Being an Adult (Part 9)

Against his better judgment Highfield had thoroughly enjoyed every second of their night together. In her company he had spent, quite simply, the best date ever. In less than 4 hours she had proved she was forthright, opinionated, brave, adventurous and a lover of good food, good wine (and good company). Highfield shivered and stubbed out his cigarette. He wanted her to be no more than a figment of his imagination, only then would he be safe from his raw wounds.

Behind him, Abbey unlocked the passageway door and stepped out into the courtyard. At first she didn't see him. She looked up at the night sky. She wished she could just forget about the evening but he haunted her thoughts. The simple fact that they shared the same apartment building, jangled her nerves. She'd be unable to sleep, no point turning in just now. As she turned, Abbey saw a figure across the lawn stub out a cigarette. So close she could just reach out, take two steps and touch him. She didn't. Instead Abbey excepted the pitiable no-win situation in which she found herself and the man she thought she could see in the half-light. Abbey strode purposefully to the back door and wrenched it open. She stepped inside.
"Wait"
"Why?" Abbey shot softly. It was all too reasonable, she thought, he was very clearly messing with her head.
"I seem unkind to you?"
Abbey didn't say anything, she wanted to run. She wore reason like a cloak, waiting with forbearance to see what followed. It wasn't possible, she thought, to be more miserable.

why aren't you trying to stop me (Part 8)

If Abbey had noted his progress down the hall she would have seen Highfield make his way out the back, into the stillness. Highfield wanted to smoke. He didn't turn on the light. In his minds eye he was back in the night before, as he enhaled. Back when Abbey had dragged her drowned-rat arse around the corner, into the courtyard and into his life. He exhaled and listened to the sounds of traffic, reasuringly a block or more away. He wanted her, didn't see any problem with being honest with himself. The problem for them was he wasn't ready. His body could take a one-night affair or a few casual rolls in the hay, (he felt his blood quicken at the thought) emotionally, after the last 18 months, he knew he wasn't the man he used to be and worse - couldn't picture himself being anything other than self serving in a relationship. His tattered heart needed time to mend. Highfield had been genuinely shocked when the wife he loved had asked for a divorce. He didn't pretend to understand women and he thought he couldn't quite handle the musings of this one - Abbey was headstrong and beautiful, such a woman was altogether too much of a handful for what he felt to be his emotionally exhausted self. Drawing in his cigarette Highfield imagined that the path least painful for them both, was the path of least resistance, creating distance, with or without telling her so.

A time and a Place (Part 6)

"Let's go for a walk first. I mean, I don't know where we are but I think we should take a look around, talk for a while and then go in. I don't want this to feel forced."
He was still looking at her, his earnest expression up-rooting her confidence.

Silence.

"Look, I just want to make love to you. And I think what you want, is to get to know me first."
He got out of the car and shut his door, making his way calmly to her side. Abbey felt anger rising, but at least he was honest. He was identifying the situation for what it was, a date with the promise of more when they reached the privacy of his rooms, like acknowledging a package that waited for them.
Abbey got out of the car by concentrating on making her legs work, she slid the substantial distance to the ground and planted her feet firmly before she dared to meet his eyes. The green pools sparked at her, all hunger and hesitation. Highfield leaned in and she thought he was going to kiss her, hell she ached for him to kiss her. Instead, he placed his nose millimetres from her neck, in an intimate gesture and sniffed, playfully, his wet tongue darted in and out until she could feel the ticklish dampness on her nape. Abbey squealed and tried to squirm away, laughing.
"What are you doing?"
"Puppy-sniffing"
Abbey laughed harder.
"I never knew that"
"I think it's a strange habit I learnt from my friends"
"It's very..."
"Over-familiar?"

In a moment the mood changed, he was still looking down at her, with a smile turning the corners of his sexy lips but his green eyes darkened and he leaned down to plant a hot, gentle kiss on her lips.
"You're very beautiful".
But Abbey thought, behind the smile and inside the to-die-for green depths she could sense a something hadn't been there before. Oh dear God. Abbey groaned, he was damaged goods.

She sure wasn't sure, how to take him. One minute he was playful and full of confidence and the next he was giving her soul-stirring kisses and searching looks.
"I never said 'Hey! wet lady in the rain, I'm an uncomplicated man who likes to smoke cigarettes in the dark, why don't we get to know each other?'" Highfield spoke softly.
"No, I guess not" She admitted slowly.
"C'mere"
Abbey let herself be led closer to his tall frame, til their hips met. Highfield gathered her up, drawing her torso into his, until his brown hair brushed her face as he leaned down to capture her mouth, making her thoughts swim. He insinuated his warm tongue into the hollows of her mouth and she closed her eyes. She could feel the warmth of his chest through her thin cotton shirt. A moment later, Abbey fluttered her eyes open for a fraction of a second and was almost undone by the closeness of his perfect features, long lashes draping his closed eyes. His mouth teased a further response from her, and she found herself sliding her arms around his neck, craning, stretching, to be closer.

The darkness of lust descended, Abbey felt warm and languid, her breathing changed. He must have heard it. Highfield's arms shifted and he almost lost his balance. Reluctantly, he released her.
"Hey Crazy-Lady, you're driving me insane"
"Why did you bring me here?"
"I wanted a date"
"Bowling?"
"What do you suggest?"
"Dinner. I want to eat with you, not play like dumb kids."
Highfield looked her up and down. He didn't know whether to be insulted or pleased. She was a slight woman and now she stood defiantly before him, donating her forthright opinion, hands on hips. Only her flushed cheeks gave away how vulnerable she had been just moments before. He almost laughed. The evening was not turning out as he had planned but she was a woman who clearly knew what she wanted. If he was honest with himself he was having a fine time, glad they were anywhere, together. Abbey's stomach growled. She threw a look at him and wrenched the door open.
"I want to eat a two course meal. I like soup and I feel like rich, buttery food tonight, like eating a cuddle. Do you know anywhere around here?"

As it happens he did. Half an hour later they pulled into the car park of a pub, nestled in exquisite gardens, just off the main road. Warm, inviting light spilt from within the A-frame buildings' apex. Chalet-style windows and climbing ivy gave it an oldy-worldy feel that set her at ease. Once inside Abbey saw the rooms were small and the furniture was wood, accentuated by red fabrics, cream walls and stripes. A waiter greeted Highfield and no sooner had they been shown their seats when the owner joined them at the table.
"Willard, good to see you" He cast a discrete glance in Abbey's direction, she wasn't able to stop herself from adjusting a hair behind her ear. He knows this place?
"Jeremy, the place looks great."
Abbey watched the two men exchange pleasantries. They were old acquaintances, it seemed. Abbey caught herself wondering if he had met Highfield's wife. She forced her treacherous thoughts away from the subject.
"You, my dear, must be Abbey" Jeremy offered, surprising them both.
"Highfield rang me this morning. He said he thought he might try to take you bowling but if you hated it, could he reserve a table as back" The older man grinned.
"I don't discount treachery" Abbey added smoothly, smiling at them both. She was pleased.

Abbey didn't care what they ate. She knew the food was delicious, the company excellent and she didn't need the coffee supplied at the end of the meal. As it was she was already shaking. Highfield drove them home, the conversation lapsing into silence. With the lights of the city fading in and out of view, Abbey appreciated the benefits of the good red wine and almost allowed herself to relax. Where were they going?
"Is this the new way home?"
"I didn't want to go home" Highfield countered her. "I want to take you somewhere"
"Ok" Abbey was sleepy and full.
"Ok you'll come along, or Ok it's a good idea to go somwhere"
"It's a good idea, seriously"

The words were prevelant in her thoughts as half an hour later they they waded through an abandoned lot strewn with rubble, small shrubs, bits of construction debri, bricks and steel. Where the dirt was piled to the walls, every now and then, there was a break in the stones big enough to climb to a higher vantage point. The lot was resplendent with old, concrete storage towers stretching upwards towards the sun. Highfield had talked her into following him, to climb to their pinnacle, for the view. Part of his argument had been him admitting he had done just that, two weeks previously, alone. He knew the way and it was 'sort of safe'. Not the kind to demure from a challenge Abbey kept her doubts to herself. He wasn't a crazy man, she didn't think. As he scrambled helpfully ahead of her with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old, she couldn't help but wonder about him. Her stomach was full, it was dark and dangerous. A successful ascent involved paying close attention to where one feet were, at all times and trying not to freak-out whilst looking for missing rungs, holes in the floor and trip hazards. Hardly the average sort of past time for a man in his late thirties on a Wednesday night. The were probably missing 'House' on the box. Abbey giggled to herself, narrowly avoiding losing her footing.

After a quarter of an hour, Abbey had to admit it was all worth it. They were around 30 stories above the ground, with the industrial precinct below them and further out, a glimpse of other suburbs and highways. She sat on the cold concrete and looked at her companion, making very sure she was leaning with her back to solid concrete. Highfield remained standing, hands in pockets looking reflectively across the night. His fine, fair features accentuated by the shadows on the rooftop. The shadows caught under his eyes and she was at a loss to even hazard a guess as what he was thinking.

Later, in the car as they pulled into a park near the apartments. Abbey breathed a huge sigh of relief. No matter what happened from this moment forward, she had enjoyed an amazing evening. Sitting in the cabin of his plush SUV, after spending some of the night in the wind, outside - she really felt -much more so than she had in a long time. The warm rush of emotion made her want to laugh. She smiled broadly, stifling herself.
"I've had a great time"
"Me too"
"Want to come up for a nightcap?"
As they stepped away from the vehicle, Highfield shook his head, smiling at her.
"No. I wouldn't want to ruin it".
At the door he excused himself, without even turning to kiss her. Abbey stood, assaulted by such a lack of ... everything. After a moment of pause she was able to move off towards her own front door.

Terracotta and Disbelief (Part 5)

The evening couldn't come quick enough. She stayed in her pajamas most of the day, had a shower at three and was wandering around eating fresh capsicum and hommus, when he rang. Despite the fact that her nerves were a-jangle it was her day off damnit and she was determined to claim some of it, at least, for herself.
"Hullo this is Abbey"
"Hey Crazy-Lady. How about I scratch you at 7?"
"You may do whatever you like" Abbey said dryly "Does this mean you have wheels?"
"I do"
"Ok. See you then, then"
And she hung up. Feeling silly, feeling as though she had over-estimated a situation, who talks like that? Was he a player? What provoked him to speak to her in his sleepy-casual tone (that he, no doubt reserved solely for women). It made him sound like a wanker. Abbey turned off the tv in disgust, she put on music.

By the time 7pm rocked around she was feeling mixed up about the whole thing. Her phone rang.
"I'm outside"
"Hullo. I see"
"Come down"
There was a pause.
"Don't forget your room keys"
She practically threw the phone down but smiled at his impertinence. In a moment she had grabbed what she needed and was making her way downstairs. He was waiting on the pavement, next to a Landcruiser. It was a nice car, a little too ostentatious but she didn't care. Not when a man like that stood in front of it. He was smoking, holding the cigarette leisurely in his hand as a single line of smoke curled it's way into the dusk. He wore dark jeans and an expensive, light green shirt, open at the neck. He must know it brought out the colour of his eyes.
Highfield grinned when she trotted down the front steps to join him, her breasts bouncing on her foot falls. He whistled and Abbey stopped before him. "May I?"
She looked up at him quizzically, as his lips descended on hers. He kissed her lightly, brushing his lips across hers. It was less of an embrace and more of a promise. Abbey grinned.
"Did you have a good day?"
"Better now"
He motioned for her to take the passenger seat.
"Where will we go?" He opened the door for her and she slid in. Tonight she wore powder-blue flares, that were all vintage good taste. They hugged her hips. She had paired it carefully with a linen, collared button-up blouse in two types of cotton. Her cork-and-leather shoes were tan, Abbey had swept her hair up into a high pony above her ears. She was a little uneasy at being dressed too casually, she'd gone for 60's chique. Who knew if it was fashionable? She knew it suited her and tried to remain at ease in her skin. He had whistled, that was a good sign, now he let his eyes linger on her breasts as he joined the seat across from her. The moment stretched. Abbey looked away, forcing her eyes forward, lest she reach across the gears and the hand brake and beg him to give her more kisses.
"We're going bowling".
Abbey raised an eyebrow but said nothing. As Highfield drove them out of town, they chatted and Abbey allowed herself a sneaky view of his profile. It made her breathe catch and desire pool in the centre of her stomach (or if she was honest, a little lower down). His long eye lashes framed those amazing green eyes, she couldn't see their colour at present but it was stamped in her memory. He was clean shaven tonight (unlike this morning) and he smelt of sandalwood and tobacco. It all added up to an appealing package alright, no doubt about it. The thought made her shiver.
Highfield broke off mid sentence.
"You're searing me with the way you're looking at me". His voice was low but he only glanced at her, keeping his focus on the road.
Abbey coughed and looked away.
"What are you thinking?"
The question surprised her.
"You're really hot". She chose to speak plainly, flushing a little at her honesty.
"I got nothing on you, Miss I've-stepped-out-of-another-era."
"You like it? I wasn't really born to wear 21st century fashion, my body is a ... different shape"
"I'd think you look stunning." Highfield spoke cool-ly but the words ignited the moment and Abbey found herself flushing again.
"Why don't you have a girlfriend?"
"Maybe I like to be free to see who I want"
He didn't look like he enjoyed being free, not at that precise moment. Abbey noted his jaw hardened as if he chose to clench his teeth. He stared at the road, un-blinking. She turned her attention forward too.
"Not everybody will tell you everything you wish to know." Highfield added ambiguously.
"You're married."
"No. Not now..."
"You were?"
"I was."
"Sorry."
"Yeah. This is the first time we have hung out together, outside of our apartment block. I don't want to talk about my ex-wife."
Abbey sighed, beautiful men were always taken. She shrank a little in her seat.
"It's not your sister's apartment is it?"
"No. We both own it. She took pity on me and helped me buy something, after the divorce."
"So you part own it?"
"Half. I half own it." He clarified
"Oh. Mine's a rental." She tried to say it lightly, all the while wishing the subject would change.
"See now, I know you've started thinking I'm damaged goods". Highfield spoke dryly. Abbey laughed.
"No actually I was thinking that as all the best men are taken, this is why I've met you. Because you were and now, unexpectedly, even for you, you're not"
"Diplomat"
"It's not a swear word".

They rode in silence for a while. Highfield pulled in outside a large complex and stopped the car. Around them dusk was falling. He felt awkward, shy, like he'd said too much and broken the magic of their new acquaintance already. Spoiled things and didn't know how to find his way back to where they had been. He flipped his green eyes to look straight at her.
"Do you want to go bowling?"
There was a pause.
"No."

Silence.

Bacon and All Spice (Part 4)

Abbey woke the next morning with a sense of wonder. She lay back on the cotton sheets and gazed at the high ceiling of her room. The ornate centre- piece drew her eye in an elaborate circle. Again! She loved it, the bed was large and comfortable, sunlight streamed in from her high windows. What kind of a day would today be? After the drama and mayhem of last night, could anything be as exciting?
Abbey worked at a car dealership as a receptionist and wrote gory, scary, beloved b-grade movies in her spare time. She had sold two, without calling herself Abbey. Her lounge room sagged with its massive collection of shlock horror. Today was Saturday and for once, in her short life, she didn't have to be anywhere, or meet anyone.
Abbey pictured her room in darkness, a snap-shot of happiness - popcorn, a mug of milo a smile and a dvd. She sighed and felt the weight of her bedding on her chest. For now, she could smile contentedly at the ceiling, alive and warm from sleep. Her thoughts drifted to a sexy man in her apartment block. The way he had kissed her, beguiling, honest and sensual. It made Abbey wonder why on earth something had made her hesitate, bringing their games to an end.
She knew, after all that if he was interested in her. A dynamic relationship, fueled by more than just sex beckoned. Hell, being together in the same room as him seemed to create sparks. Perhaps she wanted more than just sex, and that was why she had shied away from a more pleasurable evening. Her thighs throbbed with the weight of an unspent promise. Abbey knew it had taken almost all her gumption to step from his embrace and slow things down. Highfield wasn't a man she wanted just to fuck, she realised. He had an enthusiastic take on the world, a languid humour and a lazy wit, she wanted to get to know him.
Abbey reached over to her night table, searching for the piece of ripped white-lined paper, the kind she so detested. A bold disregard for consequences made her dial it.
His mobile rang. Abbey's heart thumped in her chest. Sleepily, he answered, the deep, soft timber to his voice causing a shock of electricity to run right through her. Abbey adjusted the pillow near her arm.
"Goo' morning" having not spoken to anyone, her voice was hoarse and though she didn't know it, wary.
"Morning princess." Highfield put no emphasis on the word. He chuckled down the phone.
"Did you dream like I did?" he said in a rich, male voice that made her think of golden syrup and chocolate.
"You know what I think?" Abbey spoke boldly, she felt the blood quicken in her veins.
"What is it?"
"Come over?"
"You serious?"
"I don't know"
She hung up. The uncertainty of the next few minutes hung on the air.
The doorbell rang and then she knew. All of a sudden Abbey felt no remorse. It was one thing to tease a man and another to crave his company.
With the confidence of a woman that knows her fridge holds bacon and eggs and mushrooms, she opened the door to all 6 " 4 of him blocking her doorway. He wore flannalette space pajamas, only the bottoms and a dark blue singlet. He filled out both the singlet and his pajamas nicely, she noted. His well shaped arms spilled out through the arm holes and she wanted those big warm appendages, desperately, to hold her. What impulse prevented her from throwing herself into his sturdy arms? Abbey didn't know, but she was glad of it. Already she was shaking with anticipation.
Lifting her gaze to a broad, hard chest that spoke of pure masculinity and sunlight. Abbey took a deep breath.
"Goo' morning"
"So you say" Highfield said soflty, as he insinuated himself into her living room. He looked both perturbingly gauled and self righteous.
"I can't really explain it..." In the moment that followed, Highfield reached up and placed a wayward lock of Abbey's hair behind her ear. She could have felt a pin drop. As she drew a breath, the world seemed to stop,
"I invited you for breakfast."
"Good." Highfield said the word lightly, though his eyes tortured hers with another question.
"I'm hungry"
"Well I went," triumphantly "in the rain last night, to the shops"
"So I hear". Highfield's reply was as dry as her mouth when he looked at her. Abbey wore Elmo flannelette pajama pants, not dis-similar to his own, light blue singlet, no bra and a cheeky grin on her face. What the hey? And she could think of nothing she would rather do, than spend a little more time with this enigmatic, cheeky man.
"You know what?"
"No". Abbey looked up at Highfield, through her lashes. To hell with decorum, she wanted this man and was sure that he could read it in her eyes.
Highfield mounted a grin on his face. She leaned forward without thinking to receive a kiss. He planted his warm lips on hers.
"I don't want bacon. I don't eat bacon, You don't know anything about me Abbey. What I do want - is an evening with you tonight. I'll pick you up at 8."
He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on over his pajama top.
"I'll see you then. You are crazy, beautiful and I don't know how I am going to stand it. But I'm walking away now, and I'll see you tonight"
He left. Abbey chewed her lip in her own sitting room. She got up after a minute and got out her kitchen skissors, she began to cut the bacon rind.

Willard and the Wet Woman (part 3)

"How can you be so sure?" Her lips were almost touching his as she formed the words.
"Perhaps because you're shaking". Highfield's voice was low and intimate. "Do you always shake?"
"No". Her response was feather-light, almost inaudible. His green gaze swept her face searching for something. For that brief moment Abbey thought he looked almost vulnerable, as though he was seeking her approval.
"Then if you don't want me to, I won't touch you". Highfield's hands drifted off her arms and back to his sides. Abbey could feel the cool air that separated them, the cold re-wrapping itself about her like a blanket. In the shadow after the warmth of his embrace, she began to fathom her regrets.
He was already sliding on his heel, backing away from her and widening the gap between them. Highfield's eyes never left hers.
Abbey swore, she knew a moment of indecision before a new and indescribable emotion welled up inside her slender frame. Before she could stop herself she practically threw herself at him, stretching on tippy-toes to wrap her arms about his neck, offering her lips to be kissed, hesitating only a second before the pleasurable feel of his lips met hers, causing her to murmur with relief.
"Hey Crazy-Woman" Highfield said softly "let's go inside?"
A door opened down the hall and their elderly neighbour peered out. Abbey made sure to shut the door softly before she took a lid off her giggles.
"I'm not in the habit/"
"I don't care. You're amazing. Less talk?" His large frame filled up her lounge room. The room had never looked smaller to her. Highfield took of his jumper and threw it carelessly onto an armchair
"Your turn" he challenged lazily, Abbey obliged.
Next Highfield stepped out of his leather shoes and kicked them away, his affected carelessness made her smile and he met her with a cheeky grin. He looked so sexy, his hair ruffled, standing in his socks. He humbled her, his openness and his eagerness to engage in the moment. She took a moment to appreciate his solid frame and broad shoulders that tapered to a lean torso. Highfield's thick, well defined arms showed he had the body of a man that worked, rather than worked out, to achieve his physique. Abbey eyed him silently, unconsciously tracing her lower lip with her tongue, she the thought of his naked chest.
"Abbey, it's your turn"
She grinned, and without a trace of the self-consciousness she was feeling, took off her shirt. Her full breasts were held in-check by a delicate, aqua lace balconette bra. Her bountiful bosom was almost bursting from it's constraints. It was her favourite lingerie and she knew she looked good in it, even though her nerves were on tenterhooks standing semi naked before this handsome man she barely knew. Still, she reasoned, he had helped her out of her clothes once already this evening so it was worth attempting to go the extra mile.
In admiration, Highfield offered a low whistle. He made no attempt to move towards her, standing his tantalising ground in the centre of the room. To her delight the next item he removed was his shirt. Dark hairs sprang from his chest and highlighted the path to his jeans. He was tanned and toned, she noted, suddenly self conscious of her soft, ivory midriff.
"Can I touch you now?" Highfield asked, unsteadily. He closed the distance between them in a few short steps and bent his head. This time he kissed her neck, warming the skin with his feverish breath and passing his lips lightly over her nape, Abbey shivered, afraid his caress would turn her limbs to water. He trailed his lips along her burning flesh, making a path towards the top of her breasts, her soft flesh reacting violently. There was no mistaking her pleasurable response as her nipples budded and hardened. The weight of Highfield's calloused, bronzed hand brushed her breast and she gasped, pressing herself closer to him. Highfield unwound just one of her hands that had somehow found their way around his neck once more, and let it rest on his body. She could feel the strange sensation of masculine strength, lightly peppered with hair, beneath her hands. He coaxed her exploring hand further, until it brushed the top of his jeans, of her own volition Abbey cupped the straining weight of his cock through his jeans. She heard his breathing quicken, he shifted his weight and played right into her waiting fingers, allowing her to feel along his length. Abbey was quietly impressed.
A tiny voice in her head registered that a man built as he was, probably got to enjoy pastimes such as this one on a not-too-infrequent basis. Abbey tried not to think, instead she shuddered. Highfield stopped abruptly and put a little distance between them.
"Am I going to fast for us?" His face was flushed but there was genuine concern, amongst the desire she could clearly read in his green eyes.
"I should see you tomorrow" Abbey began unsteadily. She went to the door and opened it. "I have to work in the morning."
Highfield ran a shaking hand through his brown hair. He picked up his shirt.
"You want me to go?" he said the words almost disbelievingly.
"I think it's best"
"Alright". Highfield tugged his ti shirt over his head and added more cheerfully
"Alright Crazy-lady but this isn't over"
In a moment he was out in the hall, closing the door discretely behind him without another word.

Willard and the Wet Woman (part 1)

Ranting under her breath she carried the heavy shopping up the long street home.
She let her mind drift to the waiting heater and a refreshing cider.
It was definitely raining now when she set out had been nothing more than a light drizzle.
It was only when she put her bags down at her doorstep that she came to realised her problem. Keys. She could see them in her minds eye next to the empty coffee cup with a hire company name on it, on her desk at work. Damn! Abbey sighed and took a longing look at the soggy bags of groceries.

She hedged her bets and made her way down the little lane to one side of her apartment block, sloshing in the over grown alley way until she got to her window, Abbey hoped to be able to jimmey it open and climb in through the study. After a half hearted attempted, she discovered it was tricky to get the sticky old frame to budge. By now she was soaked to the skin.

She swore and grumpily headed around into the enclosed area at the rear of the block. She had only nipped down to pick up a few things, after an exhausting day and now Abbey felt deflated and harassed. This was not a good start to a what could have been a much-needed relaxing evening. As she rounded the corner into the large, comfortable backyard area, she failed to notice it was lit pleasantly with bud lighting and the barbecue shone in the warm winter light, the glass glistened in the rain, and perhaps, at any other time the view would have been comforting. Now she eyed it with irritation. All she saw was a cold area, and a man smoking in the shadows. At least she might make her way out of the rain if she asked whoever-it-was.

How she was to enter her own apartment? Abbey cursed her lack of a phone once more and wondered if the man might able to help her. Dripping wet, her hair plastered to her head, her shirt clung to every cold inch of her torso. In a word - miserable. She felt the rain run off the bridge of her nose. Defiantly she shook her head before speaking.

He stepped further forward into the light when she addressed him. Crushing his cigarette underfoot and pocketing the butt, the man looked up in surprise. She was met with bright green eyes. His brown hair flopped in an unfashionable style over an eye. Abbey was a little taken aback at how good-looking he was and he was far more relaxed than she and drier. Abbey felt at a distinct disadvantage.

"I live here. I'm new. Why? Do you? Out drowning rats this evening I see." He grinned. "Nice weather for some."

Her heart did a strange flip flop and she put the sensation down to relief from desperation, this strange man might be able to help her get home after all.

"I've locked myself out."

His eyes smiled at her and he fought it back from reaching his lips. Abbey laughed despite herself.

"Yeah, yeah this sucks. I just need a phone to get my mate to drop some keys around, can I borrow yours?"

For a moment he met her eyes evenly without looking away. The air crackled and Abbey chose to think it was from the impending lightning storm.

"For sure".

He opened the back door with a key and held the door out. As she walked into the corridor Abbey sighed with relief. At last, she was away from the incessant rain and it shouldn't be long before she would be dry too. She shivered. Her clothes stuck to her frame.

"What's your name?" She asked quietly through chattering teeth as he opened the door to his apartment.

As the door swung open she was treated to a wave of warmth.

"I've just had the central heating fixed. Neat timing. I'm Highfield."

She shot him a quizzical look. Highfield extended a warm dry hand towards her and grinned.

"What's you're real name?"

"Willard"

"You're name is Willard?"

"Yeah it totally is."

Abbey borrowed Highfield's phone and rang Anita, who promised to make the trek in the rain in about 30 minutes. She hung up and looked at Highfield. Large toned muscles stood out from the sleeves of his powder blue polo shirt. He was hot.

"Take a photo. It lasts longer."

Abbey blushed. She wanted to sit but her clothes were sodden.

"I'll get you a towel while you wait..."

"That would be perfect."

"Like you." He said as he disappeared out the door.

"Excuse me?" Abbey doubted he'd heard her and was left wondering if she had heard correctly.

Highfield came back with a large and fluffy green towel exactly the colour of his eyes.

"Your mother bought you this?"

She took it gratefully and started to dry her dripping head.

"That she did. You're good."

Abbey found herself blushing.

"It matches your eyes."

"Really?"

"Yeah and I was just standing here hoping you didn't have a girlfriend."

The words were out before Abbey could hold them back. A silence offered itself to the room.

"You're hot" Highfield shot back. The moment crackled on.

Abbey laughed

"Like this?"

"Yeah, I can see you've got talent. I like my women wet."

He walked right up to her, until they were almost touching.

"You're clothes are kinda, clinging. And those curves..."

He didn't make any move to touch her as she stood in front of him, the towel in her free hand. Her grey shirt was indeed sticking to everything; her breasts, her tummy. She made a belated attempt at dignity, holding the shirt away from her chest self consciously.

"You know what they say, what's seen cannot be unseen."

Abbey shot him a bewildered look.

"And trust me, it's ok. I'm not eager to forget."

Highfield still didn't move an inch. She thought fleetingly that he looked a few years older than she was.

"You're leering."

"My apologies. Let me get you a dry shirt, if it's making you uncomfortable." And he ambled out of the room.

What was happening to her? Perhaps the storm was driving her crazy. Here she was, in the lounge room of a man she barely knew, saying the strangest bluntest things. Something about the whole situation was making her blood sing, her heartbeat pound in her ears. Abbey didn't like it. The whole evening was beginning to spiral completely out of her control.

He came back with a whisky, a pair of tracksuit pants and a large, light blue sloppy joe.

"Bung these on for the time being, Spunk-Rat, before I do weird things to that lovely body"

Abbey blushed red to the roots of her hair, Boldly she decided to accept the situation for what it was.

"Why?" she heard herself saying. She was wide eyed. "What would you do?"

"Well first Crazy Rain-Lady, I would... hey what's your name?"

"Abbey"

"Well Abbey" Highfield began huskily "I'd like to give you a hand getting out of these clothes."

And in a moment Highfield was closing the distance between them. He clasped her cold wrists between his thumb and forefinger and raised her hands above her head. He smelt of spice and sandalwood, slightly musky and very male. Her shirt came off. Highfield whistled but he made no move to touch her. He slipped the hoodie on, over her head. Next, he helped her ease the wet sweat pants from her cold, clammy legs. They puddled sadly on the floor. Grabbing her hand in his much larger one, he helped her step free of the wet mess. Her small frame was swamped in the blue hoodie and already, she felt much warmer.

"Fine lady?" he said softly.

Highfield was quite close. She inhaled his intoxicating scent.

"Do you feel better?"

"I couldn't have been wetter" She immediately regretted her words, worse, her comment did not go un-noticed. Highfield raised an eyebrow.

"I'm much better now." She quickly added.

"Your friend will be here soon with your keys."

"Yeah."

Suddenly remembering the whisky he scooped it up from the small coffee table.

"Share this with me?"

She gratefully accepted the glass and took an appreciative sip. All things said and done she was heating back up nicely. It was a relief to be away from the rain.

"It's been a hairy afternoon" Abbey offered lamely.

"I'm a hairy afternoon."

Charmed, Abbey laughed. She sat on the vinyl couch, her wet thighs and knickers made a rubbery noise as she shifted. She ignored it. Highfield looked at the tracksuit pants still in his hand and the woman in front of him comfortably sporting one of his jumpers like a dress. He folded the sweats over a chair and sat with her.

"How come we've never met?"

"This is my sister's place."

"Oh. Do I know your sister?"

"I don't know, do you? She's short, her name's Dinkum"

"I'd remember that."

"Yeah."

She looked at him steadily, wanting him desperately to touch her again. He didn't.

"Thank you for doing all this. I... I'm just an idiot really. I left my keys at work. Holey fuck is this place a fortress."

"It does have some crazy security. I mea, that's good. I guess. At least I got to meet you."

They sat in silence. Abbey sipped her drink, feeling the whisky curling around her frozen insides and unlocking the icicles, dislodging the discomfort.

"What do you do?"

"I don't want to talk about my job, or the evening. How about we concentrate more on the beautiful, semi-naked addition to my lounge room."

At that moment Abbey felt brave and indestructible. Giving him a long, slow, assessing look that traveled from his lap up to amazing green eyes, she felt the moment pop and burn around them. Then very gently, almost imperceptibly, Highfield lent towards her. Abbey let him. He kept his eyes open until he was within millimetres. He set his warm, soft lips atop hers, planting a kiss. Just as gently as he had descended, Highfield retreated. Her lips tingled.

"I'll stop this if you want me to."

She turned towards him and cupped his unfamiliar, stubbly face in her hands. God, he was beautiful.

"I don't think that's really necessary."

Highfield grinned back at her, the kind of full scale grin that lit his sexy eyes from within. Abbey felt a rush of emotion and pushed it to one side. For tonight, she did not want to think. Highfield ran a finger along her jaw.

"You have a magic about you." Highfield said softly.

Abbey scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous. We're both attracted to one another, tell it like it is."

For a moment Highfield looked taken aback. He tried to hide it.

"I'll take whatever you want to give" Highfield heard himself saying.

The seconds that ticked by were warm and ponderous. He leaned in to bridge the distance between them, but instead of planting a kiss, he let his hands wander, feeling his way through his own jumper onto her curves. Abbey closed her eyes as his big warm hand continued, first up to her ribs, close to the throbbing underside of her heavy breast and then on her thigh, where the material ended.

Only then did he really kiss her, a slow sultry exploration, almost like a question mark. Her full lips met his and she sighed into his mouth, the molten heat of his tongue probing deeper. Abbey became aware of the knock at the door.

"Anita" she said softly, creating distance between them.

As she got up to answer she looked back at the disheveled man on his own couch. Through his jeans she could see the strength of his erection. She smiled to herself and then back at him.

"I'll get the keys."

Abbey opened the door without looking back and stepped out into the hall.