Jack couldn’t believe his luck. Twice in as many weeks a beauty so far out of league he couldn’t imagine it arrived on his door like some cosmic joke. But Connie, the blond bombshell holding the bucket and sponge, standing on his porch, was anything but joking.
It wasn’t long before she was wet, covered in suds and flicking water everywhere, giving him a show. But she’d forgotten to take her shorts off and she couldn’t possibly get those wet.
“Would you like to take my shorts off, Jack?”
It was the question that started an unbelievable Saturday morning, one that would propel him towards a future he never saw coming.
