She gave him a tongue-thrusting kiss, then breezed through the door. Pausing on the sidewalk, she turned and waved at him. “Call me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Jim watched her get in her little yellow sports car and drive away. He had the hard-on from hell. His body wanted a woman in the worst way. Not Robyn Granger in particular, just a woman. Any woman.
He had left Thomasina weeping. The stupid cunt. She thought that by being compliant and meek, she could fool him. But he wasn’t fooled, not in the least. She didn’t love him the way he needed to be loved, the way he deserved to be loved. She was like all the others, nothing more than a beautiful whore who lied as easily as she breathed. She told him she loved him and begged him to make love to her, but she was as big a disappointment as Stephanie had been. And Jacque. And …
Why was he doomed to suffer, to believe he’d found true love, only to have his hopes dashed? But he wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t. He was more determined now than ever to find the perfect woman, his perfect mate.
He had found her once, years ago, his perfect girl.
Even now, her name was like music to his ears. Soft and sweet and beautiful. He had loved her, been obsessed with her, would have died for her. She had promised him her heart and her body.
No! Stop thinking about her. Don’t remember what happened. Remembering hurts too much. It will rip you apart all over again.
He had to forget the past and concentrate on the here and now. For her sake and his, he had to set Thomasina free. And he had to do it soon. In the beginning, he’d had such high hopes, such fabulous dreams of what it would be like for them. He had wanted her to be “the one.” Everything about her had seemed so right. She was young and pretty, with lustrous dark hair and a bewitching smile. And she was very popular. All the guys liked her, wanted her, dreamed of fucking her. But she didn’t want any of them. Not the way she wanted him. She’d been waiting for him, longing to be with him, had accepted all of his little gifts, each a special token of his affection.
She loved him.
But she didn’t love him enough to give him everything he needed. She tried, but she had failed over and over again. Maybe it wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t satisfy him, even though he satisfied her completely. He knew he did. She told him so. She liked all the things he did to her and always begged him for more.
Lies. All lies!
They had lied to him. Every single one of them. They had promised him everything, but never gave him enough. They’d always held something back.
But next time would be different. Wouldn’t it?
He parked, got out and locked his vehicle. She lived only a few blocks away, a quick and easy walk, especially if he went down the back alleys. At this time of morning when it was still dark outside, no one would see him. She didn’t have a security alarm, didn’t even have deadbolt locks. Getting inside her house should be easy. She would still be asleep. If he was very quiet and very careful, he could go inside, find her bedroom and watch her while she slept.
Maybe she sleeps in the raw.
His dick twitched.
As he hurried up the alley, he imagined what it would be like with her. She wouldn’t disappoint him. He felt sure that she would know how to please him in ways none of the others had. She had flirted with him, teased him, made him silent promises with those sultry looks she gave him.
You can watch her, but you can’t touch her. Not yet.
No, he wouldn’t touch her, wouldn’t begin their courtship until he ended things with Thomasina. He wasn’t the kind of man who betrayed one woman with another. With the others, he had known within a couple of weeks that their relationship wasn’t going to work out the way he had hoped. He and Thomasina had been lovers for nine days and already he knew he could never care for her the way he had his first love. And that’s what he wanted—to love and be loved with equal passion and devotion, to once again share what he had shared with her.
But she didn’t really love—
He hummed inside his mind, blotting out any negative thoughts about the past, shutting out the agony.
Just as he came up alongside the chain-link fence that ran the length of her property, separating her yard from the alley, he heard voices. Who was awake and outside at four-thirty in the morning? Stopping dead in his tracks, he looked and listened.
The shadows cast across her back porch, created by the blending of illumination from the moon overhead and the streetlight in front of her house, revealed the two dark silhouettes embracing.
She was giggling. He knew her laughter, recognized it instantly. But who was the man? It couldn’t be her husband. He was in the Middle East.
When he saw her kissing the man on her back porch, every muscle in his body tautened. She was his. How dare she give herself to another man!
But she’s lonely with her husband away. And she doesn’t know that you want her, that you can offer her a love that is true. A love that could be forever.
He crept out of the alley and into her neighbor’s backyard, being careful to keep hidden behind the trees and tall shrubbery.
“I wish you could stay,” she said, clinging to the man.
“You know I can’t. If anyone saw me …”
“I know. I know. But damn it, Ron, I’m sick and tired of sneaking around this way.”
Ron? She’d called the man Ron.
He moved in closer, as close as he could get to the fence separating her yard from her neighbors’ without revealing his presence.
Ron Hensley? Deputy Ron Hensley.
He should have known. That guy couldn’t keep his pants zipped. He’d screwed every willing woman in Adams County. He’d even been one of Thomasina’s lovers.
She kissed Ron again before he left her standing on the back porch. The country-bumpkin Lothario sneaked around the house and disappeared down the street. Ron had probably parked several streets up.
When she went back inside her house, he waited there for several minutes and watched in the darkness. He desperately wanted to go to her, to tell her that she didn’t have to waste her time on a guy like Ron Hensley. She was too good for that womanizing deputy, far too good. She deserved better.
“Soon, my darling Abby. Soon we’ll be together and you can show me how much you love me.”
Bernie stood in front of the mirror—naked. She was far from slender. Although not fat, she didn’t possess a lean, exercise-toned body. Her wide hips and big butt stubbornly held on to those extra ten pounds Bernie’s mother constantly reminded her she needed to lose. Well, actually, to be in fashion, she’d have to lose at least twenty-five pounds to achieve that waif-thin physique, have her C-cup breasts enlarged to double-D and undergo liposuction on her inner and outer thighs.
Her hair was okay, she supposed. Thick, shiny and shoulder length. But the color wasn’t anything special. Just a plain old medium brown. And her eyes were nondescript. Except for the gold flecks.
She studied her facial features. It was a pleasant face, her features all medium in size, working quite well together. Just a hint of her mother’s glamorous beauty softened a face that greatly resembled her father’s.
Bernie heaved a deep sigh, turned from the mirror and walked over to her closet. It wasn’t often that she took the time to scrutinize