*
After trolling for a parking space for far too long, I was in the airport, leaning against a wall by the carousel where Andi would get her luggage, if Bradley’s flight details were correct. My eyes scoured the people around me from under my cap, worn in a futile attempt as a disguise. I was no Brad Pitt; I could leave my home and venture outside without being set upon by soul sucking paparazzi, but I was still occasionally recognized. I didn’t feel like being recognized today. I felt like…I had no idea what I felt like. I was acting like a moody bitch on the night before her period. I watched with a small amount of humor as a hot piece of ass struggled with a bright yellow suitcase the size of Everest. Seriously, what was it with chicks and luggage? Guys could travel to the other side of the world with one carry-on, but women had to pack their entire wardrobe plus worldly possessions. It constantly amused me to see men struggling with their woman’s truck sized suitcases, while their own backpack hung effortlessly from their back. No way in hell was I ever playing packhorse for a woman. Finally, the little doll got her suitcase from the carousel and turned around with a triumphant grin on her face. I gave her body a careful perusal. She was small yet her body still held soft feminine curves. She was wearing a little checkered dress with thin straps and frills around the bottom. It was a little too Elly May for my liking. The sexy, turquoise cowboy boots were pretty hot though, and an image of that little delicacy wearing nothing but those boots and maybe a scrap of lace filled my mind.
At that moment, the strangest thing happened. My dick twitched and I stopped breathing. For some reason, all logic eluded me and I figured if I breathed, the reaction in my nether region would stop. The pretty little thing began a hesitant shuffle towards me, an anxious smile in place. Struggling to pull her enormous suitcase through the crowd, she finally stood directly in front of me, the top of her head reaching my chest, and my mouth literally fell open. Her hair, which was tossed into a messy bun, wasn’t as dark a red as it used to be; I guess she was coloring it these days or was spending plenty of time in the sun. Her pale skin suggested sunlight wasn’t the reason though. Her dainty nose tipped up ever so slightly, her lips a perfect bow. Her eyes were the color of moss and surrounded with lashes that were so long they almost defied nature. Her skin was flawless apart from a few scattered freckles across her nose and under her eyes. My gaze followed her exposed arms then finally found their way to her small breasts. Too small, I thought to myself. But the tightening in my groin told me my dick didn’t care.
“Wow,” the pretty little enigma murmured in a voice that had a uniquely smooth yet husky quality to it, like a sex call operator. “You sure got taller.” I tipped my hat back and looked the little bumpkin over from head to toe once again. My brain was still caught in the magic of my physical response to this girl, and my mouth suddenly felt too dry.
“Andi?” I finally spluttered. Her smile was bright and beautiful, her teeth perfectly straight. Guess all that metal did its job.
“I didn’t think you would recognize me without the glasses and metal.”
Well damn, Andi had grown up. She was…beautiful. No fake tan, fake tits, or fake smiles here. She was all adorable, sweet, and innocent. Too sweet, too innocent, I thought.
“So, thanks for picking me up,” she continued, shuffling a little awkwardly under my stunned scrutiny. “I told Bradley I was perfectly capable of catching a cab, but he seems to think a woman in the city for the first time needs a chaperon. He actually used the word ‘chaperon’, like he’s some sort of eighteenth century nobleman, but you know Bradley, he’s like the Mr. Darcy of the twenty-first century. He’s been living in England too long, he even sounds like Mr. Darcy. In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings for your safety will not be repressed.” She spoke with the worst attempt at a British accent I had ever heard. She shook her head and chuckled. I wasn’t sure what the hell she was laughing at or who the hell Mr. Darcy was, but I could certainly agree with her observation of Bradley being overseas for far too long.
Andi began to shift nervously again, struggling with her enormous suitcase. “So, do you talk? Because if you don’t, you’re going to get sick of the sound of my voice pretty damn quick because I talk, a lot.”
There was no way I could become sick of the sound of that voice. That sweet Texan drawl with that smooth, smoky tone, sounded so good it was as if my ears were being fucked.