The sun felt good on my back. I wish someone else was down at the pool so I could get them to put some sunscreen on for me. I didn't want to get any darker than I already was. But, all the college kids were probably still in bed and everyone that worked for a living was out doing that, so the pool was my own little private paradise. I rolled over and sat up as I reached for my purse and looked for a cigarette. I found my lighter and fumbled around a little more until my fingers grasped the pack of Marlboro's down in the very bottom of the purse. Shit. It's empty. Shit. I want a cigarette. Shit. Oh well. It's probably time to go inside anyway. I stay out here any longer and I'll be lobster red instead of Puerto Rican brown. I giggled. A little joke between Katie and me. Everyone thinks because we live in Florida, have dark hair and eyes, and tan so easily that we're Puerto Rican. Couldn't be further from the truth, but we eventually tired of trying to correct people.
I gathered my stuff, stood up, and slowly left the pool area walking towards Katie's apartment. As I made my way up the steps, I thought I heard movement inside but thought nothing of it until I inserted the key and found the door to be unlocked. Mmmph. What the heck. Stepping inside, I saw a tall black man with a shiny shaved head and a fair degree of muscle tone emerge from the kitchen with a screwdriver in his hand. As he let his eyes roam up and down my body which was barely covered by my red bikini, I simply said, "Who are you?"
He let his eyes roam a little more before he said, "I'm Reggie. Katie asked me to fix her dishwasher."
"Oh. Okay. Katie did tell me it was broken, but I don't think she said anything about anyone coming to fix it."
He continued to stare, as if he were photographing my nearly naked body with his eyes as he said, "I said my name was Reggie."
Dumbfounded, it finally dawned on me that he just wanted me to tell him my name, and finally I said, "My name is Lindsey."
"Nice," he said with a smile. Bright teeth. Really bright compared to his black skin. Nice he had said. Just nice. I wasn't sure if that was nice, as in nice to meet you. Or, nice name. Or just plain it would be nice to rip off those red bikini bottoms and fuck your brains out right now. The look he was still giving me said the later.
He went back to the kitchen and I sat at one of the bar stools to watch him work. I don't know why. I should have just gone to Katie's bedroom and let him work. I briefly thought to put a tee shirt on over my bikini but figured. What the heck. He's already seen the goods. As he worked, I noticed that the muscles in his ebony arms were even more nicely toned than I had originally thought. Nothing huge like a bodybuilder. More like a nicely conditioned basketball player. Supple and lean.
"You live here with Katie," he asked as he continued to work?
"No," I shook my head. "I brought my daughter over here so Katie could take her to Vacation Bible School with her, and I was enjoying the pool."
"Why aren't you at VBS with them?"
"This will be the first year I haven't been a volunteer," I said. "But I have a teacher's conference starting tomorrow that's going to tie me up the rest of the week."
"Tie you up, huh."
I giggled. Oh shit, he's blatantly hitting on me and I'm blatantly allowing it. He smiled that I had accepted his inference. "Yes," I said. "As in keep me busy."
I shuddered inwardly as he seemed to be able to look right inside me and know how horny I was right then. Suddenly remembering that I wanted a cigarette, I walked around the counter into the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets. No cigarettes. Shit. I turned just in time to catch him staring at my ass. Smiled. "You got a cigarette?"
"No. I don't smoke," he said. "Not what you smoke anyway."
"Really." Intrigued. "What do you smoke?"
He chuckled. "Something eighth grade English teachers aren't allowed to smoke."
I started to respond. Stopped. Thought for a moment. "How did you know I teach eighth grade English.?"
"My daughter was in your class this year."
"Really? Wow. You must be older than I thought if you've got a 14 year old daughter." The son of a bitch knew my name all along. He was just fucking with me.
"Probably not. I'm 31."
"Oh. Okay. You're right. You're not older than I thought." We both chuckled.
