Page 44 of Escaping the Past


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She walked slowly up the stairs, her bottom well outlined by her jeans. He watched the sway of her hips as she carefully traversed each step. Sweat broke out on his brow. He was thankful when they reached the top step so he could walk beside her rather than behind her.

She reached for the doorknob that would open the door to her room, but he beat her to it. Her hand closed over his and she smacked it playfully. “I can do it,” she said petulantly.

“A gentleman always opens the door for his lady,” Brody responded with a bow.

“Your lady?” She snorted. Very unladylike. And adorable.

He stood in her doorway, watching her pull the sheets and comforter back. The scene seemed almost too intimate to watch. Then her hands moved to pull her shirt from where it was tucked in her jeans. He imagined he saw the skin of her belly as her shirt fell back in place. He coughed gently. “Are you okay? I’m going to go to bed.” He pointed down the hallway as though she didn’t know where his room was.

She reached between her breasts and unhooked her bra. She slid her arms into the armholes of her shirt one by one and removed it without ever taking off her shirt. Brody watched in amazement. The fluttering piece of lace danced its way to the floor.

Then she was tripped up by her pants. Lou fought desperately with the button of her jeans, which would not budge. “Oh, good grief,” she said, wiggling her fingers for him to see. She giggled and said, “My fingers don’t seem to want to work quite right.”

He walked into the room, knowing he was walking into dangerous territory. “Do you need some help?”

“With my pants? Probably,” she said absently as she fell onto the bed on her back. She threw her forearm over her eyes and said, “I give up.”

He sat down on the side of the bed and tried to put on his best doctor’s face as he reached for the button of her jeans. “I’ll get it started for you and then I’m going to go.”

“How chivalrous of you,” she responded, laughter bubbling out with the comment.

Brody unbuttoned her jeans, the skin of her waist warm against the back of his hand. He unzipped her pants. “Can you take it from here?”

“Can I take it? Take what?” she sat up slightly, confusion apparent on her features.

Brody groaned. “Your pants, Lou. Can you take your pants off?”

She thought seriously for a moment and replied, “Oh, yeah. I can take my pants off.”

Before Brody could draw a breath, she reached to the waistband of her pants and lifted her hips off the bed. She slid the jeans over her hips and down to her ankles, where she shoved them from her feet and flung them on the floor. She lay back on the bed and covered her eyes again with her forearm.

Brody gasped and groaned as he saw her panties, narrow hips and long, lean thighs bared to his gaze. Her panties were pink lace and were no more than narrow strings on her hips. He forced himself to look away. He tried so gently to straighten her on the bed and then raise the covers over her legs. He took a deep breath and tucked the blankets around her. He moved her arm from over her eyes and she opened them slowly. His eyes met hers and he asked quietly, “Are you going to be okay?”

She grinned again and he felt his heart flip in his chest. “I’m going to be just fine.”

Brody leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. He lingered there and drew a deep breath, taking in the scent of her.

He sat back slightly. “Night,” he said softly, looking into her eyes.

“Night,” she responded. He got up and walked to the adjoining bathroom door. He verified Sarah was sound asleep and moved to walk out of Lou’s bedroom. “Brody,” she called out.

Sweat beaded up on his neck. If she called him back to the bed, he would be lost.

“Thanks for getting me tipsy. It was a lot of fun.”

“Glad to hear it, Lou,” he grumbled as he walked out the door.

Brody closed the door behind him and heard the click as the door closed, removing the temptation Lou presented. He’d thought his heart would jump out of his chest when she innocently took off her jeans, exposing hips, thighs and panties. Oh, God, those panties. They were nothing but wisps of lace that did nothing to conceal the treasures beneath. He remembered seeing her wearing her underwear that first day when he had caught her swimming with John. Even then, he had been interested and appreciative, but it wasn’t like seeing her close up, so close he could feel the warmth of her body. He could probably walk right back into the room, have sex with her, and get rid of some of the frustration he had been dealing with. The woman was driving him crazy and she did it without any games or flirting or coy glances. She was just Lou. Plain old Lou.

But there wasn’t anything plain about her. Brody placed his hand on her doorknob and started to turn it to walk back into the room. Then he hesitated. Who would hate him more the next day? Lou or himself? Probably both of them. He placed his forehead against the cool wood of the door and took a deep breath before he went to his room and took a cold shower.

He toweled off and pulled on a pair of boxer shorts. He dried his hair with a towel and tried not to think about the lady sleeping just twenty feet away. His imagination got the best of him as he tossed and turned for the next hour, unable to get her off his mind. Then, just when sleep was about to claim him, she began to scream.

Her terror was loud enough to wake the dead. Lou shrieked at the top of her lungs. Brody jumped out of bed, sure he would not need the baseball bat because he was used to Lou’s nocturnal noises. These screams were different. She sounded tortured. He flew across the room and flung open his door. It slammed against th

e wall in his haste. He opened the door to her room even more quickly and didn’t bother to turn on the light. Lou was still asleep. A tortured expression was on her face and screams still tore from her throat.

Brody sat down on the edge of the bed and grabbed her shoulders. He sat her up and pulled her up by her forearms. Her eyes opened and looked straight into his. Yet she was still asleep and struggled frantically to get away from him. She scrambled across the bed to the corner of the mattress and crouched there, still screaming.

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