CHAPTER TWO
Denny
I think the girl in the guest house is attracted to me.
Annamarie is a lovely girl so it might be all wishful thinking on my part, but I’m pretty sure she’s watched me every morning since she arrived here. She looks on while I complete my warmup workout and then leave for my run.
Of course, it’s difficult to tell if she’s watching me or if she just notices me. Since I work out right on the back porch before I go for my run, she doesn’t have to try to watch me to see me. She might not be attracted to me at all. She might just find the sight of me working out more enjoyable than staring into the trees behind the guest house.
I hope she’s attracted to me.
No, I don’t.
Well, I hope she’s attracted to me, but I don’t want to hope she’s attracted to me. I don’t need any complications in my life right now. I certainly don’t need a little girl. I need to get things figured out first. How can I help a little girl and take care of her when I’m such a spectacular failure?
No way.
Of course…
As I start with some stretches and try not to make it too obvious that I look toward the guest house regularly to see if I can catch sight of her in the window, it occurs to me that if she’s attracted to me, I could enjoy what that means without jumping into a relationship. These days, young women engage in sex without the expectation of a serious relationship, or, at the least, sex happens long before the relationship becomes serious.
She’s French, too. Europeans aren’t as hung up about sex as Americans, right?
If she’s attracted to me, I can enjoy that and enjoy her without a commitment. That might be just what I need to take the edge off and really focus on getting back on my feet. I sure as hell need to focus on that. I love Thad. We’re closer than brothers. Nonetheless, it’s humiliating as hell to need his help, to be here, living rent free in his house when just six months ago, I might have bought this house for him as a wedding present and not even thought twice about the expense.
Today, I have to think twice about whether or not I fill the tank with gas or just put in enough for a few days. All my friends used to be able to say they know a millionaire. Now, they can only say they own an ex-millionaire. Maybe that’s why I moved here. Here, only Thad sees me and knows. Back home, everyone knows.
God, blowing off steam with Annamarie would be a big help. That girl is everything I like in a woman, from her little girl eyes to her perfect little body. Her breasts are just the right size for me, not too prominent but not tiny either. I drop to the ground to do some pushups and thoughts of Annamarie are really starting to fill my head. It’s a good thing I’m about to run because I have no idea how in the world I’d deal with the feelings if I didn’t run them off. God, I might embarrass myself knocking on her door and hitting on her.
“Can I run with you?”
I turn my head and see her standing behind me. I rise to my feet and look at her. She wears pink tennis shoes and pink socks. She wears pink shorts tiny enough they make her legs look far longer. She wears a tight T-shirt too, skin-tight. The breeze has her nipples hard as hell, and it isn’t easy to look at her without noticing and being very, very obvious about noticing. Ordinarily, to run, she’d want a little bit looser clothes but on a day like today it will be fine.
“Is that okay, Dennis?” God! The way she says my name. Dehnees.
“Sure,” I say. “Have you stretched yet?”
She shakes her head and says, “I should have come to you plus tôt. Um… Earlier.”
I smile and walk to her. “No problem. I’ll help you.”
It may be that no man has ever, at any time, made a more obvious, or lame excuse, to put his hands on a girl’s body.
“Oh, merci!” she says brightly. “That means—”
“Thank you,” I say.
Dear God.
Dear God in Heaven, the feel of this girl’s body!
I help her through stretches and she’s not only perfect and petite, she also has an incredibly flexible and perfect little form. I help her bend herself in two and it’s a miracle I keep from squeezing her perfect little heart-shaped ass. I help her sit, legs spread wide, and I just want to get on top of her instead of supporting her and gently exerting pressure as she extends her arms and fingertips to touch first her left toes and then her right.
The girl gets more stretching in than she needs, and when it’s time to run, I realize I’m so damned hard there’s no way to hide it. The only thing I can do is hurry us along and get started. “You don’t run very often, do you?”
She can’t keep her eyes from glancing down at the way my cock pokes against my shorts. I’m glad I have relatively tight shorts on but it’s still embarrassing as hell. “Non,” she says, “Je n'ai pas depuis le lycée.” She doesn’t take her eyes from the bulge in my shorts.
“What?”