Triple D

SCARECROW & BETSY MCGEE BOOK I: TRIPLE D …Betsy was so focused on the great looking chaps guy she didn’t watch where she was walking. When she ran into the waiter carrying a tray full of drinks and dishes, she was knocked for a bit of a loop. “I’m sorry,” she began, looking down at the prone man covered in sauces, left-overs and drinks. “Oh, my.” This one was just as good looking as the chaps guy. Except this guy was snarling. “Great, just great,” he muttered. Betsy stooped down to help him. He was crouched like a catcher at a baseball game, his strong thighs outlined by his cotton khaki pants. Betsy was between his knees and had a moment to wonder what it would be like to stay there for a year or two. Along with the pants and those wonderful thighs, he was wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt that faithfully outlined welldefined pectoral and abdominal muscles. Yes, sir, this weekend is going to be worth the hefty price tag just for the eye candy alone. “Let me help you,” she said, reaching to help him pick up the broken drink glasses. “You really should watch where you’re going,” he growled. Betsy felt a little tingle in her midsection. This guy wasn’t exactly a public relations dream, but then again, who was going to complain as long as he looked like he did? “That’s the second time I’ve been bowled over by one of you horny females today. You’d think you’ve never seen half-naked guys before.”

BOOKS BY TRIXIE STILLETTO The Blackout Body Slam The Coming Destiny’s Escort The Interview Lucky’s Strike The Quarterback Trixie’s Treats Scarecrow & Betsy McGee Book I: Triple D Book II: Mattress Games Book III: Chinese Delight With T. D. McKinney Eight Is Never Enough

SCARECROW & BETSY MCGEE

BOOK I: TRIPLE D

BY TRIXIE STILLETTO

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com SCARECROW & BETSY MCGEE, BOOK I: TRIPLE D AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

Copyright © 2005 by Trixie Stilletto ISBN 1-59279-394-0 Cover Art © 2005 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com Thanks to the real Scarecrow for one incredible fantasy weekend!

CHAPTER 1

Betsy McGee took a sip of her mixed drink and looked around at the people getting down and dirty in the bar. She couldn’t believe she was at the Triple D Ranch and Spa, the newest, hippest thing to hit western New York. It was a place for divorcées to get their feet wet in the dating game after the long dry spell of married life. But Betsy hadn’t expected the Triple D to be quite like this. There were dozens of half-naked men and women dirty dancing—or worse— all over the place. It was like an all-male review without tips sticking out of jock straps. She took a deep breath, another gulp of her drink and gathered her courage. She had to take the bull by the horns. She was forty years old. Bobby, her worthless, cheating ex-husband, had left her high and dry when he took off to Bermuda with his twenty-two-year-old receptionist. But Betsy wasn’t the type to sit at home and cry in her beer. Today was the start of the Betsy makeover. At that moment, she got a glimpse of the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. His chest was bare as a baby’s behind and so perfect it looked like something in a museum. Cinched around his washboard flat abs were leather chaps that looked like they had been painted on—and around – his magnificent package. Oh, my. Betsy moved instinctively. Even if he said no, she’d get a closer look. And like a kid standing outside a huge toy store, perhaps looking was all she could handle at this moment. Betsy was so focused on the great looking chaps guy she didn’t watch where she was walking. When she ran into the waiter carrying a tray full of drinks and dishes, she was knocked for a bit of a loop. “I’m sorry,” she began, looking down at the prone man covered in sauces, left-overs and drinks. “Oh, my.” This one was just as good looking as the chaps guy. Except this guy was snarling. “Great, just great,” he muttered. Betsy stooped down to help him. He was crouched like a catcher at a

baseball game, his strong thighs outlined by his cotton khaki pants. Betsy was between his knees and had a moment to wonder what it would be like to stay there for a year or two. Along with the pants and those wonderful thighs, he was wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt that faithfully outlined welldefined pectoral and abdominal muscles. Yes, sir, this weekend is going to be worth the hefty price tag just for the eye candy alone. “Let me help you,” she said, reaching to help him pick up the broken drink glasses. “You really should watch where you’re going,” he growled. Betsy felt a little tingle in her midsection. This guy wasn’t exactly a public relations dream, but then again, who was going to complain as long as he looked like he did? “That’s the second time I’ve been bowled over by one of you horny females today. You’d think you’ve never seen half-naked guys before.” “Excuse me?” Betsy was taken aback. “Oh, never mind. You just don’t get it. You women are always complaining about men who can’t keep their hands to themselves. Well, you should talk. I’ve only been working three hours and I’ve been pinched, tickled, stalked, and now, tackled.” Betsy bit her lip. The guy was definitely rough around the edges when it came to pleasing his customers, but he was also cute in a crusty, curmudgeonly kind of way. Since she’d spent what should have been her college years working as a waitress at a dive in South Buffalo paying the freight while Bobby diddled nursing students, she definitely knew where this guy was coming from. But empathy only went so far. After all, it was kind of nice to see a guy getting what women had been putting up with for centuries. “Ooh, baby, I’m so sorry you’ve had a rough day,” she purred. “Is the tushy getting a little black and bluesy?” She clapped her hand over her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that. His brows lowered over his dark, dark brown eyes and she held her breath waiting for his explosion. Instead, she heard a rumble of laughter. It started low and slow and it affected her body in the same places. She leaned a little closer and—bam! She didn’t know how it all happened exactly. There was either a wet spot or a slice of banana on the floor, but whatever the culprit, her foot slid out from under her and she fell forward, knocking him over. His arms wrapped around her as they both fell and Betsy felt the hard edges of his body come into complete contact with hers. Betsy knew she hadn’t been with a man in too long, but the innocent contact was making her wet in places that hadn’t known a glimmer of excitement in ages. If the hard

ridge under her pelvis was any indication, her waiter wasn’t immune either. Her hands were resting against a chest that the tie-dye had done woeful injustice to, and her fingers, acting of their own accord, of course, flexed like a cat digging into a pair of nylons. “Oh, my,” she said again. “Oh, my, indeed,” he replied. His hand moved from her waist to the back of her neck and her mouth was suddenly lined up with his. When she breathed, she felt such a riot of emotions it was as if she were in a psychedelic dream. His heart was beating like a racehorse. Or was it hers? His magnificent cock was nudging her pelvis, straining for entrance into her nether lips. Or were her lips opening like a flower to receive him? Before she could think anything more, he crushed her mouth with his. Stars exploded behind her eyes. Birds sung in her ears. Nerves danced to the surface of her skin. Betsy was in heaven and didn’t care to ever return to earth. Their mouths melded and mated, his tongue sweeping across her lips. He tasted of peppermint and sex. She sighed and he took advantage of the opening she presented. As their tongues did a dance, she felt his hand move from her neck, down her spine to the globe of her ass. God, she hoped he wouldn’t think she was too fat. When his palm squeezed gently and pulled her even tighter against his body, she sighed again, sinking even further into the web of desire. He widened his legs and hers slipped between them, putting her pussy in the bull’s-eye of his desire. She wished with all her heart there were no clothes between them, no fabric to keep him from sliding deep inside her. She felt her need edging its way down her canal, dampening her panties and fell deeper into his intoxicating kiss. She flexed her hips and felt the ridge in his pants incredibly grow larger and harder. He moved slightly and her hunger grew another notch. There’s no hurry, she thought dreamily. They had all night. What a night it promised to be. She was starving, and she had a good idea that he’d be more than enough to fill her up. Much too quickly for Betsy’s way of thinking, the kiss ended. That’s when she realized they were laying on the floor of the crowded bar. She closed her eyes. Oh, my… “Shit,” he said, dumping her unceremoniously off him. “I don’t have time for this.” He jumped up, grabbed his tray and dashed off.

Betsy sat up as well. She felt something squishy under her butt, reached her hand around and came up with some mushed, grotty, white substance. She sniffed delicately. Banana. That had been the culprit of her downfall. She looked around and saw that no one was looking at her, probably because she was sitting behind a humongous potted plant. Well, there was something to be said for that. At least no one had seen her untimely fall from grace. Nor could anyone see just how ridiculously aroused she’d been over a simple kiss. I’ve heard of slam-bam, thank you, ma’am, but that’s a little ridiculous, she thought getting gingerly to her feet. I think I’m definitely better off in my cabin. *** Roarke Mathews, code name Scarecrow, slowed down as he moved through the shadows between the tiny cabins. This op was getting stranger and stranger every minute he was on site. It didn’t help he’d almost lost his head over the woman in the bar. That was inexcusable. It was her sense of humor that did it. Mathews shook his head. That wasn’t right. Humor wasn’t supposed to be an aphrodisiac. It never had been before. Mathews liked his woman polished, thin and a little dim upstairs. It just made it easier when he disappeared in the middle of the night. Most of the time, he didn’t think they even noticed he was gone. He didn’t know why, but he had a feeling this woman would more than notice. She had a bright gleam of intelligence beneath the hesitation he’d seen in her eyes. He felt in his gut this was one woman who’d be a handful to get mixed up with. So his attraction to her was nonsensical. She’d been a handful in more ways than one. When all those soft curves had landed on top of him, he’d been like a starving man facing a buffet. Who was he kidding? He’d been like that the moment she’d plowed him over. When she’d knelt down to help him pick up his tray, leaning in between his legs, he’d had a sudden, extremely detailed vision of her going down on him, taking his full ten inches in her mouth and shooting him into ecstasy like a rocket blasted off from NASA. He shook his head. That was definitely wrong. He’d been way too long without a woman if such an innocent move gave him a hard-on that would drive stakes. After this endless assignment was over, he was going to take a long, long vacation. The assignment. He had to get back to the assignment. That’s why he was here, playacting the role of waiter in this haven of divorced women. It was

why he’d tracked an international diamond ring from Columbia to Brazil to Vancouver and finally to Buffalo. He’d put twelve long weeks of his time in on this and, if all the intel and previous legwork was right, the whole thing was coming to fruition in this isolated, high-end adult campground east of Niagara Falls. All he had to do was stay on top of the Triple D manager, Danny Deveaux, who was supposed to receive the shipment of diamonds this weekend, and then just call in backup. It was a simple, ingenious, flawless plan. Catch Deveaux with the goods, make the call and the agency would make simultaneous arrests around the world. The cartel would be dust. Do not pass go. Get your butt to jail. But he hadn’t counted on just how hard staying close to Deveaux would be as a waiter. It was a terrible job, but that wasn’t the biggest problem. The problem was that the Triple D was polluted with women. Lonely, horny, drunk women who thought every man on the place was there to be their personal plaything. And, unless he was sadly misreading things, the Triple D wasn’t just a front for the smuggled diamond trade. It was also a barely disguised whore house—except the prostitutes were guys and the Johns were Jills. That brought the woman back into his mind. She didn’t fit the stereotype. She didn’t have the bored, “dissipated woman looking to spend her hefty divorce settlement on a wild fling” look. No, that woman looked like some regular Joe’s wife. He could easily picture her married and bouncing a baby on one hip. Or riding her stud husband from dark to dawn. He sucked in his breath at that thought. Her breasts had been large but firm. He could see himself reaching up for a mouthful while she bounced those lovely full hips up and down his hard pole. He felt said pole rising to the occasion and shifted uncomfortably. Great, he’d be able to arrest Deveaux with a hard-on the size of Montana. His thoughts ricocheted back to the woman at the bar. She was the wrong piece in a large, nasty puzzle. What was she doing here? Mathews stiffened. The noise came to him from the left. If he were anybody else, he’d have missed it because it wasn’t really a sound so much as a breath. He was only a few feet from the manager’s cabin. He braced himself. He hadn’t seen any bodyguards, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. If they were, he’d just have to wing it. The situation was just too precarious to do anything else. He picked up a scent as the wind changed directions. It smelled just like her. Lemony, clean, fresh and pure. He felt his body begin to react like it had when she’d fallen against him, and his cock which had began to deflate,

gamely rose again with maddening desire. Damn, there his mind went again. When the blow came to his head, he had a moment to realize the shit had really hit the fan now. *** Betsy only felt a touch guilty following her mystery waiter. Truly, after being so close to him, none of the other men at the bar came close to attracting her. Besides, from the way each man was going from woman to woman, it felt almost sordid to her. She didn’t need, or want, sordid. Her waiter man hadn’t felt sordid at all. He’d felt sexy…and hard in all the right places. So when she’d seen him skirting through the shadows between the cabins, she’d decided to follow. If he was leaving work, maybe they could talk for a few minutes. If he was doing something else, like the men in the bar, well, it would be better to discover that now rather than later. She’d been two or three hundred feet behind him when he’d stopped dead in his tracks. She’d never been good at this making the first move stuff. And being out of the dating pool so long hadn’t improved her abilities. She shifted from one foot to the other. What could she say? What would he think? It was while she was mentally practicing her come-on line that she saw the shadowed movement beside him. A prickle of unease trickled over her. What was going on? Then things happened fast. Two men came from nowhere and attacked her waiter. She couldn’t cry, she couldn’t breathe. All she could do was watch in horror as her mystery man was taken down.

CHAPTER 2

Mathews sat stoically, his hands tied behind the back of a chair back, his feet bound to steel pegs and a gag over his mouth. He was alone at the moment, but he knew that wasn’t going to last. The bodyguards had gone to the get the boss. When he arrived, Mathews knew two things would happen. They’d try to force information from him to find out who he was and what he knew. Then they’d kill him. The cartel didn’t leave any witnesses. He’d been on the mop-up crew too many times for this outfit to have any illusions about his fate.

He tried to move his wrists in vain. The men who’d taken him out had been well-trained. They’d knocked him unconscious with a single blow from the butt of one of their rifles to the base of his skull. When he’d awakened, he was trussed up tighter than a turkey ready for roasting. Turkey. That’s what he was feeling like now. His vision was still a little blurry, which told him he had a concussion. Not surprising. The guy’s who’d caught him had both been in the bigger than gorillas, stronger than an ox category of thug. Since he’d been unconscious when they tied him up, he’d been unable to tense his muscles to make escaping easier. So now he’d just have to think, wait and plan. He looked around the kitchen of the cabin where he was being held. There was a door behind him, which he knew from studying the plans of the cabins before sneaking onto the ranch. There was another door in front of him leading to the main living area. He wished the kitchen door was open. Then he’d at least have warning when they were coming for him. Of course, they could always come in the back door, but he figured there’d be no help anyway. A small noise reached him. He stiffened slightly. They were back sooner than he expected. That must mean the boss had been close at hand. “Psst. Are you alone?” It was her. His woman. “Yes. Can you get in?” “Hang on a minute.” There was a tiny sound—glass breaking—then the snick of the deadbolt being opened. He almost smiled. He knew this woman was special. “I hope you don’t mind, but I followed you. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing when those two goons took you out.” “I’m glad you’re here. Thanks. But we really need to move this along. I don’t know how much time we have. Do you have something to cut me loose?” He kept his voice calm. He didn’t think she was the type to panic. Of course she wasn’t. She wouldn’t be here now if she was. “Uh, no. But wait a minute. This is a kitchen. There ought to be a knife here somewhere.” Good, she can think on her feet. He heard the sound of her opening drawers, then a little, “Ah-ha.” Seconds later he felt the blade slip between his wrists and he was free. She moved in front of him and knelt at his feet. She cut through the ropes and then looked up at him. He got that feeling at the base of his spine. She was the— “God, what did they do to you?” she gasped.

He reached up and felt the side of his face. It was swollen and he could tell from the wetness at his temple that he’d bled a little. It appeared the goons had done more than the blow to the back of his head. “It’s nothing,” he said. “It’s something. They hurt you. We’ve got to get you to a doctor.” Before he realized what she was going to do, she placed her palm gently against his wound. It was cool, dry and welcoming. Her fingers eased over the knot and rubbed gently through his hair. It was long, much longer than he normally wore it because he’d been uncover so long that going to the barber hadn’t been an option. She didn’t seem to mind as her fingers trailed gently through the black strands and massaged his scalp. He closed his eyes on a wave of longing. Then he felt her lips, gentle as a butterfly, brush over his temple to the far edge of his eyebrow. His hands moved to clasp her waist, his fingers spreading out to reach the curved bottom of her breasts. His fingers itched. There was really no other term for it. He moved them a bit and cupped the weight of her breast in his palm. She was so soft, so pliant, he nearly groaned with the desire to suckle her. She caught her breath at his touch, and he knew she wanted him to touch her nipple. His fingers hovered over one then closed in a gentle pinch. She groaned and he felt his desire rise. He wanted, more than anything else in this world, to pull her into his lap and take her here and now. Time was not their ally, though. “I don’t have time for this.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her, hard, deep and fast. When he broke away, he was breathing heavily, and she had a dazed look of longing on her face. “Thanks for helping me. Now, go back to your cabin and stay out of trouble. That’s an order.” He took her hand, turned and led her out the door. “Wait a minute…what’s your name? What’s going on?” “Just do what I ask, okay?” He patted her on the ass, then jogged around the corner of the cabin and melted into the woods. For a moment Betsy was stunned. The kiss had rocked her on her heels momentarily. Then the familiar little pat had shocked her even more. That had to be why she had stood there like a meek, little lamb. Well, what did she care? She’d done her duty. He was right. She should just go back to her cabin and stay out of sight. She headed in the same direction he’d taken. “Screw that. I wanted an adventure. Might as well go grab it.” ***

Mathews crouched about a hundred yards from a beach that led to the Niagara River. There was no one there now, but there had been moments ago and he’d almost run smack into them. Deveaux and the goons had just left to go back to his cabin. Fortunately, Mathews wasn’t sticking to the path, but was working his way through the overgrowth or else he’d be right back in the chair where he’d started. As it was, he’d been in the perfect position to overhear the threesome’s conversation. They figured they had half an hour until the delivery would arrive. Everything on their end at this beach was ready. Deveaux and his boys had calculated they had just enough time to take care of their troublemaker in the cabin. Mathews figured he now had about fifteen minutes, tops, to radio for help and get in the best position for when the delivery was made. He keyed his coordinates into the radio receiver, waited a second to get the green light they had been received then sat the homing device onto the soft ground under his feet. When he heard the slight rustle of sound behind him, this time he was ready. “Shit. I told you to go back to your cabin.” She just glared at him. “That wasn’t a very good way to thank the person who rescued you. Besides, I figured you were going to try and do something stupid. You might need help again.” Mathews put his hands on his hips and glared at her. He didn’t have time to babysit a civilian—even one with the moxie this one obviously had. He also didn’t have a lot of time for explanations. On the other hand, to get back to her cabin from here, she’d have to cross the trail right where the bad guys were. He couldn’t stomach the thought of sending her into harm’s way. “Well, I’ve got no choice now. But you have to absolutely do everything I tell you, the instant I say it. Understood?” She nodded. Mathews reached behind a large rock and pulled out a small pack. “Come with me. We’ve got reinforcements on the way, but it won’t hurt to put out a little extra insurance.” He melted into the undergrowth. Betsy moved, maybe not as quickly and certainly not as quietly, but she managed to stay pretty close to him and felt incredibly proud. They put trip wires in different places along the beach. He explained each one was a small detonation device. Not a bomb exactly—more like a firework that would warn them if anyone was entering or leaving the area. Hopefully, it would also startle the bad guys long enough they could catch them before they escaped. Then he led her back to the dense brushed area where she’d found him

and they settled in to wait. It didn’t take long. Betsy didn’t know if she was just beginning to adjust to the darkness or if she was actually getting good at it, but she caught the sound just seconds before he did. She recognized two of the men coming down the trails as the guys who’d ambushed her mystery man. The third man was the manager of the Triple D, Danny Deveaux. He’d introduced himself when she’d checked in earlier tonight. Betsy still didn’t know what exactly was going on, but she felt a chill at the sight of Deveaux walking easily with the two goons. She could catch snippets of his conversation. “Stupid to leave him alone…” “No time to find him now…” “You will bring him to me, dead or alive.” She shivered a little and felt a hand grasp hers in warning. She felt calm descend over her, which was completely silly. She didn’t even know this man’s name, yet he’d touched her more intimately than her husband had in the last seven years of their marriage. She also felt as if she could trust him more than she had ever trusted Bobby. What kind of idiocy was that? That’s when she heard the next sound. It was soft, coming across the river, almost like an electric razor buzzing. Betsy held her breath, trying with everything inside her to discern what the sound was. The men stopped at the edge of the water. They pointed a flashlight out over the water and flashed the light twice. After a second the buzzing sound grew louder and a large black, rubberized boat appeared about fifty feet offshore. She still didn’t know what was going on, but she didn’t like it. Now, instead of being outnumbered three to two, she and her mystery waiter were about to face nine-to-two odds when the six new men got out of the boat. She saw one of the newcomers shake hands with Deveaux then saw some gallon-sized plastic bags change hands. Then everything happened at once. Lights flashed from above as two helicopters rocketed into few. She heard sirens from cars crashing across the beach and a voice over a loudspeaker telling everyone to freeze. Like a slow-motion action movie, everyone started moving at once. Her mystery waiter sprang into action with a final admonition to stay put. She saw him head for Deveaux. Betsy only hesitated for a second before following. No way was she letting him out of her sight. She didn’t even know his name.

CHAPTER 3

It took about forty minutes to round everyone up. Mathews rubbed his hand wearily over his face and looked at his supervisor. “Now, tell me exactly how you managed to involve a civilian in this?” “I can’t begin to explain it all. But, sir, she acted in exemplary fashion.” His supervisor snorted. “I know that. If it hadn’t been for her knocking that third assailant on the head with the tree limb, you’d have more than just a few bruises on that hard skull of yours.” Mathews grimaced. “I know, sir. That’s the second time she’s saved my bacon tonight. Of course, it was her fault I lost Deveaux in the first place.” His supervisor looked at Mathews and waited. Mathews sighed. “Look, let me get her out of here. I promise I’ll tell you everything when we get back to the office. But I need her out of here before the press arrives.” His supervisor nodded and turned away. Mathews walked over to where Betsy sat on a log, guarded by two Marines. She looked up when he stood in front of her and smiled. “How’s the head?” she asked. “Just fine. That’s all, men,” he said to the Marines. After they left, he took her hand and helped her to her feet. “Let me escort you back to your cabin.” “Can I ask some questions now?” she said as they moved through the woods away from the mop-up action still taking place on the beach. “You’re entitled. Thanks, by the way, for saving my ass. Not only in the cabin, but with that guy on the beach.” She smiled. “Hey, it’s the least I could do. But I think that at least earns me a bonus.” Mathews looked at her. “Sure. That’s easy. What bonus do you want?” She chewed on her bottom lip as if in deep thought. Now that the action was over, Mathews felt the adrenalin that had been rushing through his body ratchet down to the next level, the one where his body was demanding a release. He could see himself thrusting over and over into this woman’s beautifully lush body. They were at the door to her cabin now. Would she ask him in? She paused and he let his body drift closer to her. She smelled just as enticing as she had earlier and his body kicked it up another notch. He could feel his cock growing, straining against the cotton of his pants.

“Whatever you want, I’ll give,” he added. She licked her lips. Once, then twice, drawing his gaze to them. They were full and, he remembered, tasted like ripe, sweet fruit. He lowered his head, keeping his eyes on hers. She didn’t blink, didn’t look away. He kept moving until his lips were tasting hers, lightly at first because he was determined to go slowly this time. He wanted to make this last all night. But the adrenalin high of the op, along with the need she’d aroused in him earlier, wasn’t having any part of patience. They wanted now, and wanted it hard, fast and deep. So he did what his body was demanding in his kiss. He took her lips and swept his tongue deep and fast inside her mouth. Her tongue danced with his, and he felt as if his desire was being sent back to him tripled. As their mouths mated, his hands were busy, tracing down the line of her back, over the curve of her waist, sweeping over her wonderful hips before running over that delicious ass of hers. He had a sudden, vivid vision of taking her from behind, those beautiful full globes facing him in all their beauty, her bent at the waist and him thrusting with all his might. The vision was for later fantasies, but it made his cock nearly burst out of his pants. He pulled her pelvis against him, daring her to stop them from continuing. When their lips broke apart, he took a breath, ready to step away. “Come inside, please.” Her soft words shafted through his restraint. She pushed open the door and he followed her. Her bed was to the right. They only made it as far as the couch. He took her lips in a kiss while removing her clothes. Her small, confident hands were making equally quick work of his. Soon, they were both naked. He ran his fingers through the curls at the juncture of her thighs and felt the dampness there. She was so responsive he nearly groaned with desire. She flexed her hips urging him deeper. He willingly obliged, inserting a finger in her vagina. “Oh, God, that feels good,” she said. He caught the groan from her lips with his own as his tongue mimicked the motions of his finger. He stroked inside her lips until he found the bud of her desire. It was slick with her juices and he felt as if he would explode if he didn’t get inside her now. “Come inside me,” she pleaded. “Now.” He didn’t need a second invitation. He removed his hand and moved into place between her legs. His cock was already leaking pre-cum and he knew it wouldn’t take many thrusts for him to reach his release. But he hadn’t been with a woman without a rubber in years. He wouldn’t risk any problems now, no matter that he didn’t want anything other than

skin between him and this woman. She sensed his hesitation and thrust her hips blindly against him. “I’m on the pill. Please God, now. Fuck me now.” Her words released his restraint. He thrust his way in, to the hilt with one push, and lost his breath at the feel of her tight canal squeezing him. “God, you’re so tight,” he said. “I thought you were divorced.” She laughed, and he thought he heard a bit of hysteria on the edge of it. “I was. But my husband hasn’t touched me for five years.” “Was he insane or an idiot?” She laughed. He felt the tremors quivering from the inside of her through to his cock and balls, then working their way into the pit of his stomach. It made him want to hear her laugh again. “Both.” He kissed her again and began thrusting at the same time. There was none of the usual uncoordinated groping to find a rhythm the first time he made love with a woman. It was if their bodies had been together through all time. Her hips matched his movements perfectly. His mouth left hers, trailing a column of warm wetness down her throat and finally over her rigid nipple. Because her breasts were large, he could see bluish, purple veins running just under the skin. Her nipples were large, brown and distended with her passion. He suckled, drawing another groan of desire from her. She tasted of cherries and passion. He squeezed her breast as he drew the flat, wide part of his tongue over her nipple and felt her quiver again. Feeling her responsiveness was a powerful turn-on. When she moaned and her head rolled wildly on the cushion, he felt his cock swelling even larger inside her pussy. His balls pulled tighter against his body, signaling just how close he was to coming. He began thrusting faster, harder and deeper. He grunted with the effort. He wanted one thing and only one thing, to get as deep into her as possible. He knew he was acting like a rutting animal, knowing only that he couldn’t stop now no matter what happened. He was close, so close, but he knew she was still reaching for the summit. With the last particle of reason left in his body, he knew he had to bring her to his level of ecstasy. Feeling as if he was moving in slow motion, he managed to move his hand, which was wildly pinching her other nipple down to where their bodies joined. He reached between them and inserted his index finger inside her pussy, running it momentarily beside his thrusting cock before moving to the top of her labia and finding her swollen clit. One swipe over that nubbin was all it took. He felt her spasms begin deep inside her as her slick canal tightened around him like a satin-gloved fist.

Stars exploded in front of his eyes and he shouted as his cum rushed from him. *** Betsy awoke a long time later. She felt better than she had in years. She was lying on the bed in her cabin. Her mystery man had carried her there from the couch after their explosive encounter. Then he’d made slow, leisurely love to her. It was like a dream come true. In fact, the whole thing had been dream-like. If it wasn’t for the fact that her breasts were red from his ministrations and there was a stickiness between her thighs, she might be able to convince herself the entire night had all been a fantasy. Suddenly, the silence in the cabin struck her and Betsy knew she was alone. She stood, wrapped the sheet around her and walked from the bedroom to the living room. There was no evidence here of her lover either. The cushions, which they’d kicked off the couch in the exuberance of their lovemaking, were back in place. Her clothes, which had been strewn all over every piece of furniture, were now in a neat pile on the chair. She walked across the carpet to the fireplace. That’s when she saw a small business card on the table. At first she thought it was blank, but when she turned it over she saw a ten-digit number. No name, nothing else, but she knew it belonged to him. She had the most amazing night of her life in bed and out, with her fantasy man. Now, she was alone. And she didn’t even know his name. TO BE CONTINUED…

TRIXIE STILLETTO

“Life is a smorgasbord of men. I believe in diving in like a starving woman hitting an all-you-can-eat buffet! “Seriously, I love men and have been fortunate enough to work, and play (thank God) with some of the most intriguing ones on this fair earth. There’s a little piece of each one in every hero I create. I’ve had all manner of odd jobs, such as waitress, cook and bottle washer for an all-night dive, truck driver, and, of course, writer. I write erotic romances because it’s much more fun to keep the bedroom door wide open. “My philosophy in life is simple. Love what you do and who you’re with and they’ll love you in return. Come and join me as I dive into the next delicious dessert.” *** Don’t miss Scarecrow & Betsy McGee, Book II: Mattress Games , by Trixie Stilletto, available soon from Amber Quill Press, LLC Betsy gets a job and Roarke needs her to keep her eyes open inside the mattress factory where more than just bedding is getting stuffed. But when they team up on a stakeout, they learn just how erotic things can get when they heat up more than just the mattresses…

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