*****I wasn’t prepared for her turning up at my door dressed as a biker chick.“It’s a fancy dress party,” she smiled to explain the leathers a...d torn T-shirt. “We’re going as Hell’s Angels. I tried to get some fake tattoos, but couldn’t find any. You think I’ll do?” She spun on the spot to give me a three-sixty view of her outfit.Would she do? Well, for me, the tight-fitting leather pants were just amazing. They hugged her thighs and bottom like they were painted on by an expert in perfect. Say somethin'! Or do somethin'! Hell, you can slap me if you want to-you prob'ly should!" His southern accent was as charming as ever, if you can call it charming.I laughed a little, uncomfortable laugh and tried to play off the real temptation I was feeling. "Guess the walls are pretty thin in this old place," I said softly, not meeting his eyes."Guess so," he said, staring straight at my face until I met his gaze across the kitchen table. "So? How 'bout it?" What about Karen?" I asked. I. Mark had the kind of shortish, fine sandy hair that never seemed to be totally under control - a bit like Robert Redford's. He also had brown eyes, the kind of eyes that seemed to melt women's hearts and he used all of his charms to ensure his bed was rarely empty or cold.Today wasn't a day for flirting and trying to pick up a new bedmate however, today Mark was working. He was an investigative journalist and worked freelance - refusing to be tied down to one company or to be the subject of. All the while, she teased me with how prettya girl I made.She made me read SEVENTEEN magazine, and COSMOPOLITAN. ?And you?ll simplyadore reading my old Harlequin romance books!? she added. ?We?ve got to getyou thinking like a girl, Zoe!?Finally, we went up to my bedroom, and pretty much stripped it to the walls.All of my clothing and possessions went into boxes, and then into thegarage. An extra set of my sisters? bedclothes went onto my bed, and someof her old Boy Band posters went up onto the.
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