Willie had begun to grow on her. Unlike most of her dates, he was a gentleman and one who possessed a most enthusiastic tongue. Of course, she also liked the stories of his family's financial resources. But his decision convinced her that, Lincoln or not, the stories of his monetary estate were either exaggerated or he was one really weird car nut. The truth was, in the end, Willie picked the full figure on his allowance check over that possessed by The Sin. It had been two weeks since the great divide, and Willie was just beginning to recover from its effects. Now Etta had brought all those painful memories rushing back. Questions of the heart aside, he also had to face an immediate crises regarding questions on tests. Etta's remarks indicated to even his slow wit that the strategies of the past might prove less fruitful than usual in conjuring up her cooperation. A simple question like, "How's about a Coke?" somehow didn't seem to be an adequate opening gambit. Light rarely. Standing beside her his hand wants to reach out and touch her, run his fingers along her curves, but he can't. He has to be a gentleman, so he plays it out differently than in his mind. He clears his throat quietly and asks if there is anything he can do. Without warning, he finds himself simultaneously trying to cover his ears and catch the woman as she shouts and flings herself into his body. "Oh my god!" Emma screams, as the man seems to drastically take up her personal space and offer her aide. She jumps a mile toward the stranger and loudly exclaims her discontent. Then realizes she is pressed firmly against him. But the worst part is the deception of her own body, the way it is relaxed and aroused at the same time. The heat that she felt just minutes earlier is yet again burning her up. Emma stumbles back to try to put some perspective back into it all, put some balance in her stance as she looks up at the man. Her gaze roaming over certain parts of him longer than necessary,.
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