I quickly looked away,then looked back just to show that I hadn't been leering, then lookeddown just in case she had caught me."Hi Mason," she said."U..., hi Mrs. Bresner," I said as I shifted in my seat, trying to make upin coolness what I lacked in subtlety. I'm not saying I could havedefinitely pulled it off but I would have had a better chance if I hadn'tspilled my drink on the floor.I jumped out of my seat to try to catch the can and the stone skitteredacross the wood floor."Sorry, about. Bedroom windows strategically framed astonishing views of red-rock landscapes, certainly more interesting than the ceiling in the room, but still she saw more of the ceiling than the glorious view. She hadn't minded in the least. Sunday night, she'd cooked their dinner in his home back in Scottsdale, and he'd praised her culinary skills, comparing them favorably to his mother's, which pleased her as much as his appreciation of her body. Well, almost.They'd fucked over the hood of the Rolls, in. More

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