There’s no theme song for this today’s snippet. You’ll just have to come up with one on your own. The next few weeks are going to find me writing like a mad woman with a September 18th deadline, home schooling starting on September 4th, and College Football starting Thursday, August 30th.
I have got some amazing books planned for all my readers. Promise. Some you’ve been waiting on and some you’ve never heard o, including two that were plotted while I was on road trips this month. But, because I have a holiday book to write in September, I thought perhaps I’d find a snippet from my holiday book a couple of years ago…
She was going home with him. She couldn’t believe it. When was the last time she’d gone home with a man? Or had a man go home with her? Holli wasn’t sure she could remember that far back. She wasn’t quite sure this particular instance counted, but…
It was the second time since she’d been pulled over that she’d been in his squad car. This time, though, she was sitting up front and not in the back behind the cage. In all her thirty-five plus years, she’d never gotten so much as a speeding ticket and had never been arrested. If she wasn’t so bone tired, so damned horny, or feeling so freakin’ gross from not having had a shower in — how many hours had it been? Too many for her to remember without the clock in front of her. She knew there was some humor in this whole situation; she simply felt too much like shit to find it.
Just the thought of how tired she was and of curling up in a warm bed had her yawning. Would she be sleeping in a bed? Or on the couch? Did he have a second bedroom? Did it matter? She looked over at him. Yeah, it did matter. It would matter a lot more when she was rested and fed.
Then she’d see about feasting on him.
His profile was beautiful. He was beautiful. His face had that guy next door handsomeness that was just over the top, but his eyes were so bright and fun and compelling. He was easy to smile and laugh, open, and very kind.
And she wanted to fuck him. Officer Hunky indeed.
She wanted to be naughty with him. She wanted to get down and dirty with him. She wanted to snuggle into his arms and sleep with him. He was exactly the kind of man she didn’t let herself get involved with, but again, not that many that looked like him had ever been interested in her. He was the good, way-too-good-to-be-true-in-the-long-run kind — she didn’t do short runs very well — so she stayed away from the sexy men that made her blood boil when it was ten below outside.
But just this once. During this season. On her vacation. She wanted to fuck him.
It wasn’t often she met men she wanted to fuck either, but this one — oh hell yes. He wanted her too. That was a shock in and of itself. Just looking at him and knowing what she must look like right then, it was a wonder he even wanted her in the same car. In general, though, he wasn’t usually the kind of man who would want her. He was toned and lean and perfect to look at, and she was curvy — like way, way curvy — a little pudgy in some areas, and truthfully pretty average looking. But she wasn’t going to second-guess or question or bemoan the wonderfully good luck landing her in his lap, so to speak. She —
“Is everything okay?”
She’d been staring. She knew that. She’d been all but drooling while imagining him naked. “Yes.”
“You were yawning and looked kind of dazed.”
Dazed with lust. “I’m pretty tired.”
“I bet. You can shower and sleep when we get to my place. It’s right up the road here.”
He pointed in the direction of “here.” Light snow was falling, but she could still see clearly through the windshield. A river flowed to the right, and small shops and businesses lined the left side of the road. It was a small, quaint town right outside Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. The kind you’d see in a magazine or something in a Norman Rockwell painting.
Up meant up a hill, and then he was turning into a drive that wound around to the back of a rather large, Victorian-style house complete with a wraparound porch. “You live here?”
“I live in one part of the house, yes. It was gutted and renovated some years ago and was divided into four apartments. I live in one of the upstairs ones.”
“Yeah. It was once a summer home for a Southern family that would spend, well, the summers up here. When the last descendent passed away and no one came forth to claim it, the city was going to demolish it. Instead a local businessman bought it to use as rental property. And here we are. C’mon. Let’s get you inside.”
He helped her out of the car and grabbed her bags from the trunk. With a hand holding her elbow, he guided her around ice patches and unsafe mounds of snow. The inside of the house was warm, and the smell of gingerbread assaulted her senses. Her stomach rumbled its approval of the aroma. Michael laughed, and she was starving again, still, for something other than food. She was starving for Officer Hunky.
She’d separated him in her mind. Michael was the one caring for her. Officer Hunky was the one inciting her lust and making her want to do naughty things so he’d be forced to “arrest” her.
“Mrs. Collins bakes gingerbread all the time. All year long. Even in the summer. She’s one of those competitive bakers that you see traveling all over the country to participate in recipe contests.”
“Has she ever won?”
He guided her up the stairs to the second-floor landing. “Yes. She’s won a lot, and every time she comes home, she shows off her ribbons or asks me to come down to see her brand-new kitchen equipment.”
Holli chucked him on the chin and winked. “Well, aren’t you a good neighbor?”
“It doesn’t hurt that I’m pretty handy with basic installations either.”
“Oh I’m quite sure it doesn’t.”
They were talking, bantering, sort of flirting. They’d had an easy enough rapport behind bars, and it seemed to be translating to the outside world as well. She liked that they could relax and connect, that they could tease each other. She was fairly certain she could keep from throwing herself at him too. At least for a little while longer.
He unlocked the door to his apartment, and she immediately shivered as a cold gust of air hit her.
“Sorry about that,” he said, wrapping an arm around her to usher her inside. He closed the door behind them, then moved to a fireplace in the center of the large wall running the length of the living space.
At least her teeth weren’t chattering. “That’s beautiful. The scrollwork on the mantel, I mean.”
“Yeah it is. When I said the house was gutted, I mean gutted. All except the fireplaces. There are four total, all original to the house. One in each apartment, but there is gas heat as well. I generally don’t have need to use it myself, but with you here, I’ll be happy to turn it on so the bedroom gets warm.”
“It’s okay. I can sleep on the couch.”
“No. You’ll sleep in the bed.”
There was no arguing with that tone of voice. She knew from experience. He’d used the same one with her when she’d tried to argue her way out of being arrested and booked for fraud. Until he’d seen the clerical error on her social security number, he’d given her that implacable, in-charge voice. If she hadn’t been scared and pissed off, she’d have found it incredibly arousing. Kind of like she did now.
Remember Holli, no jumping Officer Hunky.
“Can I shower?”
“Of course. This way.”
His tone was light again, easygoing, and she followed him into the one and only bathroom. “It’ll take a few minutes for the water to heat up, but once it does, be sure to monitor it before you get in or it’ll scald you.”
“Okay. Temper the water.”
“I’ll get some food started.”
He backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. He’d become formal, businesslike, and she wasn’t sure why. Was he nervous? Had he changed his mind about bringing her to his home? Had he changed his mind about wanting her? Should she have attacked him in the closet after all?
Now, while I’m headed out to Trader Joe’s for some food stuffs, y’all can start reading snippets from the following blogs and authors:
Have a great Saturday!