she might mistake his symptoms for shock and attempt to treat him. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea, he mused. He'd like to be under Lindsay's care. Hell, he just plain wanted to be under Lindsay. Naked, and with her long, luscious legs straddling his waist.
His feet had moved toward her on their own accord. He lived for this opportunity, dreamed of it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Now it would become a reality. Lindsay's legs at close range. All of them from ten toes to two thighs. No slacks, no shorts, no socks or shoes. Just miles and miles of skin au natural. Since the age of thirteen, when he'd peeked into his older sister's bedroom window during a slumber party and glimpsed Mary Beth Shoemaker in a pair of babydoll pajamas, Matt had been a leg man. Unlike Mary Beth, however, Lindsay's limbs were the stuff of pure adult male fantasy, and Matt indulged himself often.
Probably not very smart to be constantly obsessing about his roommate's girlfriend.
"S-s-sorry. I d-d-didn't see you.” Lindsay stared at the ground and tried to back away.
She was stuttering again. Matt liked it when she stuttered, liked knowing he was the cause. Whatever her feelings were for Joey, she wasn't immune to him, and that pleased him in a way it shouldn't.
"No problem.” He didn't lessen his grip on her arms. If anything, he tightened it. They were close enough to kiss. And could if he angled his head slightly and lowered his mouth. She had kissable lips, full and bow-shaped. And short, cinnamon-colored curls that any red-blooded man with an ounce of testosterone in his system would like to have spread over his pillow. Or better yet, trail down his stomach.
Matt's own stomach clenched as a mental picture filled his mind. Lindsay had no idea of her appeal to the opposite sex. If she ever figured it out, she'd have suitors crawling over each other to get to her. And Matt would be right there, fighting for his place at the head of the line.
Wait. No, he wouldn't. Lindsay and Joey were dating and one thing Matt didn't do was horn in on another guy's territory. Especially a friend. But if Lindsay and Joey ever parted ways ... well, then it was every man for himself.
Abruptly, Matt released her. The moment of truth had arrived. Afraid he'd not withstand the impact of seeing her legs all at once, he started with her feet. Millimeter by millimeter, he raised his gaze, taking in her slim, shapely calves, dimpled knees, and endless span of taut thighs. When he reached the vee where her legs joined, he almost lost it. Underneath the puckered yellow material of her bathing suit, he detected the slight mound of her sex. The pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
"You're shivering,” Lindsay said, almost in a whisper.
Shivering? Hell, he was shaking. “Am I?"
"If you're cold, I can get you a towel."
"I'm not cold.” In fact, he was burning up. In another few seconds, he'd combust. “Did you bring any sunscreen?” He tapped the tip of her nose with his index finger. “You don't want to get burned."
"No.” She gulped, her green eyes flashing. “I forgot."
"I didn't. Want to borrow mine? I'll rub some on your back for you. Get all those hard to reach places, like under your straps.” She flushed, and Matt grinned.
"No th-thanks. I don't burn easily."
"Another time, then."
"I don't think so."
She was wise to decline. He wasn't the least bit trustworthy. Only her reluctance, Joey's friendship, and the fact they worked together kept him from putting the moves on her. Twice during the six weeks they attended the academy together he'd made a pass, hoping she'd respond. She hadn't, clamming up and retreating behind an invisible wall instead.
After graduation—his and Lindsay's, Joey bombed the oral exam—they went their separate ways, not seeing each other until nine months later when they were both assigned to Station 156. By then, Lindsay had a chip on her shoulder the size of a tree trunk and dating a coworker was out of
Scott McEwen, Thomas Koloniar