" Her last step landed her against him. He stood so close. His arms were raised above her head, ready to move the ladder to the next location. She ducked under his arm, and their bodies brushed. Her shoulder skimmed his chest; her hip tapped his groin.
His intake of breath drew her gaze. He released a short pant. Widened his stance. His zipper no longer lay flat. It bulged. Largely.
Her lips parted on her own indrawn breath. They'd touched, and he'd gotten an erection. Her breasts grew heavy. Her panties dampened. Embarrassingly so. "

― , The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine