by Green, A. S.
The Dirty Bits from Carina Press give you what you want, when you want it. Designed to be read in an hour or two, these sex-filled micro-romances are guaranteed to pack a punch and deliver a happily-ever-after.
Summer in the barn at Camp Winnepauk is about to get interesting
For years, part-time cowboy Luke has obsessed over a beautiful green-eyed girl he once saw in a magazine. Not a model, just a girl who captured his imagination...and then fueled every sexual fantasy he’s had ever since. When that picture comes to life in the form of Tess, a twenty-year-old counselor-in-training with a sexual appetite that rivals his own, Luke has finally met his match.
Tess wasn’t thrilled about spending the summer mucking out horse stalls, but things take a dramatic turn when she meets Luke. The tall, lean cowboy delivers more than she could have hoped for, showing her exactly what her body is capable of. There won’t be weeks of flirtation for these two: Tess is impatient and her cowboy...does...not...play.
This book is approximately 19,000 words
For those times when size does matter. The Dirty Bits from Carina Press: Quick and dirty, just the way we like it.
One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!
Also available from A.S. Green and Carina Press
Real Man
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Summer Girl
Wild Child
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
Luke
“Easy, girl.”
Juliet blows air past her lips and stomps her foot, while I run a towel over her trembling flank. I worked her hard, and it was a rough ride.
Now she’s watered and fed, along with the other horses in the stable, groomed and ready for a lazy afternoon in a newly bedded stall. For myself, I’ve got to head back to the lodge and rinse off the dust before Mr. and Mrs. Marsden get going on their annual pep talk. It’s mandatory attendance for Camp Winnepauk staff and counselors, even though I’ve heard it so many times before.
I’ve been running the camp’s horse program now for seven summers, ever since my senior year of college. My job is to keep the stables clean, the horses fed and tended, and to lead trail rides for rich city kids—most of whom don’t know a horse from a camel, let alone a mare from a gelding.
The other nine months of the year I’m what you might call a chronic intern—trying out one thing or the next, construction, bartender, office assistant... It isn’t that I can’t find anything permanent. Most of my internships turn into solid offers. Trouble is, I get bored easily and so long as I can afford gas and food, money has never been a big draw.
Case in point: for the last five years I’ve lived in a vintage Airstream travel trailer, the original “silver bullet,” which I pull around the Midwest with my somewhat newer Ford pickup. Even though the Marsdens have a room available for me in the lodge during camp season, I prefer staying in my own home. They’re cool with me keeping it parked behind the lodge, so I have easy access to the showers.
The showers. I check my watch. Yeah, I better hurry it up; the buses will be arriving in less than an hour.
I throw the dirty towel into the tack box, and Juliet nuzzles her nose against the side of my neck, giving me a nip.
“See you tomorrow, girl.” I pat her rump and she walks into her stall, immediately reveling in the thick, clean straw by dropping, rolling onto her back, then kicking her legs.
Fifteen minutes later, I’ve stripped off my dirty Levi’s, and I’m standing under a steady stream of hot water, watching the dirt and grime swirl down the drain. My hair hangs over my eyes, reminding me that I needed a haircut over a month ago. I push it back then absentmindedly lather up my hands and cup my balls. Ah, fuck me.
I didn’t mean for this to be anything more than a quick rinse, but my dick reacts to my hand. I haven’t been with a woman in months, so this won’t take long.
I pull to mind my favorite image, a girl I once saw in a magazine—not a model, just a girl with long, chestnut-brown hair and these amazing bright green eyes that were set wide in her face and fringed in thick brown lashes. Since the first time I saw her, she’s never left me. And she always does the trick.
My soapy hand runs the length of my cock, which thickens in my palm. I let out a groan and brace myself against the shower wall, resting my forehead against my forearm. Down, up, squeeze over the tip. I don’t neglect my balls either, which are swelling and hanging heavier and heavier between my legs the more I picture those fantastic green eyes.
I imagine some dirty words coming out of her mouth, then her hand on my cock as I stroke again, slowly, letting the tension build. My thighs start to shake and my spine tingles when she drops to her knees in front of me. I pump hard, and the next thing I know, I’m clenching my teeth and jacking my shit like there’s no tomorrow. Oh, fuck yeah.
I never lose sight of those eyes, even when I throw my head back and let out a long, animalistic groan that goes on forever while I shoot all over the shower wall. It just keeps coming. I’m like a special effect. Fuck, that girl is amazing.
The fantasy is broken when some killjoy beats a fist on the bathroom door. “Ten minutes, Aspen!”
I drop my head forward and give my heart a second to settle. When I open my eyes, I laugh at the impressive display of come all over the shower wall. I guess I needed that.
I wash off the evidence then turn the shower handle. When I fling open the curtain, I’m surprised to discover I’ve been in here long enough to fill the room with steam. I check my watch on the counter. Nine minutes until the staff meeting.
No problem. As I said, it’s not like I haven’t heard the speech before. I probably could recite it by heart.
I’m only a minute late when I join everyone in the dining hall. Most of the counselors are college seniors or graduates wearing the classic camp uniform: Birkenstock sandals or water shoes, loose shorts, and red T-shirts with the Camp Winnepauk logo. The senior staff members—me, the lifeguard, and the camp nurse—get a pass on the matching T-shirts.
I’m wearing my usual uniform of a clean pair of Levi’s, buttoned shirt, and boots. Tonight, I’m even wearing a cowboy hat because Mrs. Marsden thinks it “enhances the authenticity of the equine program.”
She takes the small stage at the end of the dining hall and the new counselors draw in close. Mr. Marsden joins her on stage and gives us all a warm smile.
“Welcome to Camp Winnepauk!” he says, holding his arms wide and displaying his sizable paunch. “Welcome back for those of you who have been with us before.”
Mrs. Marsden is much thinner than her husband, bony even, but with a soft face. She makes a cheering gesture, pumping her arms in the air like we’ve won some championship game.
Mr. Marsden continues his speech. “We have a proud tradition here at Camp Winnepauk, going back to 1956. Families send their sons and daughters to us because they know we can give them many of the sk
ills and experiences they can’t get in the classroom. Take your leadership responsibilities seriously.”
He glances around the room to make sure his point has sunk in then he continues.
“In addition to our campers, we also have a group of counselors in training, or CITs. They are your peers: recent high school graduates and college underclassmen, who hope to be standing right where you are next summer. We expect you to instill in them a love for this camp so that our future is secure.
“Now. Some basic rules. They are all written clearly in your packets, which you picked up this morning, but I’ll reiterate them now because they are important for a safe and happy summer. First.” He holds up one finger. “Unless there’s a special all-camp activity like tonight’s bonfire or a movie, lights out in the cabins by ten thirty. Two: All campers must wear life jackets when on any of our watercraft, no matter its size and no matter how close to shore.”
He continues to enumerate, raising another finger each time. “All campers must be present at meal time, or be in the nurse’s station. No flip-flops on the nature paths or near the stables. And of course, it hardly needs to be said, but no fraternization among the staff, which includes the CITs. And by that we mean no physical relationship of any kind.”
There are some snickers in the crowd and the exchange of a few nervous glances. It’s the same reaction every year, but as far as I know, no one’s ever tested the rules. At least, I don’t know anyone who’s ever been busted.
“Now, for those of you who are leading a cabin, we have your camper lists over on the table. Please pick yours up, along with a Camp Winnepauk pen. It’s yours to keep. We’ll all reconvene in the circle in five minutes and hope that the buses arrive on time this year.
“Again, thank you, everyone! You are what makes Camp Winnepauk a huge, huge success!”
Chapter Two
Luke
We all file out of the lodge and gather again on the mowed field inside the circular driveway that we call the loop. The lodge is located at the east end of the loop, and behind it is a large lake for boating and swimming.
The stables are opposite the lodge on the west side of the loop. The rest of the circle is lined with twelve cabins—all weathered gray with faded red roofs. Cabins one through six are on the north side for girls; cabins seven through twelve are on the south side for boys.
When two Greyhound buses pull in right on time, the Marsdens sigh with relief. The new counselors start clapping and singing the Camp Winnepauk “Welcome Song.”
Then, one after another, the campers disembark. The youngest are nine, the oldest fifteen. The CITs disembark last.
I stand, silently, at the far edge of our staff grouping, facing the buses and the new arrivals. I don’t supervise a cabin, so no need for me to take center stage.
Clearly so much older than the campers, the CITs stand slightly apart, in a group directly in front of me. Six guys and six girls, some of whom are all made up like they didn’t know they were coming to camp.
And there... In an Alpha Phi sorority sweatshirt. At the front of the pack. Facing me. Staring me down with those amazing eyes, bright green and set wide in her face... Oh, fuck me. It’s her.
Okay. It’s not the actual girl from the magazine, but damn near close.
I never thought of her as being so tiny. She can’t be much more than five foot, but curvy, and perfectly proportioned to her height. But more than her sweet body, it’s those eyes that grab me by the balls and threaten to turn me inside out.
Those amazing eyes. They’re almost too big for her face. I let out a low moan, remembering all she did to me in the shower, and the counselor to my right breaks out of the song and shoots me a look of alarm. I’d say “excuse me,” “sorry,” or clear my throat maybe, but I can’t do any of that because I’m too focused on this girl. I am transfixed.
And so, it seems, is she.
She stares at me, just like she did from the magazine. She’s staring at me like she knows what I’m thinking. Like she knows what we did just an hour ago.
She touches the back of her hand to the underside of her nose, and her cheeks flush.
Reflexively, I let my hand graze the front of my jeans to determine how much everyone might know right now then I take off my hat and hold it in front of me. Screw the Marsdens’ rules. If she’ll have me, this girl is mine.
She bites her bottom lip and glances down at my hat. Hell yeah. She’ll have me. I imagine her under me, knees pulled high and splayed wide, putting herself on display, and I get the distinct feeling our imaginations are in sync. It won’t be imaginary for long. In my mind I have already tasted her lips and moved on to other parts. I’m on top of her, feasting on her, while her sweet mouth is simultaneously wrapped around my twitching cock. I’m going to—
She blinks and looks away, focusing on the Marsdens’ announcements. Our connection broken, my mind snaps back to normal. Holy shit! What in the name of porno fantasies everywhere is wrong with me?
I rake my hand through my too-long hair and tell myself to get a grip. Time to banish the beast, or it’s gonna be one fuck of a long summer.
Chapter Three
Tess
The introductory songs and speeches are finally over and all the campers have been called and separated into their respective cabin units. The camp nurse has logged, tagged, and taken possession of everyone’s cell phones for the summer. In all the activity, the guy in the cowboy hat, I realize sadly, has disappeared. Only the CITs and the camp directors are left standing by the buses.
Mr. Marsden leads the guys to their cabin on the south side of the loop. Mrs. Marsden leads us girls to our cabin on the north side.
This is my first time at Camp Winnepauk. I thought it would be a good thing to have on my résumé before I graduate in two years with a degree in elementary education: CIT this summer, full-fledged counselor the next, then off to graduation and a full-time job as a kindergarten teacher. Hopefully.
I hadn’t been so sure at first, but now I’m thinking Camp Winnepauk might be the answer to my prayers. Working with kids will be cool, but my enthusiasm has more to do with the tall, lean cowboy who faced off with me like we were at the OK Corral.
At first, with the way he was staring, I wondered if my shirt was on inside out, or worse, that I had something in my nose. But then I realized he was staring at me in a way that said he liked what he saw. No one, and I mean no one, has ever looked at me like that.
Not that there hasn’t been interest, just that the guys I’ve hooked up with have all been very...cautious. None of them were ever willing to explore anything beyond awkward foreplay and a quick run at the missionary position.
One of them even said I was so small he was afraid of breaking me. Psh. Coward.
This means that, so far, all my sexual fantasies have been worked out with my own hand between my legs while watching amateur pornos on Tumblr. Something about Cowboy makes me think he’d be ready and willing. I wouldn’t have to be embarrassed or worry what he thought of me.
As we reach our cabin, I shake my head to clear away the remains of my lusty stupor. There’s a birchbark placard with the number six nailed to our porch railing. We all traipse up the steps with our luggage, sleeping bags, and pillows, while Mrs. Marsden holds open the squeaky screen door.
Inside, the cabin is a perfect square. Wood floor. Two windows on each wall. Six beds with thin, striped mattresses. Each bed has an informational packet on it, along with a sticky-backed nametag already marked in black Sharpie.
“Find your names. You can trade beds if you want,” Mrs. Marsden says. “Just make sure you get the right packet. Inside you’ll find your assignment for the summer and a copy of the camp rules. They’re the same as the rules for our regular counselors and all our campers.”
When I open my packet, a tremor runs down my spine, heading straight for my clit.
I’ve been assigned to Equine. That means horses. Does it also mean Cowboy? I’m not complaining, but how is this possible? I’d put down art as my number one choice, water sports as my number two.
“Mrs. Marsden?” I ask.
“Yes, dear? Tess is it?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m...um...happy with my assignment, but you should know... I don’t know much about horses.”
She sighs. “I know. Unfortunately, we didn’t get any CITs this summer with equine experience. We noticed in your application materials, however, that your father is a veterinarian. You were our best option.”
My eyebrows shoot up because, frankly, the logic seems to have missed a few connecting dots. Regardless, I don’t argue. Hopefully I won’t make too big of a fool of myself.
“Luke Aspen is our equine specialist,” Mrs. Marsden says. “You may have noticed the young man in the hat? He’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
My mouth pop opens, and when she walks over to one of the other girls, I look back down at my packet. Luke Aspen will teach me everything I need to know.
“No doubt,” I whisper. And now my tall, blond cowboy has a name.
Chapter Four
Luke
I lean up against the paddock gate and try to look calm as she heads my way. I actively do not groan when she jogs down the steps of cabin six and her perfect breasts give a healthy bounce. At the very least, I pretend that my cock isn’t straining against my zipper.
After dinner tonight, when Mrs. Marsden pointed out my new assistant from across the dining hall, I clenched my jaw so hard I nearly broke a tooth. I must have given the impression of being upset because Mrs. Marsden assured me that, despite the girl’s size, she was smart and would learn fast. Her comment didn’t help matters.
The girl quickly covers twenty feet, half the distance between her cabin and the stables. I remind myself that she’s only coming to me because Mrs. Marsden told her to. All the CITs were instructed to go to their assigned activity after dinner and discuss the plans for tomorrow.
