A smile played across Paula’s lips as she stirred the soup, her mind on another place. Fred’s muscular arms encircled her waist, “Smells good Honey,” he said, nibbling her ear. Heat coursed through her waking memories of a stolen afternoon, giving way to a stifled moan.
“I tried to call at lunch, where were you?”
She eased from his grip, “Sorry, guess I got distracted,” she said, avoiding his eyes.