Climax

My Man - 1

Sam~~POV

Three years ago

It was a hot afternoon, there were no cold afternoons in this stinking town. I missed my jackets and scarves. I had thirteen jackets with varying degrees of layering. No use for them now, unless I get a transfer to some other state where it snows. Maybe I'd get lucky and be posted back home —Connecticut. I had no lasting love for my home, I wanted out for as long as I can remember. But now that I was far away, where my armpits were sweating like waterfalls, I missed home. The cool weather, the mild spring. It's been just a month, but this place wasn't for me.

I sighed and studied the afternoon traffic through the restaurant window. The main street was crammed with the bike show crowd. We had blocked the road on both ends for the show, there were bikers from all around the country to show off their prized possessions. I had to stand guard till five. It's only two now.

I took another bite of my chicken, wondering which state to choose. My gaze landed on the window on the opposite side of the road. There's a girl, with her back to me, who was in an animated conversation with a guy. Her body was perfect. Not in a modelling kind of way. A soft curvy kind.

She's in a fitting jeans that ended a few inches above her ankles, wearing those simple flip flops that showed off her feet. Her plump butt... lovely globes. They'd fit my palm just right. I could easily grab her and pull her body into mine.

I shook my head. Fuck, I shouldn't do this. I had a responsibility now, I couldn't go around perving at women. I had to be this model citizen, not a creepy man who looked down girls' cleavages and checked out their asses.

I took another bite of my food, my eyes went back to the girl. I'm far away, no one would know that I'm staring at her. Why not enjoy the beauty as nature intended?

She's wearing a sleeveless top that hugged her in the right places, creamy white arms flew up and down and sideways to match whatever she was talking. Her one foot was slightly away and she was leaning on it, highlighting her perfect back.

Continuing to look at her butt wouldn't be good for my dick. I moved my gaze up, her hair was wavy black mane, reaching just below her shoulders.

From the looks of it, she clapped her hands and laughed, clutching her stomach and the man opposite to her, who was facing the window, watched her transfixed.

She must be beautiful. There's no other reason a man would get that look.

Now I had to see her. Maybe have a coffee. And do a little perving up close.

I paid for my lunch and crossed the road. It was a wine shop. The girl was nowhere to be seen. I was damn sure she didn't come out.

So I walked to the counter waving to the guy there —Donnel. I met him last week at the bar. I didn't know he owned this place. I casually looked around. There were a few guys scattered around the aisles but no butt girl.

"Where's that driller?" Someone asked from a side door behind Donnel as I reached him.

"It's not driller, just drill. You left it here." Donnel said with a laugh.

A guy emerged from the side door, groaning.
"I'm a fish out of water here, instead of helping me you sit there and laugh like a psycho." He bent down and picked the power drill from the floor with lean pink fingers.

My brain froze for a second. This flip flop, this jeans, this shirt... fuck..

"Sam here is bored to death. You can bribe him for help." Donnel said.

The guy looked up and smiled.

Those eyes. Jesus freaking Christ. There's no other word. Beautiful. Fucking beautiful.

"Hi there Sam, I'm Millie." He extended his hand, swapping the drill to his left hand.

"Sam Quentin." I wrapped his fingers with mine, disappointed that there's no butt girl.

What a waste.

****

Millie~~POV

What a body.

If not for the grim face, Sam Quentin could be the man of my dreams. At least in the body department. Easily six inches taller and broader than me, he had my single heart beating wild. Every new man I meet could become my man. I'm that desperate.

But as my mama used to say, I don't judge the soup by it's bowl. And I don't buy soup based on the bowl either. I'm not that desperate.

"What kind of help?" Sam asked, indicating the driller or drill whatever.

Donny answered for me. "He's opening a pizza place in there. He doesn't even know the right end of a screw to drill in!!" He cackled.

"Shut up, asshole." I glared at him.

"In there?" Sam asked, confused.

"Yes, it's a restaurant place with an entrance from the other side, if you go out and right and take another right and then left, you'll see Millie's shop." Donnel explained.

"Oh. I can help. I've another half an hour break." Sam told me.

"Break? I don't want you to work on your break."

"It's all right, Millie. He's our new cop. It's his duty to help the public." Donny answered for Sam.

A cop. That explained the body.

Sam shrugged, "I can drill and screw."

"Just the man Millie needs." Donny said with a sneering smile.

Sam didn't seem to get the double meaning Donny very clearly put effort in making.

I rolled my eyes at Donny, his gay jokes were pathetic.

"This way Mr. Cop, let's leave this psycho to pry on some other victims."

Sam reached out for the drill. I happily handed it over and went into my new place shutting the door on Donny's winking face.

My restaurant. My new life. It's partitioned towards the back for the kitchen that shares a door with Donny's beer shop.

"You rent?" Sam asked, taking in my world.

"No, I bought it. Donny wanted money, it worked out. I'm lucky." I went and stood next to the framed pictures.

"Those are to hang?" Sam came next to me and studied the first picture. Every painting was framed in a big blue wooden frame to contrast the cream wall. I hand picked the paintings and frames.

"Yes, do you like them?" I don't know why I asked for his opinion. It's not like I'd throw them away if he didn't like them.

"Really nice." Sam leafed through all the eight frames. "Where do you want them?"

"This goes right here." I ran and pointed at the back wall.

"Why? Who's gonna see it there?" Sam asked, confused.

His brows bent and created question marks when he scrunched his forehead. It's cute.

"Me. I'm the chef."

"Oh." He looked at the picture again and a small smile blossomed on the grim lips. "You want to see a toothless baby drooling over a cheese stick while baking pizza."

"Exactly." I grinned.

He stared at me and blinked, the smile was gone.

"Let's do it." He lifted the huge frame effortlessly and came to me.

I wished he would smile again.

**** End of Chapter One ****