Chapter 4
He fetches the wrench from the tool bench to his left, which allows me to check out his bare back and tight waist in the blue-purple-red twilight hues.
“Damn,” I accidentally whisper, excited by his good looks.
There’s very little space where he stands, but he finds enough room to spin around and face me. The chub is gone from between his legs. Too bad. He holds the wrench in his right hand, awkwardly between his solid pecs, which makes him look like a tool model and causes me to drool. I want to smirk because he’s a tool holding a tool, but don’t.
He asks, “Excuse me? Did you say something, Lance?”
“No. Nothing.”