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there that Elise was not paying attention to her safety. He would need to correct that oversight. When they pulled up to a storefront and Elise told him to park in the lot adjacent to it, Ross’s spidey senses were working overtime. What the hell was Elise doing here on a Sunday morning? He couldn’t wait to meet her commitment.
     
    * * * *
     
    Several hours later, Ross stretched his aching back and ruefully inspected his wrinkled, stained hands. He hadn’t peeled potatoes and carrots since he was a kid and never in such vast quantities. His only solace was watching his woman pass by, her face flushed with exertion, her pony tailed hair bouncing in tandem with her perky breasts and butt. Ross scowled at the other male volunteers in the soup kitchen when he saw them also appreciating Elise’s form. She fetched and carried, served the noon meal, and generally made herself useful.
    “She’s something, eh?”
    Ross turned to look at the owner of that statement. A tall, older man, with blond hair cut unfashionably short stared back at him. His jacket had patches on the elbows, and his wire-framed glasses made him look like a professor.
    “George Norbert,” the man identified himself, thrusting out a hand.
    Ross took it and tested the grip. He caught himself acting like a jealous schoolboy and quickly let go. “Ross Lassiter.”
    “I run this place,” Norbert advised, gesturing casually at the kitchen and attached dining area. “Thanks for lending a hand. I hope we can count on you next week?”
    Ross shrugged. “I’ll see what Elise is up to.”
    A strange look passed across Norbert’s face, too quickly for Ross to read it, but his gut knew what Norbert was. Competition. The other man then smiled.
    “I didn’t know Elise was involved with anyone.”
    “She is,” Ross said, shortly. He read intent in Norbert’s face, an intense interest in Elise. His instincts were sound.
    “Well, lucky you, then, Lassiter,” the other man replied. “Maybe we’ll see you next week.”
    Ross watched him move across the room, stopping to connect with some of the people who had come for the meal, but always on an oblique course toward Elise. Ross cut him off at the pass and got to her in time to put an arm around her waist. She smelled like food and slightly sweaty woman. He willed his cock down.
    “Elise,” said Norbert with a huge smile. “Thanks for coming again!”
    Elise smiled back, and Ross wanted to spank her and punch Norbert. He wasn’t sure which to do first.
    “George!” Elise looked to Ross. “This is my, um, this is Ross Lassiter.”
    “We’ve met, sweetie,” George replied. “Good of you to bring the extra pair of hands.”
    Ross knew that the jerk hadn’t missed Elise’s stumble when she introduced them. But then he didn’t know what to call her either. Girlfriend? Lover? Sub? Intended? Yeah, “intended” covered all the bases. He tightened his arm around her waist and then slid his hand down to fleetingly stroke one buttock. Elise tensed and stood a little taller.
    “We should probably get going, honey,” he said to her.
    “I usually stay to clear up, Ross,” Elise replied, looking anxious.
    George interrupted. “The two of you have done enough today, Elise. Run along and have fun. See you next week, with or without your, uh, Ross.”
    Elise must have felt Ross’s tension, for she stepped neatly in front of him and used her body to turn him toward the door. Because it suited him, Ross let her guide him, and they made their way to his car, which still had all its parts from what he could see. He handed Elise inside and waited until she fastened her seat belt. He wondered if he should take her to her place and fuck her or if he could last until they got to his. If that George Norbert was one of her commitments, then Ross was going to help Elise lose him. She could find other do-good work, and he could be on top on the list. He hurried to get into the driver’s seat.
    “Thank