Mark uncontrollably grinned as he spurred the automobile back into motion, her less-than-naive coquettishness giving him another start that he hadn't been prepared for. He naturally had had some experience with these teenage girls in his life, but he doubted that he'd ever quite get comfortable with their casual disregard for the teasingly provocative sexiness they exuded. It was difficult to believe they were unaware of their ripened young charms, though he'd never thought of Nancy along those lines, and it suddenly occurred to him that he was either getting old, or blind… or was it that she had suddenly grown up when he wasn't looking?
"What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Mr. Denning?" Nancy questioned, purposely twisting in the seat so that she faced him, her young nylon encased legs nearly touching at the knees, her fully rounded thighs knowingly revealed to him. She saw his handsome, greyish-eyes magnetically rake over them, and a little quiver of excitement fluttered through her.
"I have a friend here, a writer who'd like to interview you, Nancy," he clumsily managed, gluing his eyes to the street ahead with the sight of her curvaceous young thighs mentally branded in his mind. Damnit! He was still hot and horny from his honeymoon. "Name's Rodney Foster and he writes for a national magazine!"
"About the dog, Lobo, that day?" she quickly responded, her teenage, dark eyes innocently absorbing him, then clouding with sadness at the memory. "Is that what he wants to know about?"