.”He pushed me away, “Funeral home. Arrangements; get me my clothes.”I tried to keep him in bed, “No I’ll...”He pushed back again, harder....He was shaking like he was cold. He said, “No, get my clothes. Go start the car.”I backed off. I found and handed him his clothes, “Mrs. Abercrombie has the girls.”He wouldn’t look at me, “Take me to the station. Then get the girls and go home.”I volunteered, “I’ll come with you.”He glared at me, “Did you hear me. Get the girls and go home. Don’t tell them. I stood up and looked down at his helpless body, my eyes drifted down to his belt - I smiled a wicked smile. My fingers worked at the belt buckle as I quickly slid the wide leather band from his jeans, I could see the bulge straining against the denim and slowly unzipped the front. As I unzipped the dark blue material I could see a white cotton waistband and as the zipper parted the smooth tanned skin of his thighs. I tugged at the legs of his jeans and slid them down off his legs - muscular. More

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