IMPALA DREAMS

Chapter 3

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His hands are so strong, so deft. He handles my components as if they're something precious, and he talks to me all the while; telling me how beautiful I am, murmuring in that voice … heck, it's like drowning in melted chocolate.

He's measuring my oil levels - he's so masterful with that dipstick - and I study the strong line of his jaw down the long, sweeping curve of his throat, down the centre of that broad, firm chest, down … down …

*Sigh*

A lady's gotta have her secrets, okay? And, surely you can't blame me for breaking down on purpose occasionally, can you?

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