Instead, my eyes were drinking in Skip’s beautiful physique, that chest, those abs, the strong farm boy arms and hands. God, those hands! If he’d ...aid something, anything at all, I probably would have screamed for real. But he didn’t. He just looked at me with unmistakable desire in his eyes and smiled. His look made me feel sexy and attractive and, even more important, it made me comfortable with the idea of sharing a private sexual conspiracy. Then he looked down. Not at me, but at the front. He had a good bit of wind in his sails and I wanted to see which way it blew him. The pause lingered overlong and he pulled his wineskin up from where it hung beside him and took a long swallow."A chess game, yes..." he cleared his throat and flashed me a look. "Some of us see life more like a game of skittles. Some are moved to act, its true, but its just as true that most of us can only stand and wait for the blow to come and wonder whether it will knock us over this time."Drummon's. More

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