Excuse Me

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  Mystic Moon Press

  www.mysticmoonpress.com

  Copyright ©

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Excuse Me

  About the Author

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  Ecuse Me

  By: Helen McNicol

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © June 2008, Helen McNicol

  Cover Art copyright © June 2008, Dawné Dominque

  Mystic Moon Press, LLC

  Santa Fe, NM 87507

  www.mysticmoonpress.com

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Mystic Moon Press, LLC

  Note—This book contains UK spellings.

  Dedication

  This one is for the girls in my life, young and old, who empower and inspire me every day.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Excuse Me

  "Excuse me, did you drop this?"

  Sasha thought it was a rather obvious question as she turned to face the man who had asked. How annoying could one person be? Did you drop this? Of course she dropped the money. Wasn't he standing in line right behind her? Didn't he see her bend to catch the coins before they tinkered onto the floor and rolled away from her grasp? Why was Monday morning always a nightmare?

  But as the face came into view, Sasha lost all train of thought, and anything that was adding to her frustration of being late for work, on the first day of the week, just melted into oblivion.

  He was a poster pin-up sight in the morning glow of the small coffee shop. His warm brown hair was haloed by the sun, which slanted through the Venetian blinds behind him, making him look somewhat angelic. He had the greenest eyes Sasha had ever seen, reminiscent of staring into the cool depths of an emerald lake. When he smiled his teeth were straight rows of polished pearls, a small dimple creasing the edges of his mouth. His skin was the colour of burnt honey; his arms covered in fine golden hairs, and long tapered fingers to finish large, labouring hands. His white t-shirt, possibly one or two sizes too small, framed his muscular torso, extending down into a pair of work overalls he had tied around his waist with the empty arms.

  Sasha smiled. “Yes, thank you.” She reached out to take the coins. As she moved to pull them from his grasp he clamped his hand over hers, letting his own fingers run softly down the length of her hand. Before she could control it, she let out a small gasp. He was smiling, teasing her so obviously, as he let his hand drop to his side once more.

  "You're welcome.” His voice was like molasses; oozing words in velvet tones only Sasha could hear. Self-consciously she glanced around at the queue to see if anybody else was watching them. The other people in line were oblivious to their existence, all focused on their own agendas of getting coffee and bagels and heading off to work. Quickly she spun round and faced the front of the queue once more, her cheeks rising to red with embarrassment.

  The middle-aged man at the counter now took his polystyrene cup of steaming coffee and headed toward the door. Everyone in line shuffled forward, and Sasha put her coins back in the purse they had escaped from. Her hands were clammy, leaving little outlines of her fingers on the red leather as she dropped her hand and wiped it quickly on her pants. Then she glanced at her watch, knowing full well only a minute had passed since she last looked there. She sighed. She was going to be so late.

  "Let me guess, you're running late?"

  There he was again, right behind her. He had moved up in the line, so close behind her she could feel his breath on her ear as he spoke. She quivered and closed her eyes, trying to keep her composure. He was taller than her by nearly a foot, and she could feel the warmth of him radiating through her clothes.

  "Uh-huh.” She wondered briefly how one person could smell so god damn wonderful. She half turned and smiled back at him. “I really should skip the coffee and just get there."

  He pointed to the front of the line, his arm brushing hers faintly. “Well, you're nearly there now, what's another two minutes?"

  She laughed, but inwardly she was thinking another two minutes standing this close to him, and she might just burst.

  "Well, its two minutes that will cost me an hour's pay.” She smiled sweetly, trying not to get lost in the ocean of his green eyes.

  "Ah,” he nodded knowingly, his eyebrows pulling together to crease his forehead, “Well, if you're already that late, you should consider not going at all."

  "Not going-?” she frowned then realized what he meant, “Oh, you mean like pull a sickie?"

  "Yeah, exactly.” He grinned.

  Sasha had never rung in sick to a job, when she wasn't, in the eight years of her working life. The thought had never crossed her mind. Other people did it, she knew that, but to Sasha it was something she would only do if there were no other way to get out of work. If she needed a day off, she applied for it. If she was genuinely sick, then she rang in, but even then she felt incredibly guilty.

  She shook her head, “No, I don't think so."

  "Come on,” he whispered, “Wouldn't you rather be anywhere else but in this line, stressed to the max, about getting to work on time? How good would it feel to just flag the day, have a freebie?"

  She groaned inwardly. His words were like melted butter, dripping temptation onto her soul.

  "Isn't there something you'd rather be doing right now, and someone you'd rather be doing it with?” He winked then and smiled. She felt like she was standing naked in the crowd, her thoughts so evident that he would see right through her at any moment.

  Her cheeks felt like fire as she blushed, but she let him see her embarrassment. She was already naked, so what was a little colour in the face on top of that?

  "Well, I haven't had any better offers.” She heard the words come out of her mouth but she couldn't believe she had actually said them. What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn't this person. It was pretty obvious he was flirting with her, but never in her life had she reciprocated in this way. She was the shy, quiet type. Sure, she had no trouble meeting men; she knew she was attractive with her long blonde locks, small waist and above average bust size. She simply reserved the right to choose who she let see the real her, and that normally took a few months. Most men she met these days were not patient enough for that. This one was different; he seemed to have no reservations of his own.

  His left eyebrow rose inquisitively, “Oh? That's really sad.” He grinned and pointed again, “Line's moving."

  They shuffled forward as two women left the line, giggling over their cups at some private joke.

  "You know, if I had a genuine something better to stay home for, then maybe I would.” Sasha flicked her hair back over her shoulder, but kept her eyes forward. She dared not look at him; her courage had not reached the strength she needed for that. The banter was one thing, but the eye contact at this point may kill her.

  He was closer to her now, if indeed it were possible. She could feel the knot he had tied in the arms of his overalls touching her back. Her senses tingled, up her spine and into the pit of her stomach, crawling like some animal wanting to be released. She felt his hair against her ear, then his lips scraped the skin between her neck and shirt, as he murmured, “I called in sick ten minutes ago."

&nb
sp; "Jesus Christ,” Sasha muttered under what breath she had left in her.

  "I've been called lots of things, but never that.” She could tell he was smiling by the sound of his voice. He straightened up behind her as the line moved forward. A businessman wearing a blue pinstriped suit and sporting a Charlie Chaplin moustache clambered to the door. He was struggling to manage his briefcase, coffee and the morning paper.

  Sasha was at the front of the queue finally. She took a deep breath and ordered a large mocha chino. Then without a word, or a backward glance she walked out of the shop. But it was already too late to go to work. She sat on the end of the bus stop bench, next to an elderly woman who smelled of peppermint and was holding a woven, cane shopping basket. Sasha's legs were shaking, so it wasn't even an option to walk away, at least not until she found out where her fate lay.

  A big red bus pulled up at the stop, its brakes squealing noisily. Sasha reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone, quickly dialing the number for her office. The old lady gathered her things together and stood up to get on the bus. From the corner of her eye Sasha saw the familiar figure in overalls emerge from the coffee shop. She watched him as he sauntered over to where she sat, then leaned against the glass pane of the bus shelter, his back to her.

  Cherry answered promptly after two rings, her professional receptionist voice buzzing in sickly tones down the phone.

  "Hi Cherry, it's Sasha. I'm not coming in today. I'm not well."

  His round, broad shoulders shook with laughter as Sasha clicked her phone shut and stuffed it back into her pocket. She stood up, watching the old lady climb laboriously onto the waiting bus.

  "I have never done that before.” Sasha smiled.

  He turned to face her, “What? Called in sick, or blown off work for a guy you just met?"

  "Try both,” On the outside Sasha was horrified at what was happening, but inwardly she was elated. Did she have any idea what she was doing at all? “I don't even know your name."

  He flashed a Cheshire cat smile, “My name's Sam.” He looked over at the bus then back at Sasha. Before she knew what was happening he laced his fingers into hers and dragged her towards the open door, “Come on, don't think; act."

  "Where are we going?” Sasha grinned as Sam pulled her into a seat at the back of the bus.

  "Does it matter?"

  Sasha giggled, “I guess not. Today's a freebie right?"

  "Hey, you're a fast learner.” Sam's eyes gleamed as he smiled down at her. Gingerly he dropped her hand and slipped his arm around the back of the seat, taking her fingers instead into his other hand. Sasha watched him closely. His fringe hung over his eyes as he bent towards her, his hair curling slightly at the nape of his neck as it thinned to a ginger blonde. She could see his mouth beneath the hang of his hair; his lips pressed softly together in a relaxed smile. She recalled how they felt against her skin and she shivered. As if reading her thoughts, he lifted her hand and took her fingers between his lips, letting his tongue run teasingly over their tips.

  She gasped and sat upright in her seat, then arched her back and leaned into him.

  "God, you don't muck around do you?” Her blue eyes were wide as she watched him. “Do you pick up many girls like this?"

  He shook his head as he dropped her hand and leaned in to kiss her. Just before he made contact with her mouth he whispered, “Just you."

  Sasha moaned and closed the gap between them, pushing her body up against Sam's chest as he kissed her softly on the lips.

  The whole situation seemed surreal. Had she really blown off work and jumped on a bus, with a guy who had come onto her in a coffee shop? Never before had she done anything so reckless. The thought of it only added fuel to her desire. To top it off she was now all over this man in public, on a bus of all places, for the world to see.

  Her body burned with excitement at the touch of this stranger; her senses filled suddenly with new emotions. His hand was in her hair, against her face, warm and wanting, pulling her closer so she was breathless, and powerless to resist.

  She didn't care who was watching them. She opened her mouth and let his tongue find hers. His breathing hardened as his arm looped around her waist. He pulled her even closer, and she turned her body so one leg crossed and dropped down between his knees.

  Her mind kept ticking over as he kissed her, harder, his lips moving against hers fervently. It was as if she were an actress, playing a part in a movie. She had no idea what was in the script or where this was all going. Well, she knew where it was going, that part was obvious, but how she got here, or why there had been no rehearsals she couldn't quite figure out. She'd been thrown straight into opening night.

  "Sasha,” Sam whispered as he pulled back slightly, “I think it's time to get off the bus, before we get thrown out."

  Sasha looked around and giggled. They were getting some strange looks, especially from the driver in his rear vision mirror. His head bobbed up and down disapprovingly.

  "Okay."

  They waited until the bus made a scheduled stop and then quickly rose from their seats, making a run for the back exit.

  Sasha almost fell from the bottom step, onto the pavement, in her haste. She laughed as Sam pulled her back to her feet. The doors of the bus thudded shut with a hydraulic whir and the vehicle pulled away from the curb. Sasha waved eagerly to a woman with short sandy hair, who was staring at them from the window.

  Sam laughed as they walked away, “You're just trouble, aren't you?"

  "Me?” Sasha looked astonished by his statement, “Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?"

  "I hope you didn't want that coffee.” Sam grinned. All thoughts of coffee had gone completely out of Sasha's mind, the moment Sam had pulled her onto the bus and into his arms.

  They crossed the road and walked down an embankment, to where the river flowed through a city park. Sasha loved this spot. It was a place on the Avon River where she frequently saw tourists and other people, at lunchtime. She had often wished she was one of them, sitting barefoot on the bank of the river, sunglasses on in the heat of the day, not having to worry about rushing back to work. Now was her chance.

  They sat on the river's edge and Sasha kicked off her black sling backs, wriggling her toes into the cool grass. She looked at Sam. He was watching her from his spot next to her, arms folded and rested on his bent knees. It was nearly nine o'clock and the mid summer day was warming up; large fluffy clouds moved across a blue backdrop in the northerly wind. Sasha took off her black dress jacket, folded the arms together so it wouldn't crease and lay it beside her on the grass.

  Sam grinned, “Hang on,” he leaned over and unbuttoned her blouse, just far enough to see a generous amount of cleavage, “Now you no longer look like you're rushing off to work.” His eyebrows pulled together and he looked wistful, “Where were you rushing off to anyway?"

  Sasha smiled. The soft wind blew her hair across her face and she pulled it back absentmindedly, “I work for Thompson and Gerard, it's a law firm."

  "A law firm?” He looked impressed, “Sounds interesting."

  "Actually it's a pretty good job. I organize conferences, arrange travel, coordinate parties and invitations for clients,” she smirked, “I also do dishes and make coffee when required. I'm the go to girl."

  Sam laughed and lay back on the bank. Even at this angle Sasha could not get over how incredibly handsome he was. He looked like a bronze Adonis lying in the grass, his arms stretched back and bent to support his head.

  Sasha lay on her side, bending her arm at the elbow and resting her head in the palm of her hand. Her blonde mane splayed onto the grass beside her.

  "Sounds as if you like your job."

  Sasha nodded, “Yeah, I guess I do. Hence the no sickies” She grinned.

  "Well,” Sam smiled as he rolled onto his side and pulled Sasha to him, “We'll just have to make it worth your while then won't we?"

  Sasha closed her eyes and breathed him in. The sun was war
m on her face and she leaned her head back, as Sam kissed her neck, his lips grazing her skin in soft, slow circles.

  "So, where were you supposed to be going today?” Sasha murmured softly.

  Sam groaned and lay back on the grass once more. Sasha rolled toward him, seeing something in his eyes she wished she hadn't. His jade eyes glazed over momentarily. He looked like a dog would, after it had been kicked; guarded and mistrusting.

  "Just to work,” his smile faltered momentarily before he looked back at her. When their eyes met his smile changed, almost as if he had managed to leave something behind when he looked at her.

  "Just?” Sasha questioned.

  "Just.” Sam replied as he rolled to his side. “I thought we were supposed to be getting away from work today?"

  "Yes, we are.” Sasha smiled and bent her neck to gain his eye contact again. His eyes flickered, revealing tiny brown specks in the sun. She pouted “Sorry."

  He smiled then, and his eyes seemed to clear. “No, don't be sorry,” he lifted a tanned hand and touched her face softly, “But you don't want to know about my life. Shit, I don't want to know about it right now."

  Sasha was beginning to understand that maybe Sam had a much better reason than she did for calling in sick today. Was he trying to escape entirely from his life? Was she a fantasy he had walked into, in order to forget everything else? It would explain the unusual and sudden way he had introduced himself to her.

  "Okay,” Sasha pushed Sam over onto his back and shifted her weight so she was on top of him. She straddled his midriff and sat up straight, her back leaning against his bent knees as if in a seat. She tugged at the knot he had tied in the arms of his overalls, “Then you don't need these on, right?"

  Sam grinned deliciously and placed both hands around her waist. The size difference between them was such that his fingers nearly touched at the small of her back.

  "I wouldn't have thought when I saw you this morning that you were this much of a tiger."