Hey, Rhonda Lee Carver here. For those who know me won’t be surprised with the subject of this blog. And for those who are just getting to know me, yes, things like this happen to me far more than I’d like to admit.
A few weeks ago the family and I went out of town for a volleyball tourney and stayed at a motel close to the center where the girls played. Everyone went swimming, except for me. I saw the opportunity to unwind after a long day. I undressed, grabbed a long shower, got out and cranked up the music. I was feeling pretty good as I sashayed around the room to Pat Benatar, Hit Me With Your Best Shot. I mean, who has ever listened to a Benatar song and been able to control the body movements? Not I.
As an AC/DC song started, I had my handy-dandy brush/microphone ready to belt out the words to For Those About To Rock when I heard a voice. I listened closer. It was loud and was close. Was the family returning? I turned off the music and the man’s voice sounded like it was coming from an intercom. I looked across the room and saw that the curtain was open. Who the hell opened it after I’d closed it? I hurried across to the window and stopped dead. Just outside, in perfectly plain sight, was a KFC drive-thru. Really, I have no clue how many people were gifted a show with their chicken. But the smiling boy working the window certainly did have a chicken-eating grin.
And if you’re curious, I do try to put some real-life story in with my fantasy when I write.
Nekkid. Spurred. And fucked!
Dade Jarrett swore when he got his hands on the spoiled, obnoxious Felicia Sever he was going to drag her over his knee and teach her a valuable lesson. Don’t piss off a cowboy. Boss’ sister or not!
A blast of cold air shot through the vent and into the small room, making his balls shrivel to the size of a chipmunk’s gonads. This wouldn’t do at all. Grabbing the thin sheet from the table, he wrapped it around his hips. “Shit!” It was the size of a baby blanket, barely covering the important stuff.
Oh yeah…he couldn’t wait to come face to face with the woman who’d been nothing but a thorn in his ass for the last two days.
He tried the handle to the door again, sending positive vibes that it would open. No such luck.
How the hell was he in this predicament in the first place? Bigger question, how had she snuck into the building without him being aware? Was she part woman and part ninja? Sure, he’d taken a short nap after Susie had finished with his massage, like he did most times. However, Felicia would have had to come into the room, steal his clothes from the rack beside the door then manage to close the door and lock it. Damn. He was a little embarrassed.
His attention automatically fell to the piece of paper he’d found on the floor. Oh, he bet she thought she was real clever. He read it again…
“Aren’t you a little too old to be following a girl around like a stalker? Enjoy a break on me.”
His gut twisted and he dropped the note to the planked floor, stomping it under his bare foot. He wasn’t a stalker! Just because he was following her…watching her…oh sheesh. Well, he wasn’t doing it because he wanted to. He growled deep in his chest and stared at his toes. She even took his boots. Damn complicated woman! How the hell did she even know that he’d been watching her? He thought he’d been pretty ninja-like himself. He chuckled. The wobbling must have given him away! He sniffed loudly and tightened the sheet around his hips. Thank God she left the crutch and his hat, which he now smashed down on his head.
COMING SOON! The Discreet Cowboy (Book 6, Cowboys of Nirvana).
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