My Body-His Read Online Free PDF Page A

crap,” I said. Gathering my purse and
jacket, I jogged to the elevator. Slow down , I told myself. You’re being ridiculous. He won’t even be there.
    I pushed through the double glass doors and scanned
the parade of business-clad people hurrying to their cars to go
home, shop, or head for happy hour. He wasn’t among them. I lowered
my shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief. Turning toward the
parking lot, I stopped. I felt him. I know that sounds crazy, but I
felt him watching me.
    I turned back and scoured the faces around me. I made
a wide sweeping search of the area, finally looking across the
roadway. Shit! There he stood, leaning against the brick
wall on the other side of the street.
    The breath stuck in my throat. He was eying me like
his prey. His expression was stern and arrogant as he leaned on his
left shoulder with his arms behind his back. He wore jeans, worker
boots and a long-sleeved blue shirt with buttons and no collar. He
looked striking, strong and menacing.
    He waited.
    What the hell is he waiting for? Let’s get this
over with, I thought. I took a deep breath, noticing that I was
shaking again—terrified yet aroused. I’m not interested, I
told him silently, hoping that I would have the courage to say the
words out loud, please don’t come around again.
    I waited for a car to pass and then hurried across
the street. He pushed away from the wall, dropping a large bouquet
of flowers, and moved quickly up the sidewalk, away from me.
    “ Flowers ... you brought me flowers?” I called
out to him as I swooped to pick them up. I rushed, shuffling after
him, trying to catch up. “Listen,” I said to his back, “Friday
night was a fluke. That wasn’t me. This was a mistake. I mean ...”
I was panting. “Hey,” I yelled, “stop for a minute, will
you?”
    He continued to stroll briskly down the street. Why I
followed him, I don’t know, but I had to jog on my toes to catch
up. “Are you going to slow down?”
    “ You’re late,” he said over his shoulder and
continued to stride away from me.
    “ Well I just wanted to tell you that I think
this is a bad idea,” I hollered to him. “Are you going to slow down
or what?” I stopped.
    He slowed down, and then walked back to me. “Give me
your shoes,” he said.
    “ Give you my shoes? Why would I give you my
shoes?”
    “ Take them off, put them in my hand,” he said,
holding out his palm.
    I removed my shoes and handed them to him. He turned
and strode down the street, dropping my shoes in the nearest
garbage bin hanging on the light post.
    “ What the hell!” I said. “What’d you do that
for?”
    “ So you can keep up,” he said, pausing long
enough to answer me.
    “ Those are my favorite shoes,” I said, shaking
my head—more at myself than him.
    “ Well, if you want them, then get
them.”
    “ Really?” I said and carefully reached for my
shoes, attempting to avoid touching the food byproducts that filled
the can. “Why are you treating me this way?” I said, not caring if
he could hear me anymore. I pulled the shoes out and held them away
from my skirt.
    “ I’m sorry,” he said. He stopped, tilted his
head slightly and said, “I made us reservations at a Japanese
restaurant and I don’t want to be late. I am never late. That’s
another thing you need to know if I decide to spend time with
you.”
    “ You decide?” My brain felt like it had
imploded. “ You decide? What the hell am I doing here?” I
said, heading in the opposite direction.
    “ Here,” he said. He grabbed my upper arm and
turned me back around. He took the shoes from my hand and stepped
into the restaurant to the right of us. “Wait here.”
    Returning a few moments later, he bent down and
placed my shoes—fresh and sparkling—on my feet.
    “ Listen—” I said.
    “ I know what you’re going to say, but wait
until after tonight to decide.”
    “ You promise to leave me alone if I
say—”
    “ Of course, after tonight all you have