A.C. Arthur - Guarding His Body

“Are we going into this foundry or what?” She managed to move away from his touch this time and walked around him. Her stomach was doing somersaults and they were standing out in the open where he was a clear shot.

Renny dropped his arms to his side and led her into the building. He was tall and didn’t walk slowly. Usually he’d have to slow down to almost baby steps when walking with a woman, but Sabrina, even with her shorter legs, kept up with him without a problem. She didn’t carry a purse, just a small pouch at her waist. She didn’t wear long flourishing earrings, just simple studs. Her watch was the only jewelry that adorned her arms, and today he couldn’t even see her ankle bracelet. She looked around, taking in everything and seemingly recording it for future use.

“You ever been to a foundry before?”

“No.”

“Then let me give you the grand tour,” a familiar male voice interrupted. This was Walt. He worked on all of Renny’s projects. In fact, Renny didn’t trust anyone else with his pieces.

Renny extended his hand, and Walt clasped it quickly and with a generous smile. “Hey, Walt. What’s going on?”

“Nothing much. I’ve got this dude working me like crazy, that’s all.” Walt was a tall man, wire thin, with a long face and a big, warm smile. “I see you’ve brought me a little bit of sunshine this morning. You tryin’ to bribe me?” Walt was looking at Sabrina.

Renny didn’t miss the implications in Walt’s words, nor did he miss the salacious look he was giving Sabrina. What was even harder to miss was the swirling heat in the pit of his stomach—something he wasn’t even going to qualify as jealousy. “This is a friend of the family, Sabrina Desdune. She’s helping out with the opening, so I thought I’d let her get a look at how the background work is done. Sabrina, this is Walter Hemler, foundry worker extraordinaire.”

Bree gave the man a cordial smile and extended her hand. He eagerly took it between both his hands and rubbed her skin gently. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hemler.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Walt shook his head. “You’ll call me Walt just like everybody else. You sure are a pretty little thing.”

Bree blushed at his words. Why was it that older men always flirted with younger women, embarrassing them both immensely? “Thank you, Walt. I’m a bit curious. Do you think you can explain all this to me?” She looked around them again, ignoring the heated glare she was receiving from Renny.

“Sure thing, little missy. You just follow me and I’ll answer all your questions.”

Walt hooked Bree’s arm in his and began walking. Each of them seemed to forget Renny was even standing there.

With his lips drawn tightly Renny followed them, not liking the exclusion one bit. He was supposed to be showing her around. It didn’t really matter. He was here to check on his pieces; showing Sabrina around would only distract him. Sort of like the sway of her hips was doing right now.

“We mostly do artwork here. You know, sculptures and statues. Over there’s the oven. That’s where we melt the metal and fire the castings. It’s hot as Satan’s den over there, so I won’t take you too close.” Walt was busily talking and guiding Sabrina.

Bree looked around, watching as workers poured a glistening liquid into small molds and large molds, her inquisitive mind working overtime. “So, do you just come up with the ideas and pour the metal inside and then you have a statue?”

“Naw, all this starts with the artist. He dreams up the idea and then brings us a smaller model. We take it from there.”

“This is really interesting. I never gave much thought to how these things were actually created.”

“It’s a daunting process,” Renny spoke up from his spot behind them. When she turned her eyes to him he felt like sitting her down and answering any question she asked. She looked suddenly vulnerable and very childlike in this big warehouse with all this heavy machinery. A marine, no, you would never guess it of this petite woman. Not until you looked deep into her eyes. They were such expression-filled eyes that Renny found himself getting lost in them once again. She was passionate, with a strength and determination to rival any man’s; he could see that clearly. An artist had an eye for detail, and ever since meeting Sabrina he’d stored away loads of details about her.

“Really?” She’d known he was close, had felt his dominating presence behind her as if he were her entire world. There was an unknown element about Renny Bennett, something she assumed other people didn’t see often when they looked at him. “How do you get your inspiration?”

He couldn’t tell her his latest source of inspiration and didn’t quite know how to explain his pieces, so he thought an example would suit this conversation better. “Walt can show you a couple of my finished pieces and then I’ll let you answer that yourself.”

“Sure. Right this way. He’s real protective of his stuff, so I keep it in a locked room until it’s time to move it.”

They walked through the center of the factory, up a few stairs and across a catwalk. Renny grabbed her elbow to keep her steady. Bree frowned but didn’t say anything. She’d walked on a catwalk before; hell, she’d jumped out of a plane before, so this was a piece of cake, but she kept that to herself. Renny seemed to be real big on this gentleman thing, so she’d leave it alone, for now.

Walt used a key to gain entrance into the room and flicked on a light before inviting them in. Renny still held on to her arm even though they’d left the catwalk about twenty steps ago. White sheets covered everything in the room except the steel shelves. When it seemed no one was in a hurry to remove them, Bree took a step and pulled one away herself.

She gasped, her hand coming to her throat for an instant. Then she ran her fingers lightly over the figure. It was a woman. A naked woman, lying on a couch, one leg thrown over the back while the other dangled over the edge. One arm was draped over her head while the other extended down between her legs. Her features weren’t clear, yet the excitement, the growing passion, was unmistakable.

Her skin tingled as she continued to study the sculpture. It was intricate in its design, right down to the sharp protrusion of the woman’s nipples. Renny was standing right next to her now, close enough that she could hear his breathing. “What do you think?” he almost whispered.

She licked her lips. “It’s, ah…very interesting.”

Renny sighed. “You think it’s pornographic, don’t you? You can tell me the truth.” That’s what his father thought, that he was spending all his time making dirty sculptures so horny nutcases could pay a fortune for them.

Bree heard the disappointment in his voice and turned to face him. His hands were thrust into his pockets, his jaw clenched as he looked away from her. She touched his arm gently, knowing exactly what it felt like when someone didn’t understand your life’s work. “I think it’s extremely passionate. It’s not pornographic, more like sensually tasteful, I’d say.”

Overhead a speaker blared and Walt heard himself being paged. “I’d better see what’s going on out there. You two take your time. I’ll be right back.”

They were alone in the room when Renny finally let himself look at her. She’d touched him of her own accord, but the moment his eyes rested on hers she’d pulled away. She thought his work was passionate. “Do you want to see the rest of them?”

“I’d love to.” Bree was careful to keep her eyes averted from his. This room was really small, and very hot since she’d unveiled the first sculpture.

“I call the collection Breathless Passion,” he told her as he went about the task of removing the other covers.