They had known each other for years. He was the ranch supply rep she always talked to when she called to order supplies for the horses. Over the years they had chatted and joked and filled each other in on the happenings of their lives in the weekly conversations. He'd sent flowers when her Dog died, a blue baby rattle when the new colt was born and birthday cards and of course a Christmas card every year.
And then yesterday out of the blue, he asked if he could come by and see the place, maybe be able to offer some other products if he were more familiar with her set up.
Eve had always assumed he was in some office in New York or Denver or some other distant city. It was odd that he had never mentioned his closeness or asked to come by before. Maybe the timing just wasn't right. She was surprised and delighted when he told her he was just about a hour away. No wonder her orders always arrived so quickly.
She had set up a time to meet with him this afternoon. Mornings were always hectic. And this morning was worse. Of all the times for the water line to the corrals to break today was the worst. Actually it hadn't broken, it had been chewed clear through by those pesky javalina. This time when she fixed it she sheathed it in steel conduit up high enough to be out of their reach. She glanced at her watch. Christ, he was going to be here in an hour and a half. She trotted back to the house, kicked off her boots at the door and headed for the shower.
She noticed the smell of horse and sweat and hay and God knew what else that clung to her t-shirt as she peeled it off over her head and tossed it in the hamper. Mud crusted the bottom of her jeans, they joint the t-shirt in the hamper. Fifty-five minutes later she was just finishing drying her hair when she heard the distant sound of a truck turn into the drive. Damn, he was early. She jerked off the towel and flipped it over the edge of the tub as she hurried to the closet.
With no time to be picky she stepped into pair of underwear, clean jeans, grabbed the first bra in the drawer, never noticing that it was a sexy lacy one she kept for special occasions and jerked on a clean plain white t-shirt. After tucking it in she stopped for a second in front of the full length mirror just outside the closet door and ran a hand quickly through the tussle of blond curls. She inspected her face, there was no time for makeup, but at least it was clean. Unlike an hour ago when it had been so dirty you couldn't tell it was a face.
At the back door she heard the truck stop at the front of the house and shoved her feet into a pair of boots. She looked down and noticed the mud caked to the sides. Jeeze, where had she left the clean pair? And why the hell, was she so nervous? He was just here to make a sale. And he was probably 60 years old, bald and potbellied.
What she saw when she rounded the corner stopped her dead in her tracks. Damon sat in a white duel wheeled pick-up truck doing something on the seat beside him. His face was in profile to her. He wasn't 60, he was about her age. He wasn't bald, as she watched him, he lifted his hat and ran his hand through a thick head of dark hair and settled it back in place. She couldn't see anything below mid chest but the lean hard lines of his face didn't imply a pot belly. He was wearing a white shirt that set off the width of his shoulders. A fleeting vision of her resting her cheek there darted across her mind. Startled at the thought, she pushed it away.
He looked up and saw her standing there watching him. A smile spread across his face, she was just as he had imagined, but not a young as he had expected. That was better, young ones were always to... flighty. There was something in the way she stood, the fit of her jeans, and clean whiteness of her t-shirt as it clung to the gentle curve of her breasts that made his hands itch to feel it. No, no, not going there, he thought, we've only spoken on the phone. That is completely inappropriate for a first meeting. But she's so... sexy.
A little gust of wind ruffled her hair and she brushed it away and smiled back. He felt the quickening of his pulse and a warmth rushed to his crotch. Oh Lord, not now, what would she think if he stepped out of the truck like this? He sat for another minute, took a couple of deep breaths and sent the beginning of a hard-on back to sleep. He reached over picked up the clipboard that was on the seat and set it on the dash. There, she would think he had been completing some paperwork. He took the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the truck.
"Hi, I'm Damon. It's good to finally meet you face to face" He said walking toward her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, pull her against him and breathe in her scent, instead he extended his hand. "Hope I'm not too early."
"Not at all, your fine." He is definitely fine, she thought. No pot belly either, just a well formed body that really fills out that pair of jeans. Aloud, she said "I'd rather you be early than keep me waiting." As she took his hand, the first time they had touched, a warmth poured over her, she felt an instant magnetism and the prickly feeling of her nipples hardening. Good thing I put on a bra, maybe he won't notice. In her mind she stepped forward and hugged him, in reality she shook his hand.
He glanced down at her breasts and noticed her nipples had hardened a little. Their outline against the smooth whiteness of her t-shirt just below the faint edge of lace made his mouth water and he felt the tightness start in his jeans again and clamped down on the thought.
Involuntarily she glanced down at his dick and saw that is was starting to.... No, can't be, must be a shadow. Before she could be sure the keys jingled as he stuffed them in his pocket and hid it from her.
"Why don't we start with the corrals and go from there?" He voice drew her look back to his face. It was then she noticed his startling blue eyes, they sparkled with mischief and a shadow of veiled flames. A slight smile touched his mouth and she knew she had just been caught checking out his dick.