Frying Pans are for...

Peggy had braced herself for rejection, but even so she was a tangle of hope and anxiety as the moment of anticipation stretched longer, as the male took in her words and comprehended them. He stepped up beside her beneath the sheltering brush, and the enclosed space made her even more aware of his height and the musky masculine scent of him that was mixed so with the floral and sweet scent of the herbs and honey she had just treated him with. She tilted her head back to gaze up at him, fearless of him even as she feared his rejection of her offer.

But he didn't reject her, and she felt a thrill from ears to toes to tail when he said the words. He wanted her. He wanted her. At this moment nothing that had come before, all those little crushes that had come to nothing, none of that mattered. Just him, wanting her as much as she wanted him. "Yes," she said huskily. "Yes, I want you." Breathless and star-eyed, bolstered by both his wanting and that he would care so much that he held back to be certain it was really what she wanted, she was emboldened to press against him, to look up at him pleadingly.

-fade to black-