Man About The House

‘Okay.’

As testament to his increased height since he’d last been down here as a seventeen-year-old, his arms reached the cave floor without being fully extended. He released the flashlight, which rolled a little, throwing patterns of light and shadow on the dark crusty walls, and ‘walked’ his palms until he could get his feet to the floor. Standing, he turned in a small circle to survey his surroundings.

Structurally nothing had noticeably changed in the almost two decades since his last visit, but it irked him that more recent visitors had found it necessary to make the underground trek armed with spray cans. Unfortunately the absence of skeletal remains suggested the vandals who’d scrawled ‘RAP RULES’ in fluorescent yellow on the walls hadn’t perished from inhaling paint fumes in a confined space.

‘Brett! Are you all right?’

‘Yeah,’ he responded, dusting his gritty hands across the back of his jeans before crouching again at the entrance of the tunnel. ‘You can come on through now.’

Joanna’s mouth was pursed in concentration as she wormed her way to the end, but by the time she poked her head through at the end it was split into a megawatt grin. ‘Hi, there! Just passing; thought I’d drop in...’ She looked at the distance to the cave floor. ‘Drop being exactly the word.’

Instinctively Brett took a hold of her forearms. ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just ease out slowly.’

‘Gotcha,’ she said, obeying his instructions, although Brett was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything about putting her hands on his shoulders, nor about sliding them around his neck as she emerged further. But, reluctant to look a gift horse in the mouth, and needing to keep his equilibrium, he started inching his feet backwards. Unfortunately Joanna moved forward a fraction too far, at the same time tumbling him first onto his backside, then his back, before landing on top of him with an ‘Oomph!’

Joanna’s startled ‘Dam!’ was considerably tamer than the four-letter word which burst from him, although he wasn’t sure whether her furious blush of embarrassment was caused by his swearing, her part in causing the fall or the suggestive intimacy of how they’d landed. She was stretched between the ‘V’ of his bent legs, with her belly and breasts pressed tight against him as a result of his arms protectively tightening around her mid-tumble. And it had been a purely protective action, he assured himself.

Within seconds, though, she rallied herself. ‘Oh, Lord, I’m so sorry!’ she gushed. ‘It’s all my fault. Are you okay?’

Oh, yeah, it was her fault, all right. And he’d be just dandy once she stopped squirming and wriggling her body against his and the stupid voice inside him stopped chanting, This is your chance; kiss her, kiss her...

‘Brett... Are you going to be able to get up?’

He gave a dry, humourless laugh. ‘There’s no indication that’s going to be a problem. Although it’s a bit hard with you lying all over me.’ And getting a damn sight harder by the second! he added silently.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.