Copyright 2011, C.L. McCullough
All rights reserved, Lyrical Press, Inc.

He’d taken off his shirt. Oh lord, he’d taken off his shirt. He was dressed in nothing but low slung jeans, tight over his butt, worn so thin in spots she swore she could see skin. The muscles in his back bunched and relaxed as he reached across the tub with his funny looking knife, laying down more grout, working it into the crevices and working his muscles at the same time. He’d taken off the bandana and his hair curled wildly around his shapely head, looking virile even after the day it’d been through. His back was smooth, brown and smooth, V shaped, tapering down to a small waist from shoulders wider than they had any right to be. He was a fine looking specimen and every mother in the world would hate her for her lascivious thoughts. She was already feeling warm, but she’d best get used to it, because hell was even warmer.

She must have made a small noise--a moan…a groan…a sigh? He straightened and turned, raising a brow in a silent query. His well developed chest was darkened with crisp black hair that converged and arrowed down his abdomen to disappear beneath jeans that were just as low slung at the front as they were at the back. Sunny reminded God that strength of character was big in His book and to give her a little help.

“Just checking progress,” she managed to get out. “How’s it going?”

“About done, another fifteen minutes maybe. You got something else needs doing?”

Sunny’s strength of character failed her; the images his words conjured were not fitting for a lady of her years.

“No, you can quit for the day when you’re through here. Just making my rounds.” She smiled weakly.

* * * *
He watched her carefully. He saw her lick her lips, the tremble in her hands. The way she wouldn’t meet his gaze. The way her white shorts emphasized the tan of her slim legs, the hint of hardened nipples pushing at her thin top. A part of his own anatomy hardened in response.

“Sunny,” he said softly and closed the distance between them. He cupped her neck, gently rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

“Don’t…you shouldn’t…”

“Why not?” he asked softly. “I want to. Because you’re my boss?”

“It’s not fitting. I’m too old.”

“Why would you say that? I could say I’m too young, but I don’t think I am.” He tightened his hand, pulling her toward him. “In many ways I’m older than you, Sunny. Pray God you never find out why.”

“I can’t…”

He moved closer, drawing her gently into his body. Every muscle he owned went on high alert. He had never wanted anything as he wanted this woman. He pressed his mouth to hers, felt that sexy lower lip quiver and couldn’t resist stroking it with his tongue. Her hand came up to clasp his wrist and reluctantly, he pulled back.

“Can’t…or won’t, Sunny?” he said softly.