catch up with part 1 here. part 2 continues after the jump...
Women, in Michael's opinion, were always trouble. Especially doe-eyed brunettes who had no idea how sexy they were. And if women were always trouble, then damsels in distress were some divine power's idea of a cruel joke. Whoever said God was a man had to be wrong, Michael had no doubt she was a woman, no man would be so sadistic and terrible. Because a damsel in distress always meant that somewhere around the corner there'd be a knight in shining armor prepared to save her.
Michael busied himself wiping his hands clean of the grease and motor oil that inevitably stuck to him as he worked with cars all day. He put away his tools and wiped his brow with the bandanna he always kept in his back pocket before using it to tie back his longish hair. He then turned to the young woman who had just walked into his life a few moments ago.
She was definitely a damsel in distress. Michael already felt the urge to slay all her dragons for her, his primal instinct to be the knight had already kicked in when he offered her a place to stay. If his legs could have bent the right way he'd of kicked himself for that. Just minutes after meeting her and already she was turning his life upside down.
Michael knew he was being a little melodramatic. But experience had taught him to be wary. His ex-wife, Isabel, had been demanding, needy, and unhappy with anything and everything that he did. It was no surprise that after two years of marriage she'd found herself a nice rich old man to take care of, and whose death would take care of her. Michael had wished her good riddance and good luck to the poor old geezer stuck with her, he only hoped the old man got his money's worth.
Michael also knew that not all women were like Isabel. And to be honest the damsel looked like she was nothing like Isabel. She stood there quietly, waiting patiently as he finished closing up the shop. She wasn't into babbling incessantly, something he was thankful for. People who felt the need to cover any silence with idle useless chatter drove Michael crazy. He'd dated a girl like that in high school.
"What's your name? I'm Michael by the way." Michael realized he couldn't just keep referring to her as the damsel in his head.
"Elizabeth Parker, but call me Liz everyone does."
"Great. Nice to meet you. Um…I have a bit more to do before I close up here, so why don't you take your stuff out back and you can take a shower and freshen up. There are fresh towels in the closet next to the bathroom door. And if you need anything, feel free to help yourself."
"Thank you, Michael. I think I'll take you up on that. It's just around the back? It's not locked is it?"
"Yeah, just out back, and no, it's not locked. I'll see you in a few." Michael turned back to the counter he was in the process of removing a stack of papers from.
*****
Liz walked into Michael's small home cautiously. Expecting to find a mess typical of a bachelor pad, she was surprised by the sparseness and neatness of his home. The walls were bare, and the tables lacked any sort of decoration. For a moment Liz felt it was almost as if no one lived there.
It made her wonder about this man who by his kindness to a stranger was saving her life. She shuddered at the thought of being outside with nothing or no one to protect her. Instinctively she knew Michael would protect her. She wondered why that was. She'd just been betrayed by a man in the worst way possible, why would she place her trust so easily in this man she knew nothing of.
She made her way to the bathroom, borrowing a towel from the linen closet. Again, she was surprised at how neat everything was, somehow she didn't expect that of him. But she wasn't about to complain either. She undressed and stood beneath the spray of warm water, washing away the dust and dirt she'd acquired on her hike that day.
She couldn't help thinking about Michael. He was an enigma. Living out here in the middle of nowhere, willing to take a chance on a stranger and help her just because. He'd offered her a place to sleep and food to eat, without any sort of intimation of expectations.
What if he had expectations? Liz thought as she stepped out of the shower. She was surprised to realize that she was in no way averse to meeting them. Michael had to be the sexiest man she'd ever met. When she had first seen him, big and broad-shouldered, he'd looked good enough to eat. His body was fit and well muscled, and when he'd appeared, sweaty and streaked with grease she'd barely been able to contain her impulse to fling herself in his arms.
Then he'd turned out to be such a sweet person, her knight in shining armor so to speak, it made her want to meet any and all his expectations very willingly. But she didn't think he really had them. He seemed to be too good to be true in a way. Liz paused in slipping on her shirt. Maybe he was gay. No, that was impossible. He was too sexy, too raw to be gay. She hoped so anyway.
*****
Michael walked in while Liz was still in the shower. He washed his hands and quickly set some pasta to boiling and began making a salad for dinner. It was rare for him to have company, the only person who would regularly visit was the cleaning lady he'd hired to come by once a week.
He heard the water stop running and couldn't help the mental image that the sound evoked. He imagined Liz naked, droplets of water running down her smooth skin, the silky hair of hers wet and sticking to her skin. He imagined following the path of a drop with his tongue, he knew the taste of her would be indescribably good. The sound of the door opening pulled Michael from his reverie.
"Hey."
"Hey. You need any help with that?"
"No. I'm okay. Do you want anything to drink? I have beer, water, orange juice, soda, and I might have a bottle of white wine somewhere in there."
"Wine sounds good. I'll serve it. If you want to freshen up I'll keep an eye on the stove while you're in the bathroom."
"Would you? Great. There's an opener in the third drawer down and the wine glasses are on the second cupboard to the right." Michael smiled and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.
Thinking to himself, maybe women weren't that bad after all, it certainly felt nice to have Liz around.
Part 2
Women, in Michael's opinion, were always trouble. Especially doe-eyed brunettes who had no idea how sexy they were. And if women were always trouble, then damsels in distress were some divine power's idea of a cruel joke. Whoever said God was a man had to be wrong, Michael had no doubt she was a woman, no man would be so sadistic and terrible. Because a damsel in distress always meant that somewhere around the corner there'd be a knight in shining armor prepared to save her.
Michael busied himself wiping his hands clean of the grease and motor oil that inevitably stuck to him as he worked with cars all day. He put away his tools and wiped his brow with the bandanna he always kept in his back pocket before using it to tie back his longish hair. He then turned to the young woman who had just walked into his life a few moments ago.
She was definitely a damsel in distress. Michael already felt the urge to slay all her dragons for her, his primal instinct to be the knight had already kicked in when he offered her a place to stay. If his legs could have bent the right way he'd of kicked himself for that. Just minutes after meeting her and already she was turning his life upside down.
Michael knew he was being a little melodramatic. But experience had taught him to be wary. His ex-wife, Isabel, had been demanding, needy, and unhappy with anything and everything that he did. It was no surprise that after two years of marriage she'd found herself a nice rich old man to take care of, and whose death would take care of her. Michael had wished her good riddance and good luck to the poor old geezer stuck with her, he only hoped the old man got his money's worth.
Michael also knew that not all women were like Isabel. And to be honest the damsel looked like she was nothing like Isabel. She stood there quietly, waiting patiently as he finished closing up the shop. She wasn't into babbling incessantly, something he was thankful for. People who felt the need to cover any silence with idle useless chatter drove Michael crazy. He'd dated a girl like that in high school.
"What's your name? I'm Michael by the way." Michael realized he couldn't just keep referring to her as the damsel in his head.
"Elizabeth Parker, but call me Liz everyone does."
"Great. Nice to meet you. Um…I have a bit more to do before I close up here, so why don't you take your stuff out back and you can take a shower and freshen up. There are fresh towels in the closet next to the bathroom door. And if you need anything, feel free to help yourself."
"Thank you, Michael. I think I'll take you up on that. It's just around the back? It's not locked is it?"
"Yeah, just out back, and no, it's not locked. I'll see you in a few." Michael turned back to the counter he was in the process of removing a stack of papers from.
*****
Liz walked into Michael's small home cautiously. Expecting to find a mess typical of a bachelor pad, she was surprised by the sparseness and neatness of his home. The walls were bare, and the tables lacked any sort of decoration. For a moment Liz felt it was almost as if no one lived there.
It made her wonder about this man who by his kindness to a stranger was saving her life. She shuddered at the thought of being outside with nothing or no one to protect her. Instinctively she knew Michael would protect her. She wondered why that was. She'd just been betrayed by a man in the worst way possible, why would she place her trust so easily in this man she knew nothing of.
She made her way to the bathroom, borrowing a towel from the linen closet. Again, she was surprised at how neat everything was, somehow she didn't expect that of him. But she wasn't about to complain either. She undressed and stood beneath the spray of warm water, washing away the dust and dirt she'd acquired on her hike that day.
She couldn't help thinking about Michael. He was an enigma. Living out here in the middle of nowhere, willing to take a chance on a stranger and help her just because. He'd offered her a place to sleep and food to eat, without any sort of intimation of expectations.
What if he had expectations? Liz thought as she stepped out of the shower. She was surprised to realize that she was in no way averse to meeting them. Michael had to be the sexiest man she'd ever met. When she had first seen him, big and broad-shouldered, he'd looked good enough to eat. His body was fit and well muscled, and when he'd appeared, sweaty and streaked with grease she'd barely been able to contain her impulse to fling herself in his arms.
Then he'd turned out to be such a sweet person, her knight in shining armor so to speak, it made her want to meet any and all his expectations very willingly. But she didn't think he really had them. He seemed to be too good to be true in a way. Liz paused in slipping on her shirt. Maybe he was gay. No, that was impossible. He was too sexy, too raw to be gay. She hoped so anyway.
*****
Michael walked in while Liz was still in the shower. He washed his hands and quickly set some pasta to boiling and began making a salad for dinner. It was rare for him to have company, the only person who would regularly visit was the cleaning lady he'd hired to come by once a week.
He heard the water stop running and couldn't help the mental image that the sound evoked. He imagined Liz naked, droplets of water running down her smooth skin, the silky hair of hers wet and sticking to her skin. He imagined following the path of a drop with his tongue, he knew the taste of her would be indescribably good. The sound of the door opening pulled Michael from his reverie.
"Hey."
"Hey. You need any help with that?"
"No. I'm okay. Do you want anything to drink? I have beer, water, orange juice, soda, and I might have a bottle of white wine somewhere in there."
"Wine sounds good. I'll serve it. If you want to freshen up I'll keep an eye on the stove while you're in the bathroom."
"Would you? Great. There's an opener in the third drawer down and the wine glasses are on the second cupboard to the right." Michael smiled and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.
Thinking to himself, maybe women weren't that bad after all, it certainly felt nice to have Liz around.
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