Offshore

Chapter Twelve

Greg came back the next day and called round to Grace's house before even going home. She was unprepared and wearing a particularly unattractive long yellow T-shirt with 'Hell's Canyon, USA'' scrawled across it. There was an advantage to it though. When Greg glanced down at it in surprise he got an eye-full of her braless breasts and there was a spark of interest. She stopped herself from grabbing hold of him right then and there. She had a feeling he was the kind of guy who wouldn't appreciate a woman throwing herself at him. He would want to make all the moves.

In the kitchen, she made him a sandwich and felt his his eyes on her bare legs.

"How's your sister?" she asked.

"OK, I guess," he said, "Well she is now she's got rid of her jerk off boyfriend."

"You didn't like him?"

"No I did not. The guy was a loser. Wouldn't know what a real job was if it hit him in the face. Thought he was some kind of a writer!"

Grace was surprised, she'd pictured him as some tattooed meathead with a rottweiler. "And she was scared of him?"

"He's a drinker and can get nasty."

She sat and watched him eat his sandwich, his big hands making it look tiny. Just looking at the blonde hairs on his veined arms were making her feel horny. What was the matter with her? She felt like she'd been plugged into the mains. If he didn't put those big hands on her soon she was going to go crazy.

She reached up and tied her hair in a pony tail, making her boobs push forward. His eyes latched onto them. She put a hand on his denim clad thigh.

"Ur Grace," he said tentatively, "I really must be getting home."

Her hand moved higher and he shifted nervously.

"It's early, " she said.

"I'm tired. I was up most of last night."

"You need to relax," she purred.

He was wavering, she could see it on his face. She squeezed his thigh and with a resigned sigh he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, his big hand moving up to tentatively cup a breast.

She squirmed in his arms, instantly on fire and reached down to unzip his flies. He jumped as if electrocuted and grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"Moving things on," she said impatiently.

***

Grace lay in bed looking at the patterns of damp on the ceiling. Greg lay beside her snoring slightly, his arm slung across her waist. Sam wouldn't have needed persuading into bed, she thought. He would have had her out of that T shirt before she'd said hello.

***

Lisa took one look at Grace's face as she walked into the beach cafe, and said, "You've done the deed!"

Grace didn't even bother to deny it. "How did you know?"

"I have special powers," she said, ordering a double macchiato and a carrot cake. "Greg or Sam?"

Grace nearly choked on her croissant.

"I'm guessing Greg. If it was Sam you'd still be in bed."

"Of course it's Greg!" Grace spluttered, "Why on earth would it be Sam?"

Lisa fixed her with a hard stare, raising her eyebrows. OK, they were talking about Sam Anderson, that had been a pretty stupid thing to say.

"You blush every time I mention his name," Lisa said. "You're blushing now."

"Well of course I am, this conversation is embarrassing me!"

"Hi," Briana said breezily, sitting down next to Grace and dumping her huge purse in the middle of the table, almost knocking over Lisa's coffee. "Have you done Greg yet?" she asked without pausing.

"Jesus Christ!" Grace cried, "Do I have a private life?" but she couldn't help laughing.