![]() Hunter flexed his arm muscles as if he were aware of their appeal. Mitch’s gaze slowly travelled down Hunter’s tattooed arms. ![]() I left the restroom and paused this time as I passed Hunter and Mitch. Maybe this was a sign that I should be home working. The pants would have to go into the wash as soon as I got home anyway, and home was only a quarter-hour walk. After a couple of minutes and a rather quizzical look from an elderly man, I gave up. I made my way to the bathroom and dried my pants as well as I could under the air dryer. “God, yes, it was.” Mitch rubbed the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand. ![]() I know I have sticky hands-I’m assuming that was the reason for wiping them.” ![]() I passed Hunter at the door just as he caught Mitch’s attention. My wet pants still clung to my legs, so I skirted toward the restroom. I was just making things more awkward by watching, even if it was my instinct to observe. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |