The meeting lasted through six PM, although supposed to wrap up at five, no later. There was a long -and hopefully final- bargaining session set for 0900.
James and Missy had met once before, at a similar bargaining session between the two firms. Today she had bussed to work. She had accepted James' offer of dinner and a ride home thereafter. The rationale for the invite was reward for overtime work. Dinner had been quite lovely, the conversation very wide-ranging. Now they were sitting in her driveway in his rental car. Midnight was approaching.
They suffered through an embarrassed pause in conversation. It reminded them both of high-school angst. James unexpectedly took Missy's hand, brought its palm to his chest. She eyed him, wondering, but didn't flinch. He held her hand in place with his own palm, found the nearest button on his shirt, undid it. She watched his face, considering where this was going, what she might best do. She decided to do nothing for the moment. She would play wait-and-see.
He shifted his fingers to hold her entire hand, made as if to slide her fingers through the opening.
She held back: he didn't force the issue, just grinned at her in a way that disturbed her oddly. Almost a dare, edged with lechery.
"What?" she asked.
"Earlier, you said you liked hairy chests on your men. I decided to put mine into the queue for evaluation."
She studied his face in the dim green light from the instrument cluster.
"Go ahead." he said. "If you wish. No promises, no obligations."
She said nothing for several seconds, holding his gaze. Then she smiled, advanced her fingertips.
No undershirt.
And purest hell for hairy!
She hadn't been kidding in the least. She had liked Mister James a lot even at first sight. Now, deep in her lower belly a knot tightened. That produced a gusher between her legs. Her fingertips and nails played briefly on his chest.
Why was she doing this? It could progress in only one direction.
