by Jenna Jacob
“I would. I really, really would.”
Sawyer smiled, then turned to Jason, one of the counselors. “Miss Tina and I are going for a little ride on Thunderbolt. We’ll be back shortly in case anyone is looking for us.”
“Got it, boss. You two have fun.” Jason nodded as he helped another child in a wheelchair clear the lift gate.
“Thunderbolt?” Tina asked with an audible gulp. “Does he go fast?”
“As fast as you want him to.”
Tina reached up and lightly brushed her thin fingers along the horse’s shoulder. “Not too fast, okay, Thunderbolt?”
The horse jerked his head as if answering. Tina’s face filled with wonder all over again. The horse stood motionless—as he’d been trained—while Sawyer hoisted himself onto the custom-fabricated saddle. Gripping the metal horn, he leaned over and plucked Tina off the ground. She let out a tiny squeal of surprise. Her crutches clanged together while she held tight to Sawyer’s arm.
“Easy, Tina. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall,” he assured. “You’re doing great, sunshine.”
After settling the girl onto the front portion of the saddle, he helped her out of her crutches and slid them into a specially designed leather sheath behind him. With one arm, he reached around her and unwound the reins from the saddle horn before handing them to her.
“Take us away, Tina.”
“Me?” she squawked in a small voice.
“Yes, you.”
“Oh, wow,” she whispered. She clutched the reins in her bony fists. “Giddyup.”
Sawyer lightly tapped the heels of his boots against Thunderbolt’s sides. The horse reared its head and let out a loud whinny. Tina giggled, before Thunderbolt began slowly moving toward the pasture entrance.
“I got it,” Nate called. Jogging toward the galvanized metal gate, he swung it open wide. As Sawyer and Tina passed him, Nate doffed his Stetson. Bowing deep, he raised his head and winked at the little girl. “Your pasture awaits, my queen.”
Tina covered her mouth and laughed. It was the second sweetest sound Sawyer had heard all day. Brea’s sultry timbre was the first.
CHAPTER FOUR
With her duffle bags stowed in the back of Jade’s truck, Brea rode shotgun toward Barbara’s house. When they pulled into the driveway, she fell instantly in love with the Victorian gingerbread-style home. It looked like an oversized dollhouse. As they climbed the stairs and onto the white wraparound porch, she sighed. Ivy climbed the multicolored spindles and white lattice panels. Brea couldn’t wait to spend a month in the beautiful house…
Until Barbara opened the screen door and Ozzie, a massive black and tan Doberman, raced onto the porch, nearly knocking Brea on her ass. After circling her legs, Ozzie stopped. He drove his nose between her thighs, furiously sniffing her crotch. Her face caught fire as she tried to shove the beast’s muzzle away.
“And you thought you were through with men,” Jade giggled.
She shot her bestie a steely glare. “You are so not funny.”
Jade laughed harder.
“Sorry about that,” Barbara sheepishly groaned. “Ozzie! Leave it.”
At her command, the dog jerked his head from Brea’s crotch and padded over to nuzzle his mistress’s hand. Barbara sent her an apologetic frown. “Crazy beast. I swear he’s part Alabama crotch-hound. Please, come inside.”
With a wary eye on Ozzie, she followed Jade and Barbara into the house. To Brea’s relief, the cooch-sniffing mutt kept his nose out of her business while his mistress took them on a tour of her magnificent home. It had a warm, welcoming vibe, and Brea was charmed with the walnut pocket doors and glossy hardwoods. But it was the detailed crown molding and bull’s-eye-trimmed windows framed against crisp white walls that took her breath away. The craftsmanship was astounding, and the intricate carved spindles surrounding a grand staircase were icing on the cake. It wasn’t going to be a hardship to spend a month in such architectural splendor.
After the tour, they waved good-bye to Jade, who promised to stop by often. Then Brea and Barbara spent the next several hours going over everything from breaker boxes to bird feeders and how to care for the massive flower and vegetable beds in the backyard. Ozzie ran wild, barking and chasing birds, while Barbara and Brea sat at a marble-topped outdoor dining set. Relaxing under the wide umbrella, the women talked and sipped ice tea.
Ozzie lifted his leg and relieved himself on the chain-link fence separating Barbara’s yard from her neighbor’s.
“Oh, I almost forgot. If something breaks…the dishwasher, garden hose…anything, my neighbor, Neville, is a natural-born repairman. He’s great with his hands.”
Brea nearly spewed tea out her nose. Coughing and sputtering, she finally cleared her throat and sent Barbara a suggestive grin. “Oh, really?”
“Not like that. Heavens no.” The woman, all flustered and embarrassed, blushed wildly. “He helps me with house repairs from time to time. That’s it.”
Brea glanced at the chestnut-colored two-story craftsman over the fence and wondered why Barbara hadn’t enlisted Neville to watch her dog and house. Then again, with a name like Neville, he might be hours away from moving into the nursing home. Or worse…he could be buckets full of crazy like Emmett, the scary Bigfoot hunter.
Brea was quickly learning that while Haven was a quaint town, some of its occupants were pretty strange.
Back inside the house, the women prepared an early dinner. Brea realized how much she’d missed the company of another female. The time she’d spent with both Jade and Barbara had been more relaxing than a day spa. Brea didn’t have to worry about interrupting some amazing punt return on TV or being hounded about clean socks and reminded that the milk was all gone. It was like a breath of fresh air, a vacation, and she was enjoying every single second. She was even aware of the strange sense of peace growing inside her.
Like old friends, she and Barbara sat talking and laughing. The woman had a dry and biting sense of humor that Brea enjoyed. It wasn’t long after the sun went down that Barbara thanked her once more for coming to the rescue, then said good night and good-bye.
As darkness closed in, Brea snagged a romance novel from the bookshelves and climbed the stairs. Halfway through the first chapter, she zonked completely out.
The sounds of birds chirping and a lawn mower churning in the distance tugged her from yet another sinfully erotic dream featuring none other than Sawyer. Brea tossed back the covers and moaned. Her girl parts still ached from the numerous nocturnal sexcapades that’d had her coming in her sleep. Ozzie’s toenails clapped across the wooden floor. As she sat up, the dog padded to the bed and dropped his muzzle on the mattress beside her. With sad brown eyes, he peered up at her and whined. It was obvious that the crotch-sniffing hound was mourning the loss of his mistress. Reaching down, she stroked his head and ears.
“It sucks not being with the one you want. Trust me. I know. Don’t worry. Your mommy hasn’t abandoned you forever. Me, on the other hand…yeah, well…that’s a sad story even your big, brave puppy-dog heart doesn’t want to hear.”
The pup issued a heavy, pitiful sigh. He stared up at her with an even sadder expression and Brea’s heart melted.
“All right. I can see I’m going to need to declare this a no-moping day. Let’s go get you a treat. That ought to cheer you up…it always does me. Of course, my treats walk on two legs and do things with their tongues that…” Brea let out a low growl.
Ozzie quirked one ear and cocked his head at her. With a laugh, she pulled off her wrinkled T-shirt and tugged a clean one on. She’d been so exhausted last night she’d fallen asleep fully dressed.
After feeding and watering the dog, she gave him his promised treat, then made a pot of strong coffee. Leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for her caffeine infusion to brew, images of Sawyer’s face and all the wicked things he’d done to her in her dreams plowed through her brain. Her skin tingled and her body hummed.
“Oh, get a
grip. You’re not sixteen anymore. Stop pining over him like you did Luke Perry. You’re a grown woman. You can’t go around with your head in the clouds. Mr. Wet Dream, who kept you up all night, has character flaws like all the rest. The only difference is you haven’t discovered them yet…and you’re not going to. Because you’re going to stay far, far away from that sinful side of beef, even if it kills you.”
Talking to herself did little to sway Sawyer from her thoughts. Of course, her brain cells were still pulsating from the numerous orgasms he’d given her—in her dreams. She needed to find a way to turn off her subconscious to keep from torturing herself and get a good night sleep. Besides, she was there to take care of things for Barbara, not fixate on her own over-imaginative libido.
After a shower and a light breakfast, Brea called her boss, Charlie, and tiptoed around the debacle with the cops, Weed, and the drugs. Bless his understanding heart, Charlie was only concerned about her welfare and told Brea to take as much time as she needed, that her job would be waiting when she wanted to come back.
Relived to her toes, she then plucked the card Detective Estes had given her and called the station. She checked in with the desk sergeant and supplied him with Barbara’s address and phone number, then stepped out onto the deck with Ozzie. The beast ran around chasing an occasional brave squirrel who dared to scurry over the thick green grass. She opened the book and began reading the story she’d started before passing out last night. Barbara’s story collection leaned a little more to the kinky and erotic side than Brea would have ever suspected. She was sailing into chapter three when sweat began to roll down her brow. Either the scorching sex scene she was reading or the heat was getting to Brea, probably a combination of both. She needed to cool down.
“And you thought last night was rough. You keep reading this shit and you’re going to need to buy new sheets.” Brea tossed the book aside and stood.
As she unwound the garden hose and turned it on, Ozzie raced toward her. Dancing around, he bit at the water. Brea laughed at the dog’s zany antics as she supplied drinks to the foliage and one crazy, lovable mutt.
By the time she was through, both she and Ozzie were soaking wet. Brea put the hose away before woman and dog lay on the deck letting both clothes and fur dry in the afternoon sun. Closing her eyes, Brea let out a happy sigh. She hadn’t been this stress-free in years. The rest of the day, she did absolutely nothing and it felt good for a change.
When the ten o’clock news was over, Brea climbed the stairs and tossed on her pajamas, a short, nearly threadbare T-shirt. The thing was practically see-through and didn’t quite cover her ass, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t like anyone but Ozzie was going to see her tonight. She washed her face and brushed her teeth and was about to head downstairs when she passed the mirror in her room. A giggle bubbled off her lips. Homeless stripper came to mind what with her red lace thong peeking out from beneath the tattered hem of her shirt.
“Good grief. If there were ever a Bag Ladies of Hustler, I could be a centerfold,” she said with a snort at her own reflection.
Back in the family room, Brea pulled the curtains and locked the doors before settling in on the couch. Scrolling through television stations with Ozzie curled by her side, she paused at the Food Network. The yellow-haired host observed a chef preparing grilled Tuscan garlic chicken that made her mouth water. She was about to get up and raid the pantry when her cell phone buzzed on the coffee table. Peering at the caller ID, she scowled.
“Give it a rest, Weed. I’ve said everything I want to you.”
She issued a heavy sigh and ignored the call. Ozzie raised his head and gave her a look akin to sympathy.
“Just how smart are you?” she asked the dog.
He answered with a yawn, exposing his sharp, scary teeth before bounding off the couch and scurrying to the back door.
“All right, buddy,” she chuckled as she headed his way. “I know dog code for let me out or I’ll pee all over the floor when I see it.”
Unlocking the door, she pushed it open as she flipped on the porch light. Ozzie sprang off the deck like he’d been shot out of a cannon. Rocketing across the lawn, he was in hot pursuit of a terrified rabbit, zigzagging maniacally across the yard. Brea’s heart lurched to her throat as visions of Ozzie eviscerating poor little Thumper exploded in her brain.
Without thinking of her tacky attire, she raced off the porch after the dog.
“Leave it!” she scolded.
But the obstinate mutt ignored her. Chasing after the single-minded mutt, Brea waved her arms, screaming at him like a lunatic. She’d nearly cornered him twice, but Ozzie evaded her as he continued barking and trailing the nimble, frightened bunny.
“I said leave it, you bloodthirsty brute!”
The rabbit escaped through a gap under the fence as the door to the house slammed shut behind her. She slid to a halt in the grass, a wave of dread pouring through her. Turning, she sprinted up the stairs and gripped the doorknob. It was locked.
“Son of a bitch!”
After studying the campers’ activity schedule for the next day, Sawyer sat on the patio in his backyard, nursing a beer. Gazing up at the stars, twinkling like diamonds in the inky night sky, he wondered if Brea were looking at them, too.
“Damn, fucker, anyone finds out you’re waxing poetic about stars and shit, they’ll think you got your neutered at Troy’s Animal Hospital.”
Even the thought of total humiliation couldn’t keep him from thinking about the sultry vixen. She’d invaded his thoughts more often than not during the day, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way the wind had tousled her dark hair that morning. Fuck. He knew exactly how she’d look after a night pounding her pussy raw. Just the thought turned his cock harder than a sledgehammer ready to bust up concrete all the way to the ranch.
Taking a long pull on the bottle, Sawyer tortured himself even more with visions of her plump lips wrapped around his shaft. They warred with the feel of her shapely legs locked at the ankle, behind his neck. His cock stirred once more as the light on his neighbor’s back porch flipped on, partially spilling into his own yard.
Sawyer looked up expecting to see Barbara and Ozzie, but instead, he watched Brea race off the deck. Sawyer nearly dropped his beer when he took in the sight of her barely covered body glowing in the floodlights. His rousting cock stretched rigid and ready, instantly slamming against his zipper.
Rising to his feet, Sawyer drank in the sight of her milky, smooth ass cheeks jiggling as the curvy nymph chased after the dog, screaming like a mad woman. A slash of red between her legs had his mouth pooling with saliva. Swallowing tightly, he then pinched his lips together to keep from laughing at the comical sight, as all hell broke loose beyond the fence. After the chaos calmed, Brea sprinted back to the deck and wiggled the door handle before cursing.
Sawyer had finally found his damsel in distress.
“First day on the job, and I’m locked out,” Brea spat. “Priceless. This is just piss-assed priceless.”
Ozzie loped up beside her, panting and wagging his stubby tail while Sawyer sank back a bit farther in the darkness, grinning like a moron.
“You should be ashamed of yourself, running after a poor defenseless rabbit. Now look what you’ve done! We’re locked out now because of you…you big goofy bastard.”
Ozzie responded with a loud, taunting bark.
Sawyer slipped a hand to his pocket and fingered his keys, particularly the rubber-tipped house key Barbara had given him eons ago.
“Rule number one, never ever sniff my crotch. Rule number two, don’t chase rabbits.” She wagged her finger in his face. “Got it?”
Once again, the dog barked, and Sawyer could have sworn the playful pooch was grinning. When Brea darted a glance toward his house, he froze like a statue.
“Just my luck, there’s not one light on over at old man Grayson’s house. The dusty, fossilized fart probably passed out after the six o’clock news and is sawing lo
gs in his recliner.”
Old man? Dusty, fossilized fart? Sawyer wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted or laugh at her inaccurate assumption.
Brea continued talking to Ozzie as if he were human. “I’d go over and see if he has a spare key, but not dressed like this. What if the decrepit dude has a bad heart? I might make him stroke out or something.”
You’d make me do something, all right, darlin’, but the only stroking I’ll be doing is with my tongue…up and down that pretty red-lace-covered cunt of yours.
Sawyer’s erection grew impossibly harder.
Brea darted another furtive glace his way before releasing a heavy sigh. She looked down at the dog and pouted. “All right, you little troublemaker. Let’s hope I can find a window that’s unlocked, or I’ll be replacing some glass in the morning.”
Sawyer remained in the shadows as Brea tugged on several window frames. The time had come to lend his fantasy girl a hand…or rather a key. He stepped off his deck and moved silently between the two houses. When he unlatched the gate, Brea cried out, “Score!”
By the time Sawyer had rounded the corner, he saw her trying to launch herself through a partially opened dining room window. Ozzie came barreling toward him, tongue hanging out and tail wagging frantically. Sawyer scratched the dog behind his pointed ears as Brea slid back to the ground with a hiss.
“Shit! That stings,” she hissed, pressing a hand to her chest.
Peeling up her shirt, she peered down at the red welts that marred her ivory flesh. He wanted to call out to her but couldn’t; he was too busy trying to keep from swallowing his tongue at the sight of her luscious breasts.
Undaunted by her failed first attempt, Brea gripped the base of the window frame once more. Pushing off with her legs, she launched herself forward, like a rocket. Well, partially, anyway. Suspended, half in and half out of the window, she teetered on the casement.
He rushed toward her. Those smooth, lily-white ass cheeks glowing in the moonlight called to him like the beacon of a lighthouse calls to a lost sailor. He was lost, all right, lost in lust. His cock expanded even more, and Sawyer knew there was no hope; his dick would wear the imprint of his zipper until he was ninety. He raised his hands, and his palms itched to grip and squeeze her supple orbs that lay out before him. As he clenched his teeth to keep from biting the ribbon of lace wedged in the crack of her ass, his nostrils flared. He could smell the rich, pungent scent of her pussy. Every muscle in his body tightened.
