you go, all better.” She intentionally turned around slowly, allowing curious fingers to graze his midsection. As Jesse reached for the shirt she had brought him, she reached for his hands, interlacing her fingers within his own. Her ring scraped his fingers and he stepped back even further.
“I don’t dig in another man’s garden. I’m sorry.” He started to pull on the tee, raising it over his head, and Savannah became the aggressor.
Before he could get the shirt on, she grabbed the fabric, trapping his hands and blinding him. “What if the gardener hasn’t weeded in a while?” Savannah hopped onto the bathroom counter, pulling Jesse closer so he could feel the heat that was rising from her body. Her mouth touched the skin on his chest. Jesse jumped back as if he had been burned. Her fingers trailed across the broad expanse of his pectorals as she held him captive with her other hand. Pulling the fabric forward, he moved with it so their mouths were only inches apart.
“Jesse, I believe in staying in my own backyard, but there are times when you need to sink your toes in a new piece of real estate.” Her tongue ran across his bottom lip, causing his breath to catch.
Although he couldn’t see her through the cotton fabric, her scent permeated his nostrils, sending signals to his male parts to wake up. It was go time. “Is that your plan, to borrow me for a few hours?”
“If that is okay with you. I promise not to hurt you.” She licked his top lip.
“What if I don’t make that promise?” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly.
“I don’t need your assurances, Jesse Orison, I need your body.” She released the shirt by yanking it over his eyes.
“I can’t,” he told her, grabbing for his shirt. “I am not prepared and you are not in your right mind.”
It took her a minute to understand what he was saying as he backed away. Within seconds, he slipped the tee over his head, put his tool belt back on and handed her a business card, a simple one with his name and phone number on yellow card stock.. Nothing else.
Savannah looked at the card like it was a complex math problem. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Jesse took her face into his hands and kissed her lightly on the lips. “You have had an intense evening, with the attack and all. If you are serious and you want to be with me, here’s my number. Call me in a week.”
“And if I choose not to?” she asked as she stuck his card in the first aid kit.
“Then ...” he smiled as he tightened his tool belt. “... my lovely lady, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
Savannah was still sitting on the countertop in her bra looking confused. This man was actually going to walk away from her and leave her like this, all worked up with no man to ride. Quickly bounding to her feet, she stood in the bathroom door, staring at him in disbelief.
“You have the number,” he told her as he looked back at her one last time before he walked out the door.
It was a sorry Thursday and an even worse Valentine’s Day.
Savannah wasn’t certain why she didn’t mention the incident in the parking garage to Darwin, her mother, or any of her friends. Over the next few days, she kept a close eye on where she parked and tried to check and see if anyone was watching her. Thus far, it had been an uneventful week.
Darwin came over for d
inner on Tuesday night. She couldn’t remember anything that they had spoken about or any high points of their conversation. He claimed he didn’t care for her bed and refused to make love to her in the Condo. Once, when he had been feeling a tad bit randy, they went at it on the couch. By the time she was warmed up and ready to cut loose, he was finished and was urging her to hurry up. It had been a year and a half of average sex. She really needed something more than her friend in the nightstand drawer.
On Thursday evening, she had stopped for Chinese takeout and a new magazine and was anxiously awaiting her soft fluffy couch that had been calling her. She called Darwin to see if he wanted to come over, but he was busy. Next she called her girlfriend Sheryl, but she was tied up, literally. Oh well, this wasn’t the first night she’d been alone. She grabbed a plate from the cabinet and noticed the first aid kit sitting on the kitchen counter. She opened it.
Jesse’s card was sitting on top.
Savannah stared at the card.
The card stared back.
Savannah’s eyes wandered over to look at her phone.
The phone said, “Do it!”
One last look back at the card, which appeared to have moved closer to the phone, forcing her by a string of cosmic gamma rays she swore, had taken over her will power. She picked up the phone and punched in the number. He answered on the third ring.
“This is Jesse.”
“Jesse, this is Savannah Niden.”
He was quiet.
“From last week,” she said as she bit her lip.
“Ah, Savannah, how are you?”
“I am well, thank you for asking.”
She was quiet.
So was he.
“Well, it has been a week and I’m calling.”
“Okay,” was all he said.
Who did he think he was? She didn’t have time for games, plus he knew why she was calling. “Are you coming over or not?”
“I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” With that, he hung up the phone.
Savannah was making her second mistake. She had called to invite him back inside.
Chapter Four
Savannah checked her watch. It was five thirty. There was no time for a shower, but she rushed to her bathroom, freshened up, and brushed her teeth. She ran into her bedroom, changed her underwear, and turned back the bed. Although she had already removed her work clothes, she checked her legs to make sure they didn’t need a quick razor run over them before she slipped on a sexy black skirt and a bit of a high heeled shoe. High heels always made her feel sexy. At five fifty-five, her doorbell rang.
She opened the door to find Jesse standing there with his tool belt hanging on his hip, a formerly red metal toolbox in one hand, and a small black gym bag in the other. She opened the door wider to allow him entrance. He brought a toolbox ... thoughtful. The grey carpenter pants he wore showed the definition of strong thighs, and the polo shirt with an emblem of Montgomery Construction clung to all the muscles she would be gripping as she rode him to her happy place in orgasm heaven. The other item he wore was a smile that moistened her underwear.
“Hey, you,” he said as he closed and locked the door. He put down his toolbox, which clanked with the sound of his tools settling into compartments. He removed his tool belt and took off his steel toe grey boots. Savannah’s mind was on his tools. As he up righted himself, she heard a loud grumbling.
“Hey back!” She watched him closely. “Was that your stomach growling?”
“Yeah, I haven’t had much time to eat. It’s been a bit hectic today.”
“I ordered some Chinese takeout and have more than enough. Wash up and join me in the kitchen for dinner.”
Savannah wasn’t sure what she was doing, but her mama taught her Man Care 101: feed him first, then love him and let him sleep. As he washed his hands in the downstairs bathroom, she set out the food, two glasses of sweetened ice tea, two forks, two knives, and for a little flare, her good cloth napkins. Ah hell, why not? The iPod was cued up to some soft jazz and she lit a candle on the table.
Jesse came to the table and eyed the food and soft candlelight, and listened to the music, all while trying to disguise the large smile threatening to take over his face. “This looks amazing. Intimate and quaint. Thank you.” He took a seat and asked her to bow her head as he blessed the food. Just as she had been taught, Savannah stood next to the man, allowing her thigh to touch his arm as she fixed him a plate then made her own.
The man was full of surprises, as he did nothing crass like run his hands up her skirt or feel her butt, yet none of his actions resonated as much as a modest question he asked her before digging into the food. “How has your week been?”
Simple as that, a conversation was started. She told him she worked at the University in the research lab. The conversation then changed to his job and he mentioned an outdoor kitchen that was being added to one of the first floor models in the building, one that he had been assigned to oversee. After dinner was finished, Jesse collected the plates, washed the dishes, and placed them in the rack to drain.
Blue eyes bore into her, taking in her lips and caressing her body, but never in a manner that was vulgar or suggestive. “Can I get a washcloth and towel? I need to get some of the day off me.”
“You want to take a shower?”
“If you want it dirty, I can do that too, but I would feel much sexier if I were clean,” he told her with a very serious expression. A sly smile crept across his face as he stared deeply into her eyes, sending goose bumps up and down her arms. That look was the first sign he had given her that he planned to work her over.
A few moments later, she returned with a green hand towel and a pink washcloth. Jesse looked at both with some confusion as neither was large enough for him to towel dry nor cover any chunk of body part.
“I’ll do the rest.” Her eyes grazed up and down his body, coming back to his face, accepting the challenge he had silently issued earlier. Savannah planned to give back as good as he gave.
Jesse grabbed the small bag by the door, removing the clean tee she had loaned him. He was familiar with the units in the complex so he knew where the second guest bathroom was and made his way up the stairs. She could hear the shower and listened as the sound changed from water hitting the cold tile to water hitting his hot body. The sound of his whistling made her think of his lips. The sheer concept of him soaping up sent her mind into overdrive and then it shifted gears to her sex drive. Both were revving up for a steamy evening. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the turning of the taps and the cessation of the water.
“Savannah,” he said in a low voice from the top of the stairs.
She heard him call her name as she walked to the foot of the stairwell, looking upwards to see him standing there, the hand towel purposefully placed in front of him while water was still beading on his sun tanned skin. Slowly she climbed the steps. As her right foot hit the bottom stair, her skirt swished and she unbuttoned the first button of her blouse. With each step she undid another button, as if doing a stair-climbing strip tease until she finally reached the top of the stairwell. Her blouse was open, her chest was heaving, and her body was tingling. Jesse dropped the hand towel and pulled her in close to his wet body.
“If you hadn’t called, I would have come back anyway to return the shirt.” He smiled at her as he pressed his maleness against her body.
Her arms slipped around his neck, her fingers toying with the wet strands of his hair. “So, I guess that means you have been thinking about me.”
He almost growled the words as his lips pressed against her neck, kissing, nibbling, and inhaling her essence, “All damned week long, Savannah. I barely got anything done.”
“What were you thinking?” she asked as she leaned in and ran her tongue across his bottom lip like she had before.
“I would rather just show you.” He lowered his head, bringing his mouth to her lips. There was no resistance. Her lips parted to accept his tongue as he lifted he
r from the floor and carried her to the bedroom. He lowered her to the bed, bracing his weight on his forearms.
“Savannah, I am pretty strong, but I will try to be gentle.” He didn’t want to tell her how busy he had been in the past few months, leaving little if no time for what they were about to do. As his stomach had growled earlier indicating his hunger, his body was close to the same. He was hungry for her touch and her desire to love him. The whiskers from his beard tickled her, making contact with her skin as his kisses went down her neck to her breasts, and he massaged the mounds harnessed inside her bra. He released the prisoners, exposing the nipples, not even bothering to unfasten the brassiere.
“Don’t be,” she whispered as she pulled at his hair, then running her hands over his broad shoulders.
He pulled back and stood up. He was magnificent. “I will give you one last chance to change your mind. I don’t want to deal with your regrets later.”
“I’m not changing it.” She removed her blouse and unfastened her bra, which had been pulled down under her breasts. She made a futile attempt to kick off her shoes and remove the skirt, but she only managed to half-accomplish either task.
“Take off that ring when you are in bed with me,” he told her.
Savannah was so far gone in her need, she didn’t care that his words implied this would not be their only time together. Jesse pulled three condoms from his bag, some Astroglide, and a can of whipped cream. Her eyes got wide as she snatched the lubricant from his hands and threw it across the room. Jesse only shrugged and laughed as she crawled back onto the bed.
The only thing that came to Savannah’s mind was that Jesse must be a helluva handyman because his hands were magical. He used his fingers, his mouth, and every tool at his resource to warm her up. When she could no longer take the teasing, he applied the protection and poised himself for entry.
Thursdays in Savannah Page 2