I smiled, impressed that she knew what it was, and waved her on.

I loved my car, and I got a real kick out of her excited reaction to it.  She was good at making me smile.

“I’ve never been in one of these before.”

“I just got this one about eight months ago.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.  I’m happy with it.”

“Whoa.  You got the seven seater?  You have any kids?”

I laughed.  “No.  I have no excuse, other than that the salesman was very good at selling me features.”

We were inside and belted before I looked at her again.  I could smell her in the small space.  She smelled so good that it was playing havoc with my peace of mind.  Like vanilla and some hint of what could only be her hot little body after a good workout.

I was shamefully happy that she hadn’t showered after the workout.  I had a very clear visual of licking every bit of that salty sweet sweat off her, and since that wouldn’t be happening, I had a smell to obsess over in place of that.

She reclined her seat until she was lying down flat.  Her mouthwatering br**sts pointed straight up in that position.  “That is so cool.  What is that called?  The glass ceiling?”

“An all glass panoramic roof.  Like I said, the salesman was very good at selling me features, even ones I didn’t need.”

I started the car, waiting for her to tell me where to go.  When we just sat there for a few minutes, I asked, “So, where can I drop you?”

She brought her seat back up.  “Aren’t you going to invite me back to your place?  I want to see your house.  And I’d like to try whatever concoction you make yourself drink after your workout.”

I smiled and shook my head.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Iris.  You are much too young to be inviting yourself to some man’s house.  Especially an old guy like me.”

“How old are you?” she asked, sounding only vaguely curious about that.

“Forty.  Old.  How old are you?”

“Twenty-four, Alasdair.  Old enough for any damn thing.”

I gave her a gimlet-eyed look, sure she was messing with me.  “I don’t believe you.  Prove it.  Show me your ID.”

She giggled like I’d just said the funniest thing, but she did bend forward to fish around in her bag, retrieving a small pink wallet.  “What?  You think I’m jailbait?”

“Something like that.”

She handed me a Nevada driver’s license.  I studied it, did some quick math, then studied it some more.  It was real, as far as I could tell, and it did place her at twenty-four.  I could hardly believe it.

“I’m still way too old for you.”

“Your c**k doesn’t agree.”  Her tone was so innocent that it took me a moment to process what she’d said.

I flushed bright red.  “My c**k doesn’t know what’s good for it.”

“But I do.”  Her voice was whisper soft.

I put the car in reverse.  “You sure about this?”

“Sure about what?  What’s the big deal about sharing a drink and checking out your pad?  Going by this car, I know you’re going to blow me away.”

I nodded tightly and kept my hands at two and ten, my eyes straight ahead.

I took her home.

It was insanity, but who the f**k could resist a girl like Iris?  Not me.

Even so, I told myself I’d humor her curiosity and then take her wherever she wanted to go.  I had absolutely no business doing more than that.  She was legal, thank God, but still far too young.  At least for that.

As though reading my mind, her hand went to my knee, her touch light.  “God, that thing is impressive.  I swear it has its own pulse.  I can see it beating.”

I nearly went off the road.  “Are you talking about…?!”

“Your cock.  You wear those big, thick clothes at the gym.  I had no clue you were packing such heat.”

“Knock it off,” I told her.

She dissolved into giggles, her hand falling from my knee.

“You’re just messing with me, aren’t you?” I asked her with a smile.  “You can tell I’m harmless, so you’re putting me on.”

Her hand touched the back of my neck, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.  She rubbed hard at my nape, and my eyes began to close with the pleasure.

I fought to pay attention to the road.

“I like you, Alasdair.  Can’t you tell?”

I didn’t have a good answer for that.  My ex-wife had done a number on me.  Married twenty years to the woman, doing everything I could think of to make her happy, and she’d hated my guts.  I couldn’t have been particularly likable.

Iris was friendly and talkative enough, but I noticed that she was not the sort to talk about herself, and I found myself talking too much, which was not at all like me.

“I live alone in a very big house.  It’s a waste really.  I should look for something smaller.  I was married when I had it built.  I didn’t intend to be alone when I designed the thing.”

“So you’re divorced?”

“Yes.  About a year now.”

“And you were married just the one time?”

I exaggerated a wince, shooting her a sheepish smile.  “I must seem so old to you, huh?  But yeah, just the one time.  For twenty years.”