Setting the can on the counter by the stove, she rummaged for the can opener, opened it, then dumped it in the soup, giving it another stir.He watched...her, only shrugging and grunting in answer to her question.She continued stirring the soup, chicken cheese chowder, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, admiring the way his green argyle sweater pulled over his shoulders and across his chest.He was propped on the kitchen stool, one elbow on the counter, sipping a glass of water and. The door closed behind me, and she turned towards me with that mysterious smile of hers, those lush red lips curving softly upward, parting to let her speak in that velvety voice of hers. "You have a very nice home, Robert," she said. Simple words, no suggestive inflection, but the very sound of her voice made me want to take her right there, to rip off that dress, push her down to the carpet, to... I forced a calm smile, wondering that I wasn't sweating. I felt so very hot. "Thank you. Um, can. More

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