Scarlet Fever

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by Sable Hunter


  “I paid six hundred thousand dollars for that mobile home. How much more do you think I would pay to save your life? There wasn’t even a question about it. I would give everything I own for a chance to have an extra day with you, much less a lifetime.” She threw her arms around him and held him close.

  Scarlet Rose was going to live.

  * * * *

  When Alex woke up from the surgery, his first thought was of his wife. “Ethan?”

  Ethan and Annalise had postponed their honeymoon. Staying with his brother and her sister while they went through major surgery was much more important. Annalise had been flabbergasted to find out that Scarlet had lived all those years with the threat of death hanging over her head.

  “I’m here, buddy.”

  “Scarlet?”

  “She came through with flying colors. Annalise is with her.”

  “I want to go to her.”

  “Not yet, it’ll be a few days before they let you get out of this bed.”

  “Roll me in there. Roll the whole damn bed.”

  “Do you want to get us into all sorts of trouble?”

  “Ethan, take me to Scarlet. Now.”

  “Bobby, I’m going to need some help here.” It was a sight to behold. The oldest and the youngest Stewarts rolling a hospital bed down the corridor that contained their bigger, totally determined brother.

  “Good grief.” Annalise laughed when she opened the door to the private room that her sister occupied.

  “They might as well make room in here for him, he’s not going to put up with being away from her even for a minute.” Ethan huffed as he maneuvered the hospital bed through the door. Bobby worked, shifting Scarlet’s bed and her monitoring equipment over to allow the additional bed to be placed side by side.

  “Be careful with her,” Alex cautioned. No one argued with him. They just did as he said. “Is she awake?”

  “No,” Annalise went over and took her brother in law’s hand. “She woke up for just a few seconds a while ago, but she dropped right back off. Alex, I want to thank you. For everything. For saving my sister’s life and for loving her enough to do it.”

  “I adore her, Annalise. I would die for her, daily. This was no hardship at all. Did she say anything?” Alex strained to see Scarlet’s face.

  “Your name, and she asked how you were.”

  “That’s my baby. Move the beds closer together. I want to hold her hand.” They pushed and pulled until the beds were close enough that Alex could reach over and clasp Scarlet’s hand. When he did, she opened her eyes.

  “Alex?”

  “I’m here, love. How do you feel?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  “You.”

  “You’ve got me love, for the rest of your life, you’ve got me.”

  EPILOGUE

  When Alex pulled the RV into the camping area at Graceland, he looked over at the sparkling eyes of his beloved wife. “We’re here, baby. Memphis, Tennessee. Home of the King of Rock and Roll.”

  “Thank you, Alex. I know this isn’t most men’s idea of a honeymoon destination.”

  “Sweetheart, as long as I have you, and that King Size bed in the back, I don’t care where we go.”

  Philip Alexander Stewart had a terminal case of Scarlet Fever and he had no intention of looking for a cure.

  Now for a glimpse into Book 3 –

  BOBBY DOES DALLAS

  - - join me…

  Chapter One

  “Next up is Bobby Stewart,” the announcer’s voice came booming over the loud speaker. The raucous rodeo crowd immediately grew silent. Most of them had come just to see this particular cowboy ride. He was a favorite on the circuit. “Stewart’s in first place, ladies and gentleman. This young man is a senior at the University of Texas where he plays football for the Longhorns. Bobby is a big man to be a bull rider. At six-foot-four inches and two-hundred-fifty pounds, Bobby makes the bulls work for their living.”

  The women in the audience were on their feet, all of them wanted to catch a glimpse of the handsome cowboy. The unseen man in the booth continued his introduction of Bobby's ride. “We’ve got a record crowd tonight, folks. Everyone is eager to see if young Stewart can be the rider to master the brutal Rock Star. No cowboy has managed to successfully stay on this monster bull for the full eight seconds. He's put seven men in the hospital, the rest of them on their keister. Rock Star hasn't been conquered in eight years.”

  Bobby sat on the hulking, gray Brahman bull listening to the broadcaster build up the crowd's interest in his ride. Everyone knew this was for big money. Many people wanted him to succeed and there were a few that would love to watch him fall flat on his ass. He, for one, voted for coming out of this alive. Squeezing his legs around the heaving sides of the bull, he knew that the moment the chute opened, the angry animal would become a tornado of deadly hooves and horns.

  The crowd was holding their breath. Bobby did his normal ritual, whispering the familiar scripture from memory. “Fear not, for I am with you, be not dismayed, for I am your God, I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” As the last word left his lips, the chute opened and Bobby's world went into overdrive. Rock Star was two thousand pounds of explosive energy. With vicious, violent twists the huge bull launched himself into the air and slung his entire body weight first to the left and then to the right. Bobby instinctively moved with the bull, knowing that the only way he would stay on this perfect storm would be if he didn’t fight the formidable force of nature. Letting his mind become perfectly still, Bobby became an extension of the bull’s body. He didn't fight the pitch and roll of the vicious animal, but anticipated the direction that Rock Star would lunge and went with it. It was wild—eight seconds of soul-jarring, body-wrenching, mind-blowing adrenaline rush. One of the reasons that he did this death-defying, dangerous sport was simple. After riding a demon like Rock Star, Big 12 football was a cakewalk.

  No matter what anyone said, eight seconds was an eternity. Eight seconds could mean the difference between a winning ride or a harsh collision with the hard ground of the arena. For some, eight seconds could be the difference between life and death. A good friend of Bobby’s had been stomped to death by a bull in July. Tonight, he rode for Shaun.

  When the loud air horn sounded, Bobby could hear the screams of the fans. Not one who chose to wear a helmet, he waved his trade-mark black Stetson in the air. Mixed in with the roar of the crowd, he could hear the squeals of the buckle bunnies. As he bailed off Rock Star and dodged the razor sharp set of horns that swiped out at him, he thanked the good Lord for the bull fighters that put their lives on the line distracting the enraged beast.

  As Rock Star danced off to one side, Bobby jumped up on the fence and shook hands, receiving numerous pats on the back from a dozen other riders who knew the true value of his accomplishment. It wasn’t just a big pay-off, it was the matter of conquering your demons—being able to cowboy up and do what very few men could do, face his fear and live his dream.

  A cloud of loud perfume announced that he was about to be awarded a whole different kind of prize. “Hey there, cowboy!” Mary Alice Solice threw her arms around his neck and plastered her ample breasts to his chest. “It’s my turn to take a ride. Are you up for it?” She boldly rubbed his crotch with her flat little belly getting exactly the kind of reaction she craved. Bobby hardened instantly. After all, he was twenty-two years old. He could get an erection at the drop of a hat, not to mention the aggressive groping of a former Miss Texas who had no qualms about going after exactly what she wanted. And right now, Mary Alice wanted Bobby Stewart.

  “I’m always up for it, Miss Mary,” Bobby drawled as he threw an arm around the cute little doll with tight jeans, big tits and sex on her mind. “Just exactly where would you like to go to take this ride?” He was teasing her, he knew exactly what she wanted.

  Running her hand into the tight back pocket of h
is jeans, she pinched his ass. “I’m not interested in going anywhere, Cowboy. You know what I want. I want to cum…over and over again," she whispered as she nipped him on the shoulder. Mary Alice was a wild cat. It didn't take much to set Bobby off. He was a young, healthy male with an unrivaled sexual appetite. Bobby Stewart had a reputation on the circuit and on campus. All of the ladies knew that he could be relied upon to provide sexual satisfaction on a grand scale.

  The rodeo had been held in Mesquite, Texas—about three hours north of Austin and about four and half hours from the Bed and Breakfast resort that he owned with his brothers. To prevent driving back in the wee hours, Bobby had rented a hotel room at the nearest Holiday Inn Express. Mary Alice faithfully followed the rodeo circuit, but she was a local and had an apartment a few minutes from the exhibition hall and, like most women, preferred to have sex in her own bed. That suited Bobby, he liked to get his business taken care of and be able to leave when he got ready. Cum and Run. He knew it wasn't very romantic, but this hook-up wasn't about romance—it was about pleasure. And Bobby Stewart was a master at giving pleasure.

  After a minimum amount of discussion, Bobby followed Mary Alice to her apartment and in a few minutes she had him right where she wanted him—naked and in her bed. "That's it baby, let me at him." She pushed him back on the bed and knelt between his legs. "God, I love to kiss your cock." Without preamble, she fitted her hungry lips over the large mushroom head and began to suck voraciously. Mary Alice was good at giving head. In a few seconds, she had Bobby's hips lifting rhythmically off the bed, seeking to push further into the hot recesses of her throat.

  "That's good, Mary, so good," he praised her. Bobby would have been just as happy to shoot his load in her mouth, but Mary Alice had other ideas. Her pussy was hungry for cock and Bobby had a big one. She took him to the edge of climax, but pulled back just before he reached the point of no return.

  "My turn," she sat up, big breasts heaving. Turning over, she presented her cute little ass for his delectation. "Ride me, cowboy." With an inviting wiggle, she didn't have to ask twice. Bobby rose up, sheathed himself with a condom, and mounted her from the rear. If there had been a mirror, he would have thrown up his arm in the typical rodeo rider pose—the girl's loved that image. But, there wasn't, so he set to pumping and thrusting until he had her moaning with ecstasy. Oh it was good, and Bobby was grateful, but Mary Alice's response was so staged. She moaned and carried on as if she was starring in a porn flick.

  Bobby didn't doubt that he was making her feel good, but he almost felt like he was watching their sexual antics from a distance. There was no emotion, there was no feeling—it was just sex. Crap! At that unexpected thought, Bobby almost lost his erection. He had to fight to stay focused and finish out the erotic romp. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine a different scenario. Instead of the woman he was pleasuring, the girl was sweet and un-jaded. His dream girl was so excited to be with him that she trembled with delight at his touch. Her moans of pleasure would be unrehearsed and honest, she would be his for the long haul, not just for a few moments of fleeting passion.

  Bobby held Mary Alice's stingy, white hips and rammed his turgid rod deep into her clutching pussy. Once—twice—three times was the charm. She screamed and he yelled, and he had to fight every instinct he had to keep from grabbing his gear and high-tailing it out of her apartment as naked as a jaybird.

  "That was incredible, Bobby." Mary Alice fell to one side, completely sated and satisfied. "I'm glad I ran into you today. You know how to make a girl feel good."

  "Happy to oblige, ma’am," Pulling on his clothes, all Bobby wanted to do was get home and see his brothers. Maybe, he wouldn’t linger in Mesquite till morning. Ethan and Alex were waiting on him. He had promised he would help them paint. Their Bed and Breakfast was nestled in the beautiful hill country near the Lost Maples State Park south of Austin. "Look Mary Alice, I had a good time, sweetie, but I gotta run." It was a damn shame when painting a house was more appealing than after-sex snuggling.

  "Sure, babe, no problem." Bobby was sure that if Mary Alice were a smoker, she would be puffing away by now. "We'll hook up again, sometime. I'll keep an eye out for you."

  Not if I see you first, Bobby thought, then immediately regretted it. It wasn't like him to be ugly. After all, Mary Alice had done just exactly what he had wanted and expected. The only thing different in this equation was him.

  Maybe it was time for a change. Bobby Stewart smiled as he let himself out of the cookie cutter apartment. Everything was beginning to look the same to him—the scenery, the women. Hell, maybe he was growing up. Snorting at the thought, he climbed into his pick-up and headed south.

  * * * *

  "Do you know how humiliating it is when your husband won't make love to you?" Cecile asked in a desperate whisper.

  Annalise almost ran her car off the road. "What do you mean he won't make love to you?"

  Cecile looked out the window. She should never have brought it up. It was just too embarrassing. Carl had been her husband for seven years and he hadn't touched her for the last three—except when he had to, or if someone else happened to be watching. Glancing back over at her best friend and client, she found Annalise nailing her with a stare, demanding an answer. "Watch the road, Lise. Or they'll find two sex starved females in a crumpled up Jag."

  "Hey! Not fair!" Annalise Ramsey protested. "You know my situation. I've had my one great love affair. There's no one else for me, but Ethan. Since I can't have him, I'm not in the market for another lover." Annalise shifted in the car seat. “You know I have issues. The rape changed everything for me. Even if I were able to get back together with Ethan, there is no way he would ever be able to make love with me again. I just can’t stand the thought of his rejection. I’m too ashamed.”

  Cecile listened, sympathetically. She knew part of Annalise's story, but not all of it. It wasn't something that Annalise enjoyed talking about.

  “Besides, we're talking about you, Cecile—not me. Now, explain yourself, please. Carl comes across as such a stud. When the two of you are out in public together, he can't keep his hands off of you.” Annalise looked at Cecile. “You’re beautiful. Never in a million years would I have suspected your marriage was a sham. You, my editor and agent, exude sexuality. After all, that's what you do for a living.”

  “Don’t remind me. I wish I could live up to the hype of my job. Face it, I’m a phony.” Cecile represented the biggest publisher of erotic romances in North America. Her whole career was built around sex. Lying back against the car seat, she thought how nice it would be to just drift off to sleep and ignore the curious glances of her dear traveling companion. The quiet engine of the Jaguar was no competition for her racing thoughts. Fine. She'd confess. After all, she really did need someone to talk to. "How Carl treats me when we are around others is all for show. At home, he avoids me like the plague." When Annalise gave her a bug-eyed stare, Cecile laughed. "It’s true. Our sex life has never been what it should be.” Letting down the passenger side mirror, Cecile played like she was checking her mascara. What she was actually doing was avoiding Annalise’s sharp gaze. “It's all my fault, or at least that's what Carl says. I'm not woman enough for my husband. He says that I’m unexciting and getting old fast."

  "That's totally ridiculous.” Annalise fumed. “You're absolutely beautiful." Annalise looked at her friend. “You’re adorable. I don’t know how old you are, and I don’t care. You could easily pass for a college coed.” Her friend whacked the steering wheel and then winced at the pain. “That makes me so mad! Your husband should have his wiener cut off and flown on a flagpole. Why, just look at you! I love your hair. It’s a beautiful color of dark brown. I wish mine was as pretty.” Before Cecile knew what was happening, Annalise had reached over and picked up a strand of her hair. “With your shoulder length cut and that mass of soft curls, it just begs for a man to run his fingers through it.” When Cecile rolled her eyes at her friend, she moved on to a different
facial characteristic. “And your eyes are big and the color of vibrant emeralds. I would literally kill for your eyelashes. They’re so dark it makes your eyes look like jewels lying on black velvet. I'm sitting over here totally jealous of how you look. Your body, your face, your hair—it's all perfect. Is the man blind or gay?"

  Letting out an exasperated giggle, Cecile stated flatly. "Neither, but you sound like a frustrated lesbian.” When Annalise swatted at her, she dodged. “Sorry. I know you’re straight, don’t get your panties in a wad. To hear Carl tell it, the only problem he has is me. He says I just don't do it for him. The last time we tried to have sex, he couldn't get hard enough to penetrate me."

  "Bullshit! There has to be something wrong with him." They were heading back to East Texas from a writer's convention in Houston. Stopping at a red light, Annalise aimed the air vent at Cecile. "You're all red, let me cool you off."

  "I'm red because I'm mortified to be telling you all of this," Cecile squeaked through clenched teeth. After another pregnant pause she started talking fast, as if she were on a game show with only a certain amount of time allowed to give an answer. "The sex between us has never been good. Even though Carl…is…uh…built small down there, it has always hurt. I've never had an orgasm during sex with him. He won't go down on me, although he used to demand that I give him blow jobs. For years, he has told me that I'm frigid, but since I've been reading and editing these books, I know that's not true. I get hot and bothered all the time from the explicit sex that you write."

  Annalise didn't say anything, she looked totally flabbergasted. She kept moving her mouth, as if she was going to start a sentence and then she would stop. Finally, she huffed out a little breath of defiance. "You deserve a better life than you have with him, Cecile. Do you love him?"

  What a simple question. It was so simple, that it stunned Cecile for a few moments. It was as if a haze had been lifted and she was able to see the horizon clearly for the first time in a long, long while. "Well, I don't know." Undoing the seatbelt, she turned in the seat looking at Annalise head on. “No, I don’t love him. I can’t even remember what loving him felt like.” She completely ignored the ding-ding-ding of the seat belt alarm.

 

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