On a Hot Summer Night

Excerpt

She motioned toward the empty side of the booth with a gentle sweep of a delicate alabaster hand, “Would you like to sit down?”

“Love to,” Mason put his half-empty glass down on the table as he settled in across from her. “By the way, I like your shoes.”

Across from him, she slid one shapely leg out of the booth the hem of her summer dress fell all the back to her thigh as she held it high off the ground to turn her slender ankle before him showing him the emerald stilettos on her small feet, “I picked them up for a song,” she cooed. “You can have me for less,” she invited quietly as she let her eyes fall from his gaze to his hands. Reaching over the table between them she let her fingertips glide across them as she wondered what they would feel like on her bare skin, “You have very nice hands. Such long graceful fingers.”

Mason looked down at them, turned them over to see the other side then replied, “They work, so I guess they’re all right.”  He leaned across the table. “I’m a man so that means I’m pig-headed so, let me ask you something straight out; Are you trying to pick me up?”

“Is it working?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

His heart skipped a beat as he swallowed hard and felt something begin to stiffen under the table. He hadn’t sex with anything other than his right hand in months and she looked like a tasty proposition. A much better proposition than the hand around his glass anyway.  She didn’t look crazy but the crazy ones had a way of sucking you in and not letting you know they were bonkers until it was far too late. She didn’t look diseased. She wasn’t dressed like a hooker.  She just sat there staring at him with those nearly colorless hungry eyes.  “My name’s May—”

“I don’t care.” She interrupted.

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