Scarlet Fever

by Sable Hunter

  From his conversation, she gathered he was talking to his boss. Carl was a very successful pharmaceutical salesman, a glorified pill peddler was what her mother had called him. She went and took his place by the window, waiting for the phone call to end. If she wasn’t so nervous about what was about to happen with Carl, she would already have been on the phone with Annalise. She had huge news for her friend, but she couldn’t decide exactly how to tell her. Cecile decided she would have to be sneaky.

  When she had driven up to check in, the first thing she had noticed was the Welcome Sign. It had read—Proprietors - Mr. And Mrs. Ethan Stewart. Cecile was jaw-dropping shocked. She knew that name. Ethan Stewart. Could he be Annalise’s Ethan? If it was and he was married, she would never breathe a word to Annalise. But, something told her to have a little faith. When she had entered the lobby, there was no doubt in her mind. The man was incredibly good looking—both of them. One was a golden god, and the other was the model for fifteen erotic novels that she had edited for Annalise. To satisfy her curiosity, she had asked to speak to his wife. Cecile told Ethan she wanted to compliment her on the landscaping. The devastatingly, handsome man had gotten a serious look on his face and simply said to her, there is no Mrs. Ethan Stewart, which was the best news Cecile had heard in a long time. Maybe, Annalise’s dreams were finally about to come true, that is if she could think of a way to convince her friend to visit one picturesque Bed and Breakfast in the Texas Hill Country.

  She jumped when Carl snapped his phone closed. Waiting, she held her breath, wondering if he would take the initiative and come to her. It must be obvious by the way she was dressed what she had on her mind. Counting to ten, she stood there like a dunce. Nothing. Very well. She’d be the brave one, or the foolish one, the distinction would be made clear in a moment. Turning, she met Carl’s eyes. They were a beautiful shade of gray, she had always thought they were the color of a dove’s wing. He wasn’t smiling. There was a sad set to his mouth. She couldn’t read his expression. “Carl, I appreciate you agreeing to meet me here.” Walking slowly toward him, she smoothed her palms down her thighs, nervously.

  “I have to go on to Houston tomorrow, it is easier than driving back to Dallas.”

  His words stabbed her. What would it be like to have a husband who rushed home to her because he couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms? Get a grip, she cautioned herself. She was on a mission. “I’m glad we could have this time together.” Walking right up to him, she stood there hoping he would touch her. His muscles tensed up, but he kept his hands to himself. Going for broke, she fell to her knees and tugged on his pajama bottoms. There was no resistance. Maybe, he was too shocked to stop her. He wore a pair of dark green boxer briefs, and it she wasn’t mistaken there was movement under them. Taking that small sign as encouragement, she tugged down his underwear to reveal his penis.

  Even though she worked with erotic romance, Cecile was not experienced. Carl was the only lover she had ever had. She knew his manhood was average or a little smaller, but if he would have given her half a chance, she would have cherished him and any attention he would give her. She made herself think of a dog that she had once seen. The dog had been tied to a tree and had a small house to get in out of the weather. Every day she walked around in a circle on her short chain and the people who had once petted her as a pup, now walked by her without speaking. That dog would jump up and down in greeting, wag her tail, begging for attention, but no one ever stopped to give her any affection at all. She had felt sorry for the dog. Cecile felt like that animal must have felt. She craved affection, but for the most part, she was ignored.

  Time seemed to be dragging—this was so important. She didn’t know if Carl realized exactly what was happening, but this was a test—big time—for Cecile. With trembling fingers, she picked up his semi-erect cock. She heard him hiss, interpreting that as excitement, she took him into her mouth and began to massage the shaft with her lips and tongue. Cecile felt a small quiver of excitement. With one hand, she caressed his thigh and with the other she picked up his scrotal sac and rubbed his balls tenderly. She was so intent on her seductive endeavors that she did not notice her tender ministrations were not producing any sort of response. Carl gripped her shoulder. At first, she thought he was going to pull her close, caress her, or encourage her. Instead, he tightened his grip until it was painful. Letting out a gasp, she halted all contact with her hands and her mouth.

  “Stop, Cecile!”

  Cecile grew very still. Bowing her head, she fought her emotions. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Carl stepped back from her. He huffed out a breath and pulled up his underwear. “I’m sorry, Cecile. It’s not going to happen. You just don’t do it for me. I’m sorry, but I’m not attracted to you.”

  Stumbling to her feet, Cecile raised a tear streaked face to her husband of seven years, the only man who had ever touched her body. "I can’t do this anymore, Carl. There's no use for us to put off the inevitable any longer. I’m sorry that I’ve been such a disappointment to you. I will be glad to give you a divorce.”

  ***

  Throwing her suitcase in the back of her Lexus, she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her blouse and turned over a new leaf. Swearing that this was for the best, Cecile prayed she wouldn’t throw up until she got out of sight of the B&B. If the owner was indeed Ethan, she hoped to one day be coming back here for Annalise’s wedding. She’d hate for them to retain a memory of some dorky woman upchucking in their front yard.

  Wrenching open the door of her car, she stepped in. Just as she shut the door, rain began to fall in thick sheets. Carl hadn’t disputed her offer of a divorce, so she had dressed and left the room as quickly as possible. Cecile had no idea if he would return to their home or not. For the time being, that was where she was going, simply because she had no place else to go.

  Again, she wondered if Carl had a lover. Or could he be gay? Shaking her head, she tried to clear her mind. Did it really matter? Either way, he didn’t want her. Covering her mouth, she stifled a sob. Her husband didn’t want her. Although, this wasn’t new information, it still hurt like hell. She had made one last ditch effort to make him love her and it had failed. Why didn’t really matter.

  Driving down Lonely Street, she left Lost Maples and her marriage behind. Cecile made plans in her head. She would let Carl have the apartment and she would find a new place to live—maybe a quaint little house in an older neighborhood, maybe uptown or Victory Park. She would have to change her mail, and her phone number. God, she had so much to do. There were phone calls to make, like the lawyer and Annalise. Lord, she needed to talk to Annalise. Now, wasn’t the time to tell her about Ethan, but she did need to tell her that the divorce was on. Watching the road, she used her car phone located on the steering wheel to speed-dial her friend in East Texas. A faint buzzing sound alerted her that there was no cell service in the area. Belatedly, she realized how far back in the sticks she was. Turning off the phone menu, she tried to concentrate on the road. It was narrow and curvy and in the dark, it all looked alike. Pity she wouldn’t be staying longer at Lost Maples—it was a beautiful place.

  Narrowing her eyes, she tried to determine what she was seeing. It was some type of reflection. It was eyes! With a squeal, she realized that a little dog was standing directly in the road ahead of her. Applying her brakes, she threw her whole weight into trying to stop the car without throwing herself into a tail spin on the wet pavement. She managed to stop, but the backend of the car swerved, nearly making her scream with fright. Pulling off the road, she jumped out to make sure the little dog was okay. It was a dachshund, her favorite breed. “Come here, fella. I won’t hurt you.” She called to the little dog who scampered away. Cecile took chase, knowing that as fat as the little dog seemed to be, he was, undoubtedly, somebody’s precious baby. She didn’t want to think of him smashed in the road come morning.

  Carefully, she ran down the highway after the dog. Her shoes were slick on the bottom, so sh
e tried to watch her step. In such a hurry to get away from Carl, she had thrown on a pair of jeans and a thin white blouse. Running through the downpour, she was completely soaked. “Wait, puppy! Wait!” Rounding a curve, Cecile realized that she wasn't alone out on the dark, lonely road. She had run right up on a pickup that had slid off into the ditch. The top was up over the engine and a man stood looking over the side, working on Lord knows what. She wasn’t up on the mechanical inner workings of a car.

  Seeing the man, the little dog headed straight for him. Apparently, he seemed to be less of a threat than she was. Cecile slowed to a stop. She never considered that the man might be dangerous. Today had been such an ordeal for her that the thought of facing anyone other than Carl seemed easy. “Excuse me, sir. Is this your puppy?” Cecile scooped the little dog up, afraid that another car could come upon them at any time.

  * * * *

  Bobby heard a voice. The rain was coming down so hard, at first he thought it was his imagination. His truck was held together with baling wire and good intentions, and now he had gone and skidded into a damn guard rail. But, that voice…it was soft and husky and decidedly feminine. Immediately, his cock rose to the occasion. Straightening, he couldn’t wait to see the face that belonged to such a sexy voice. There was a halogen lantern hanging from the top of his hood, and he was momentarily blinded. Staring into the darkness, he waited for his eyes to adjust. Recognizing the tail-tale whimper, he crooned to the animal. “Mojo! Baby, how did you get out of the truck? Don’t you know we couldn’t do without you?”

  “Good, I’m glad he’s yours. I didn’t want to leave him on the road.” The woman stepped sideways trying to get out of the glare.

  “Hello, angel.”

  Bobby Does Dallas

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  Before you get to know a little about Sable Hunter and see her full list of books, please enjoy a taste of her other series!

  A Scene from…

  COWBOY HEAT

  (Hell Yeah!)

  Six brothers. One Dynasty—

  TEBOW RANCH

  Meet the McCoy brothers and their friends —Texas

  men who love as hard as they play.

  Texas Cowboys and Hot Cajuns – nothing better.

  He would be walking into the dining room at any moment. Steady. Steady. Libby cautioned herself to remain calm. The meal had turned out better than she’d anticipated. She had decided to prepare one of her specialties: rich lasagna made with Italian sausage, flavorful buffalo mozzarella and a homemade marinara sauce that would knock your socks off. It tasted as good as it smelled. She had sampled a little corner of the finished, gargantuan casserole. Libby loved to cook, but feeding six large males would be a challenge. She would have to tweak all of her recipes to make sure she made enough for everybody to have seconds, as well as leftovers for midnight snacks.

  As each brother came in, she had met him with a smile and a huge glass of sweet iced tea, the elixir of choice in the south. Of course, she knew Jacob. He had been President of the Junior Service Club as a teenager and he had single-handedly taken on her cause. Several times, he had headed up fundraisers and benefits to raise money for her treatments and untold medical bills. That was Jacob, a gorgeous hunk with a heart of gold. He was always involved in the community. Libby knew he coached a little league team and served on the disaster relief committee at the community center.

  The rest of the boys she knew by sight only. None of them had ever been formally introduced to her. Jacob did the honors. They didn’t have any memory of her at all. Libby wasn’t surprised, for most of her life she had felt invisible. There had been no dates, no proms, no slumber parties or gossip sessions.

  Cancer tended to make you an island. The only attention she had been used to receiving was during uncomfortable appearances at the charitable events held in her honor, or while enduring the poking and prodding of a bevy of medical students in a teaching hospital. When you didn’t have adequate insurance, the teaching hospital was where they usually sent you. Putting those sad thoughts out of her head, she focused on the rest of the McCoy family.

  Joseph was a doll, Libby noticed. He was very comfortable in his own skin, exuding a confidence that is rarely seen in a man under thirty. “Miss Libby, it’s a pleasure.” She felt her cheeks warm as he kissed her hand. Jacob had told her his brother was an extreme sports nut – a very successful one. He rock-climbed, raced dirt bikes, rode bulls and busted broncs. Libby knew that whatever Joseph did, it suited him well. His body was in tip-top condition.

  Isaac had walked in and picked her up, swung her around and then introduced himself. She had dissolved in a bout of giggles at his: “Finally! A woman in the kitchen that I can intimidate.” He had set her down and formally shook her hand. “Libby, don’t believe half of what you hear about me. I’m not as bad as they say I am.”

  “He’s worse,” Noah interjected as he accepted his icy beverage. “Isaac is our resident badass.” He had held Libby’s hand and turned her around slowly, as if she was standing on a lazy-susan. “Goodness, you are a little doll. If I wasn’t already in love with a tall willowy blonde…” he ended wistfully.

  “Harper Summers doesn’t know you’re alive.” Isaac quipped. Something that could have been hurt passed over Noah’s features. Jacob had told her that Noah was the practical one of the family. He had a good financial head on his shoulders; Tebow Properties had flourished under his care. While Aron managed the trust fund that their parents had left, Noah managed the day-to-day finances for the ranch. He was a heady combination - a Greek God physique, a handsome face and a beautiful mind. Libby decided she was in beefcake heaven.

  Nathan had helped her set the table. She was going to fall for Nathan, hard. He was thirteen, and although she was too young to be his mother, he rattled every maternal bone in her body. Libby knew that the likelihood of her ever having children was slim to none. So the chance to spoil this young man was going to be pure pleasure.

  The McCoy brothers surrounded her, teasing and playing, making her laugh at their jokes and smile at their antics. They were doing their dead level best to make her feel at home. From out of nowhere, a chill ran up her spine and her toes began to tingle. What in the world?

  Then she felt the heat.

  Aron. It had to be.

  Refusing to look around, lest she betray her fascination, Libby pretended immense interest in what Jacob was saying, even though she wasn’t comprehending a word.

  Aron McCoy walked into the dining room and his cock went stiff as a board. When he saw the dainty little doll standing there in the midst of his rambunctious family, he felt like someone had whacked him upside the head with a 2 x 4. As his gaze hungrily moved up and down her exquisite curves, his blood pressure shot up like a rocket and a sudden burst of heat rushed through his body.

  Lord Have Mercy!

  Aron almost forgot where he was. He had been lured by the incredible smell of Italian food and the warm, enticing scent of garlic bread. His stomach was doing cartwheels, begging to be introduced to the dishes responsible for wafting those delicious aromas. When he stepped into the dining room, however, all thoughts of food went sailing out the window.

  Lord Have Mercy!

  She was breathtaking.

  He didn’t know where to look first, or where to look longest. Tight jeans encased a sweet, heart-shaped little butt that made him want to bare his teeth. Her legs were long and all he could think about was what they would feel like clasped around his hips. A form-fitting, red T-shirt proclaimed that she was “Raw Honey – Sweet as Sugar, Twice as Addictive”. The implications of those words practically had him bowing at her feet. He bet her cream would taste like raw, wild honey. His fingers itched to see if he could make them meet around that trim little waist. When his eyes roved northward, tears almost came to his eyes. She bounced a little bounce in response to something funny that Jacob had said, and when she did, he wanted to st
ep forward and catch those sweet little tits before she hurt herself. Maybe, he ought to change his job description – he could go from being a simple cowpoke to a full-time, full-service breast support man. By their jiggle and wave, there was no doubt in his mind that those tits were real and in dire need of about an hour of attention from his hands and tongue.

  Realizing he was about to embarrass himself, he took off his Stetson and held it below his belt buckle, effectively hiding her unexpected and tremendous impact on his libido. His smooth move did not go unnoticed by Noah, who smirked from across the room. Casually, Aron shot him the finger. Asshole. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had affected him this way, if ever. Watching his brothers surround the tempting little morsel, Aron opted to utilize a tactic which had come in handy when the McCoy’s would be out carousing pre-Sabrina. They had tried to avoid stepping on one another’s toes, romantically speaking. Whenever one would see a little filly who caught his eye, he would look at her and simply say one word that would alert the others that she had been claimed and was strictly off-limits to the rest of the McCoys. Stepping closer to the table, he loudly proclaimed, “Tag!”

  As soon as the word had left Aron’s mouth, the younger men looked up at him in surprise. Isaac bit back a snort, and Jacob simply said, “Thank God.” Their brother had finally decided to come out of hiding.

  Libby wondered at the word Aron shouted. Was this some type of fire drill or a weird game they played? She could feel him looking at her, ‘God give me strength’, she prayed.

  Libby, as of yet, had not turned to face him fully. And he had to see her – now. “Turn around, Baby. Let me see your face.” Confused, Libby did as he requested. Slowly. Uncertainty made her hesitate, but when she had made a complete 180, she heard him catch his breath and she raised her eyes.