Sasche Donovan sat in the coffee house half an hour or so after her lesson with 'Big Brother'. The white ceramic mug cupped between her hands. Her hands were always cold for some reason. Frank said it was because she had no blood circulation what so ever. Sasche chuckled as she sipped at the hot cocoa with sweet orange flavored syrup. She'd never been a coffe drinker, couldn't handle the taste of it. Rarely, she drank hot tea - but only when Frank made it. She still had the leotard and short skirt on, but the dancing heels were replaced with an old beat up pair of standard issue US Army combat boots that she had left unlaced. She had to chuckle as she watched out the window - Frank was always pushing her to dress a little classier. Sasche HAD danced with the New York Ballet and many other prestigious dance troupes both in England and Europe. She smiled and leaned back in the chair crossing one leg over the other as the the one size too big leather biker's jacket coccooned her warmly. She was always cold, even in the warm summer months.
Jake was walking by when he caught sight of a beautiful pair of legs in the window. He had to stop and back up. 'Damn!' he thought. 'Legs like that should be a crime.' Of course, as he looked up to see the rest of the body attached to the legs, he revised that thought. A body like that should be a crime. Too bad she had her head turned to the waitress, but she had a rich auburn color to her hair. Maybe he'd stop for coffee on his way to work... Monica and her page could wait another 10 minutes...
Sasche's long fingers curled around the fresh mug of cocoa. The heat would have burned other people, but it felt good to her. Maybe it burned her too and she just couldn' feel it. However, she definitly did notice the man who'd stopped and backtracked to stare at her legs a few minutes ago. He was cute, in a boyish sort of way. And he'd come inside too. She couldn't help herself as she let her eyes roam over his back view. He had a nice rear end, the tight jeans showed it off well. Clean cut, clean and well kept shoes, longer cut hair, perfect for running your fingers through... or grasping tightly in the throes of hot, sweaty, messy passionate sex.
Sasche shot out of her chair as the hot cocoa splashed over the edge of the table. She'd been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she had lost her grip on the mug and dropped it onto the table. The cocoa wasn't hot enough any more to burn her skin through the fishnet hose, but it still stung. One of the waitresses ran over with a pair of towels to help clean up the spill and to let Sasche wipe herself off. But the towel hung unused in her fingertips as her dark brown eyes met his dark brown eyes.
Jake had heard the crunch of something hitting a table and then the scraping of a chair on the floor. He turned around from the cash register where he was paying for his coffee, one hand immediately covering his gun in case something happened. All he saw was the woman from the window with a towel in her hand and what looked like cocoa on her skirt... and she was watching him intently. Despite the cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand, Jake shivered. Those eyes were so dark they were almost black. On their own, his feet guided him over to the woman.
"You alright miss?" He couldn't tear his eyes from hers. The waitress said something about bringing her a new drink... or something like that...
Sasche just stared. She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help herself. Vaguely she saw the waitress look between the two of them and then grin widely. As he reached out to take the towel from her hands, Sasche jumped. She jerked her hands back quickly, not because she was frightened, but because she didn't want him to feel how cold her hands were. She was self conscious about that and had been since she noticed it a few months ago.
Jake frowned. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just going to wipe your hands off." He motioned to her hands.
Sasche looked down. They were dripping with cocoa where it'd splashed all over.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry." She picked up the towel and wiped her own hands off.
Her accent was clipped, something he couldn't place. He was sure he'd heard it before. But her voice... it was mellow, rich. It slid over his ears like honeyed whiskey did down your throat... and what a soft slender throat she had too. Perfect for kissing, nibbling, stroking...
Jake blushed and looked down. He didn't even know this woman's name and he was having x-rated fantasies about her. Thankfully the waitress brought back the woman's drink - this time in a to go cup with a lid. With a shy smile, Sasche took it and stepped past Jake. For a moment he just watched her walk, the way her hips rose and fell, the way her legs stretched and extended with each step. Then he remembered the manners that Father Micheal had taught him as a child and he rushed to hold open the door for her.
Sasche blushed as he did, offering a soft 'thank you' as she stepped out onto the warm spring Chicago street. She started to make her way down the street when Jake called out.
"I, uhm, Miss?"
She stopped and turned back.
"Your name. I don't even know your name." He smiled... and her heart jumped into her throat. The man could stop traffic with that smile.
"Sasche." She smiled as he extended his hand. She hesitated for a moment, then grasped his gently.
"Sasha, what a beautiful name. Jake." His fingers curled around her hand warmly. If he felt the coldness of her skin, he made no sign of it.
Jake's pager went off again, this time on a 911. That was Monica code for 'get your butt in here NOW!!'. He let go of her hand and sighed. "I need to go. My boss is calling me. It was nice to meet you." He smiled again as he took a few steps back, then turned to go.
Sasche nodded slightly and smiled. She watched him as he left. 'Turn around and look, turn around and look back.' she pleaded. If he turned and looked back, supposedly he was interested... at least according to her girlfriends back in New York.
A few yards down the street, Jake turned back to look, one last glimpse of the stunning woman with dark mysterious eyes and mesmerizing auburn hair.
****
Jake was walking by when he caught sight of a beautiful pair of legs in the window. He had to stop and back up. 'Damn!' he thought. 'Legs like that should be a crime.' Of course, as he looked up to see the rest of the body attached to the legs, he revised that thought. A body like that should be a crime. Too bad she had her head turned to the waitress, but she had a rich auburn color to her hair. Maybe he'd stop for coffee on his way to work... Monica and her page could wait another 10 minutes...
Sasche's long fingers curled around the fresh mug of cocoa. The heat would have burned other people, but it felt good to her. Maybe it burned her too and she just couldn' feel it. However, she definitly did notice the man who'd stopped and backtracked to stare at her legs a few minutes ago. He was cute, in a boyish sort of way. And he'd come inside too. She couldn't help herself as she let her eyes roam over his back view. He had a nice rear end, the tight jeans showed it off well. Clean cut, clean and well kept shoes, longer cut hair, perfect for running your fingers through... or grasping tightly in the throes of hot, sweaty, messy passionate sex.
Sasche shot out of her chair as the hot cocoa splashed over the edge of the table. She'd been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she had lost her grip on the mug and dropped it onto the table. The cocoa wasn't hot enough any more to burn her skin through the fishnet hose, but it still stung. One of the waitresses ran over with a pair of towels to help clean up the spill and to let Sasche wipe herself off. But the towel hung unused in her fingertips as her dark brown eyes met his dark brown eyes.
Jake had heard the crunch of something hitting a table and then the scraping of a chair on the floor. He turned around from the cash register where he was paying for his coffee, one hand immediately covering his gun in case something happened. All he saw was the woman from the window with a towel in her hand and what looked like cocoa on her skirt... and she was watching him intently. Despite the cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand, Jake shivered. Those eyes were so dark they were almost black. On their own, his feet guided him over to the woman.
"You alright miss?" He couldn't tear his eyes from hers. The waitress said something about bringing her a new drink... or something like that...
Sasche just stared. She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help herself. Vaguely she saw the waitress look between the two of them and then grin widely. As he reached out to take the towel from her hands, Sasche jumped. She jerked her hands back quickly, not because she was frightened, but because she didn't want him to feel how cold her hands were. She was self conscious about that and had been since she noticed it a few months ago.
Jake frowned. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just going to wipe your hands off." He motioned to her hands.
Sasche looked down. They were dripping with cocoa where it'd splashed all over.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry." She picked up the towel and wiped her own hands off.
Her accent was clipped, something he couldn't place. He was sure he'd heard it before. But her voice... it was mellow, rich. It slid over his ears like honeyed whiskey did down your throat... and what a soft slender throat she had too. Perfect for kissing, nibbling, stroking...
Jake blushed and looked down. He didn't even know this woman's name and he was having x-rated fantasies about her. Thankfully the waitress brought back the woman's drink - this time in a to go cup with a lid. With a shy smile, Sasche took it and stepped past Jake. For a moment he just watched her walk, the way her hips rose and fell, the way her legs stretched and extended with each step. Then he remembered the manners that Father Micheal had taught him as a child and he rushed to hold open the door for her.
Sasche blushed as he did, offering a soft 'thank you' as she stepped out onto the warm spring Chicago street. She started to make her way down the street when Jake called out.
"I, uhm, Miss?"
She stopped and turned back.
"Your name. I don't even know your name." He smiled... and her heart jumped into her throat. The man could stop traffic with that smile.
"Sasche." She smiled as he extended his hand. She hesitated for a moment, then grasped his gently.
"Sasha, what a beautiful name. Jake." His fingers curled around her hand warmly. If he felt the coldness of her skin, he made no sign of it.
Jake's pager went off again, this time on a 911. That was Monica code for 'get your butt in here NOW!!'. He let go of her hand and sighed. "I need to go. My boss is calling me. It was nice to meet you." He smiled again as he took a few steps back, then turned to go.
Sasche nodded slightly and smiled. She watched him as he left. 'Turn around and look, turn around and look back.' she pleaded. If he turned and looked back, supposedly he was interested... at least according to her girlfriends back in New York.
A few yards down the street, Jake turned back to look, one last glimpse of the stunning woman with dark mysterious eyes and mesmerizing auburn hair.
****