by Anita Kidesu
Church? What the hell did church have to do with anything? He knelt beside her. “Can you tell me why?”
She looked up at him. Streaks of mascara ran down her cheeks. Red lipstick smeared across her chin. A strand of hair clung to her lips.
“You’re scaring me, Josie. What happened?”
“I had another surprise for you. I was going to meet you at the door, but…” She stood and opened the coat.
His breath caught, his balls tingled, and his cock stood up and said “hello.” It was every man’s dream to come home to his wife dressed like he was about to become the luckiest man on earth. The red push-up bra gave her enough cleavage to bury his nose in. The matching thong barely hid her pussy. Lacy red nylons were clipped to a red garter belt, and her spiked black heels made her legs look as if they could wrap around him twice.
“Wow. You look incredible.” Wanting to kiss every inch of her delicious body, he reached for her. He frowned when she backed away.
“You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you explain?”
“I was reading a book while I waited for you. When the doorbell rang, I thought you’d forgotten your key. So I opened the door, opened my coat, and there stood—” She shuddered and covered her face with her hands.
“Who? What did they do to you? Are you hurt?”
“No. It was Reverend Klatt.”
Carson snorted. “You’re kidding. What did he want?” He bit his lip to hold back the laughter.
“I don’t know. I was so shocked I slammed the door in his face.” Josie sat back down. “Now you see why I can never go to church again.” Her words were punctuated with sobs.
Reverend Klatt was eighty if he was a day. “I’m surprised I didn’t find him on the front steps, suffering from a heart attack.”
“Don’t you dare laugh. This isn’t in the least bit funny.”
Carson took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s not funny.” Oh hell, he couldn’t help it. The situation was hilarious. Laughter, along with an unmanly snort, rose from the back of his throat. “I. Can’t. Imagine. The. Expression. On. His. Face.” He slapped his knees and wiped at his tears, puffing between each word.
“Dammit, Carson.”
“Oh, come on.” He pulled her into his arms, mainly so she couldn’t see his grin. “You have to admit, this is pretty damn amusing. I’m sure he’ll never bring it up if you don’t mention it to him.”
“Not a problem since I’m never going to that church again.”
“Yes, you will.” He slipped his hands into the trench coat and rubbed his palms up and down her back. “So, what’s this I hear? You’re the one who got my boss to let me leave early?”
She snuggled her face into his neck. “I called the hotel and was able to get our room tonight. I thought we could leave this afternoon.”
Carson’s cock grew when she swiped her tongue over his skin. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t change.”
She pulled back in his arms. Her eyes widened. As if trying to find the needed words, her mouth opened and closed. “Are you kidding?”
“Remember the candy hearts? Surprise me. Do something daring.”
“I thought this was daring. So far our surprises to each other haven’t worked out so well.”
“C’mon. It’s only a four-hour drive. What can happen?” The idea of his wife riding beside him wearing next to nothing had him racing to their bedroom to change clothes. This was going to be one hell of a trip.
Chapter Four
“Shit, shit, shit,” Carson muttered, kicking the flat tire. Freeway traffic flew past them, shaking the car. Luckily, the flat was on the passenger side, and he’d pulled over as far as he could, so he didn’t need to worry about being too close to the road.
“Pop the trunk, will you?” He opened the trunk and pulled out the jack and the spare tire. The tire hit the pavement with a solid thunk. No bounce. No air.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Flat, if not flatter than the bad tire. He threw the jack on the ground. The crowbar bounced back up and whacked him in the shin. “Son-of-a-bitch!”
“What’s wrong?”
He hobbled to Josie’s open window. To save gas, they’d turned off the engine and opened all the windows.
“The spare is flat, and I got zinged in the shin by the damn crowbar.” At her raised eyebrow, he went on. “I know. I shouldn’t have thrown it.”
“It seems like I’ve been saying this a lot, but now what?”
“I guess we wait for some Good Samaritan to stop. I’m not getting cell service out here.”
“Me neither.”
He leaned through the window and ran a finger over the top of her breast. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she should have changed into something a little more appropriate for traveling. Now he was getting turned on and there was no hope of follow through.
“As good as that feels, this may not be a good idea.” Josie shivered as a crisp wind lifted the hair off her forehead. He’d left his jacket in the car. This was Texas, and though it might be February, sixty degrees felt like a tropical breeze compared to the twenty below winters in Wisconsin.
A flash of red and blue lights caught the corner of his eye. “Help has arrived.”
He moved from the window and faced the state trooper’s car stopping behind them.
The officer sat in the cruiser for a minute before getting out. Carson figured he was checking the license plate number. The man finally stepped out of his vehicle and placed his hat on his head.
“Trouble, sir?” he asked, approaching Carson.
Like the officer from earlier in the week, this man seemed too young to be carrying a gun. But as Carson got older, he found everyone else became younger. His doctor. Dentist. Policemen. This guy had to be fresh out of the academy. “Yes. Not only did we get a flat tire, but the damn spare is flat, too.”
“Could I see your registration and license, sir?”
“For a flat tire?”
“Sir, please hand me your registration and license.”
Carson pulled out his wallet, handed the trooper his ID. When Carson reached inside Josie’s window, she handed him the registration.
The officer headed toward his cruiser, stopped, and turned back. “Is there someone in your vehicle, sir?”
“Uh, yes. My wife.” He pointed to the flat tire. “Can we please get some air in the spare so my wife and I can get on the road? We’re headed for a get-a-way on South Padre Island, and now we’ll lose time getting the tired fixed somewhere.”
The officer stared at him a moment, then walked to Josie’s window.
“Is everything all right, ma’am?”
“I’m fine, officer.” Josie’s voice quivered. From the cold or was she nervous?
The trooper—Peters by the name on his uniform—opened the door. “Ma’am, step from the vehicle.”
Frowning, Carson bit back the slew of swear words as he remembered what was beneath the trench coat, or more accurately, what wasn’t.
Josie stood. Thankfully, she’d fastened the coat. She held the collar together with one hand. He glanced between Josie and Carson and placed his hand on his holster. Shit. What was going on with this guy?
“Sir, I want you to stay where you are.”
Sirens wailed from a distance, quickly becoming louder and louder. Before Carson could wonder if there was an accident farther up the freeway, two cruisers roared to a stop, one behind the first vehicle and one in front of their car. What the hell was going on? Was someone checking on the fresh-faced trooper?
Traffic slowed as rubberneckers stared. The new troopers—one at least a decade older than the other two—approached, their guns drawn.
“What’s going on?” Carson asked, getting more and more worried about the troopers’ actions.
“The vehicle you have has been reported stolen,” Peters said.
“This is my car.
Has been for years.”
Peters ignored him. “Sir, what’s in the trunk?”
“Trunk? Suitcases.”
“Toss your keys over here, face the car, and put your hands on the roof.”
“What the hell for?”
“Just do what you’re told, sir, and no one will get hurt.”
Hurt? This was getting serious. He couldn’t comprehend what the hell they were thinking, but he didn’t want to make things worse by arguing. He reached into his shorts’ pocket, pulled out the car keys, and tossed them to the ground near Peters’ feet. Instead of going to Josie and wrapping her in his arms like he wanted, Carson followed the rest of the instructions.
The keys jingled as Peters tossed them to one of the other men. “Mathers, open the trunk. Ma’am, I want you to face the car and place your hands on the hood.”
From the corner of his eye, Carson saw the trunk glide upward.
“What’s in there?” Peters asked Mathers.
“Suitcases,” Mathers answered. “Nothing else.”
“What’s in the suitcases?” The question came from Peters.
“Stuff for our trip,” Carson said over his shoulder. “Clothes, deodorant, toothpaste, shampoo. Things like that.”
“Mathers, open the suitcases.”
“Have you run his ID?” the older trooper asked.
Peters ignored Mathers and stared at Carson.
“Why are you doing this?” Carson tried to keep the agitation out of his voice, but frustration was making it difficult. “All we have is a flat tire. You don’t need to dig through them.”
“As I said before, this vehicle has been reported stolen.”
“Once again, this is my car. And what’s in our possession is personal.”
“Uh, Peters. I think he’s telling the truth.”
Carson cringed. All the little “surprises” he’d bought for their weekend were packed in his backpack so Josie wouldn’t find them. Mask, massage oil, flogger, handcuffs, dildo, a few books, and movies. All the things he’d wanted to use with her in the past. For some reason, he’d thought this trip was a good time to introduce themselves to a little kink.
“Did you or did you not run his ID and registration?” When Peters didn’t answer, Mathers wiggled his fingers at the younger man. “Give them to me.” Peters handed them over, and Mathers gave them to the other trooper. “Run these.”
Peters stood by Carson. “So you’re going on a trip, huh? Is your wife agreeable to this trip?”
“Of course, she is. Why the hell would you think otherwise?”
“Because she doesn’t seem very happy right now, and those items in the suitcase tell me you’re up to something no good.”
“She doesn’t look happy because she isn’t. We’ve done nothing wrong, yet you’re treating us like criminals.”
Mathers slammed the trunk shut and came alongside them. He looked at Peters. “I think you’re overreacting. It’s obvious they’re a couple going away for a good time. Whether they’re husband and wife is none of our business.”
“I am his wife, you moron.” Shivering, Josie took her hands from the car and turned to face the men.
Carson shook his head. Evidently, she’d had enough, but one didn’t go around calling troopers morons—even if she was right.
“Ma’am, stay where you are.”
“C’mon, Peters. Haven’t you ever gone away on a romantic trip with your wife? Hell’s bells, Valentine’s Day is coming up. Let’s get their tire fixed and get them on their way.”
“Something’s fishy here.” He eyed Josie. “Ma’am, are you being coerced to go with this man?”
She clenched her fists where she held the top of the coat. “No, dammit. I’m not being coerced. It’s just like he said. We’re going away for the weekend. His parents took our kids on a trip, and this is a chance to spend some time alone together.”
“Once again, I’m going to ask you, are you being held against your will?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Her voice rose high enough to be heard over a passing semi.
“That’s enough. Let’s go,” Thompson said as he approached Peters.
“I’m not leaving until I know she’s okay.”
Carson raked his fingers through his hair. What the hell was this man thinking? “I simply want to spend some quality time with my wife.”
“Peters. I’m ordering you to let this go,” Mathers said.
Once more ignoring the older officer, Peters held his stance. “Ma’am?”
Josie’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding?”
Then her forehead creased. Her tightened lips didn’t bode well for Peters. But when her fingers worked the top button of her coat open, Carson bit back a laugh. His wife had reached her breaking point. “This is going to be good.”
Hands shaking as she glared at Carson, she undid the second button, then the next. Nearly bare breasts came into view. One wrong move and her nipples would be exposed. Next to him, Mathers coughed. Carson frowned. The third trooper went quiet.
Josie couldn’t believe this was happening, but the only way Peters would believe them was to prove she wasn't hiding anything under her coat. Her hand slowed, anger fizzling and her stomach dipping, as she released each button. The air cooled her flushed skin as the coat separated, exposing more of her flesh.
Not one man said a word, but several Adam’s apples slid up and down. Their eyes followed her fingers over the swells of her breasts. They were totally engrossed. She didn’t know whether to feel shocked by their reactions or her own.
Chapter Five
Josie shivered. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. How could standing on the side of the freeway with traffic roaring past and four men—three of them police officers—watching her strip be such a turn on?
With each button giving way, her body vibrated as four pair of male eyes stared, intent on her every move, almost caressing her. Her blood pumped faster. Her heart raced so fast, they had to be able to see it pounding in her chest.
Closing her eyes to block out the feelings rushing through her didn’t help. She imagined them taking turns kissing her, licking every inch of her body, shoving fingers inside her pussy, sucking her hardened nipples. Through her bra they had to be obvious to the men. What would Carson think if he knew what was going through her mind and body? Lust settled in her core. Her pussy quivered.
She opened her eyes and glanced at her husband. His eyes burned with an intensity that rocked her. A definite hard-on tented his shorts. Was he turned on by watching her or from the men staring at her? Men who all sported erections, even hard-nosed Peters.
As if calling to each man, her hips swayed to a silent beat. The world tumbled away. Traffic noises receded. It was only her, Carson, and three sexy troopers. She resisted the urge to run her hands down her stomach as the coat opened past her navel. Only two more buttons to go.
She licked her lips and closed her eyes again. It wasn’t her hands undoing the last two, but their hands. The air was cool against her heated skin. She pulled the sides of the coat apart and opened her eyes again.
“Does this look like I’m unwilling?” Lord, she sounded like Mae West and felt like the biggest tart in the world. The surprising part? She loved it.
Peters swallowed. Mathers tipped his hat back on his head. The other trooper wiped his hands down his tan pants. Her husband rubbed the bulge under his fly.
“Uh. No, ma’am,” Peters mumbled.
Turning her back on the men, she lowered the coat, exposing her bare ass. “How about this?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.
“Holy shit,” Mathers said, his words coming out a whisper.
“I told you,” Carson said, moving toward her.
Mathers followed. Was she about to be frisked? Oh, boy. She hoped so.
A semi’s horn blared. Cat-calls followed. Tires squealed. She glanced over the hood of the car. Traffic had come to a stop. As one, the men came out of their stupor.
Peters took a deep breath. “Okay, men. Obviously she isn’t being kidnapped.”
“I told you so,” Mathers said. “But just like always, you don’t listen.” He pointed to Peters and Thompson. “Get traffic moving.”
“Now do you believe us?” Carson asked.
Josie shook her head, hoping he would get the idea not to sound so sarcastic.
“Yes. Please accept my apologies. Peters is new and overzealous. The kid typed in the wrong plate number.” Mathers turned to Josie. “I would suggest, though, that next time you wear something more appropriate for traveling.”
“I wasn’t planning on exposing myself to anyone. Except my husband.”
She wasn’t about to tell him how it had turned her on for them to watch. She didn’t even know if she dared tell Carson, but something in his eyes during her short disrobing made her think it had turned him on, too.
“If you had listened to us, I wouldn’t have had to go through this public humiliation.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Mathers tipped the brim of his hat. “We can’t be too careful. Peters was simply doing his job.”
“What about my spare tire?” Carson asked.
“You’re not far from the next exit. The spare is probably flat because it’s been sitting in your car for a long time. We’ll get enough air in it to get you to town. There’s a place just off the freeway that can fix the other tire for you.”
“Traffic’s moving again,” Thompson said as he and Peters returned. He smiled and winked at Josie. “Thanks for the enjoyable afternoon. Take care.” He touched the brim of his hat and jumped in his cruiser.
Josie couldn’t hold back a grin. Her insides quivered. Wow. Like holy cats, wow.
Fifteen minutes later, Carson, Mathers, and Peters worked on replacing the flat with the newly inflated spare. Josie took in three pairs of broad shoulders, forearm muscles flexed. All three squatted, showing off asses in tight slacks or shorts. Carson’s ass was still firm, too. Were the other men’s thighs as muscular as they appeared?
