I came from behind, the person of my desire too tired to notice me until I had my arms wrapped around her waist.

She leans into my touch, tiredly resting against me.

I bow my head, burying my face in the nook of her neck;
Teasingly, I trace my tongue across her neck, salty with sweat, and feel her veins pulsing in time with her heart.

Our fingers lazily mesh together, her calloused hands rubbing against my own;
Her crew meeting my weapons, her house maintenance and my landscaping.

I breath in deeply through my nose, enjoying her scent.

Peering at her eyes, I smile at her flushed and tired face.

“You're beautiful.”

She smiles impishly, mischievously, at me, “Only to you.”

“Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, Imp.”