Free Growing and Kissing by Helena Newbury

teetering under the weight. Every few steps, the sacks would threaten to slip out of her grasp and she’d have to grab for them again. She was far too preoccupied to notice me.
    She just barely managed to make it to the elevator and hit the button. I winced.
    “It’s broken,” I muttered.
    She snapped her head around, startled, and dropped one of the sacks. It went whump on the floor, narrowly missing her foot. Then, struggling to pick it up, she dropped the other one.
    “Let me give you a hand,” I said.
    She ignored me, crouched, and tried to pick up the first sack. That meant that, as I approached, I was looking down on her and fuck me… she was wearing a scoop-neck top and the view I had of her pale cleavage was amazing. Smooth white skin and her breasts were the most perfect shape, just waiting for a hard hand to slide down the front of her top and cup them….
    For all my good intentions, I still wanted to bang the hell out of this girl.
    She hefted both sacks and stood, her knees trembling a little under the strain. Then she headed towards the stairs.
    “Ah, come on,” I said disbelievingly. “It’s ten floors.”
    She ignored me and put her foot on the first step. I silently shook my head at her stubbornness...but I had to admire her determination.
    She stepped up to the second step. I started up the stairs behind her.
    “Please stop following me,” she said tightly.
    “I’m just walking up the same stairs. It’s a free country.”
    “Weren’t you on your way out?”
    “I forgot something.”
    I saw her grit her teeth and then she started a steady march up the stairs, with me one step behind her. At the top of the first flight, she stumbled and nearly dropped both sacks, but recovered. She straightened up and tossed her hair back as if to say, see? I’m fine!
    She was only a little thing but God, she had spirit.
    She marched up the second flight of stairs. Each step was a little slower than the last. By the time she reached the top, she was barely moving.
    “I’m going up to nine anyway ,” I said. “I might as well take one of them.”
    She was panting but trying not to show it. “What are you now, neighbor of the year?”
    I just held out my hands for a sack.
    She looked up at the stairwell above her...and with a despondent sigh she pushed a sack towards me. I took it, trying not to make it look too easy.
    As I’d thought, the label said it was some sort of chemical fertilizer. I really hoped it was for her house plants.
    We moved on, making faster progress now that she could heave her sack in both hands. She managed another four floors before she ran out of steam. I stopped beside her. She was red-faced, now, and her legs were shaky, but she was still doing her best to hide it. She gave me a glare, as if daring me to doubt her. But I could tell she was wiped out.
    “When we get to your place, you’re going to need your hands to open the door,” I said carefully. I wasn’t used to this diplomatic shit, but I was doing my best. “Why don’t I take the other one?”
    She just looked at me with hate-filled eyes...but then her exhaustion overcame her anger and her shoulders slumped. She didn’t offer the sack, but she didn’t resist when I scooped it out of her arms, either. My forearm accidentally brushed across the soft swell of her breast and I felt my cock go rock hard in my jeans. Jesus, this girl did it to me every single time. Just looking at her now, with all that shining red hair cascading down her back and those big, green eyes—I didn’t care if she hated me. I was imagining pushing her back against the stairwell wall, kissing her hard as I unfastened the belt of her jeans, hooked her panties down, and pressed her thighs apart—
    “What?” she asked, bemused.
    I realized I was staring at her. I hefted a sack onto each shoulder and set off up the stairs. “Nothing.”
    When we reached her apartment, she opened the door and then turned around, blocking the doorway. “Just