Praise for the writing of Beth Williamson
The Perfect Score 1: One Night Stand
Ms. Williamson really captured my attention and held on tight with this awesome tale of love and cultural differences. Anyone who enjoys a good contemporary story should run out and buy this book as soon as possible.
-- Susan White, Coffee Time Romance
The pacing kept my attention and the characters were all very engaging. The Perfect Score: One Night Stand was an unexpected romantic delight that I will read again! I highly recommend it.
-- Patrice Storie, Just Erotic Romance Reviews
Beth Williamson has created a story readers will want to read many times over. One Night Stand contains realistic characters, squabbling teammates, a huge bowling tournament, and one sexy as sin determined man… The friendship and understanding between Babs, Veronica, and Marlene is a key factor in this story and I can't wait to see what happens with Veronica and Marlene .
-- Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies
Once again Ms. Williamson shows her talent as a writer that I can depend on to give me an entertaining read. I can’t wait for the next installment of this series!
-- Talia Ricci, Joyfully Reviewed
The Perfect Score 1: One Night Stand is now available from Loose Id.
THE PERFECT SCORE 3:
MARLENE’S MAN
Beth Williamson
www.loose-id.com
Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
* * * * *
This book contains explicit sexual content and graphic language.
The Perfect Score 3: Marlene’s Man
Beth Williamson
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by
Loose Id LLC
1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924
Carson City NV 89701-1215
www.loose-id.com
Copyright © September 2006 by Beth Williamson
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.
ISBN 978-1-59632-292-9
Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader
Printed in the United States of America
Editor: Lorri-Lynne Brown
Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter
www.loose-id.com
Chapter One
Marlene stood on the approach with her Scorpion bowling ball resting in the palm of her right hand, fingers snugly in the holes. Her left hand hovered next to the ball, not quite touching. She could feel the weight of it, knew it as well as her own skin. She took a breath, then puffed it out over the ball. The smell of mint gum tickled her nose.
She looked down and moved half a board over, then put her feet together. Her left heel came up as she readied herself to bowl. Her eyes stared hard at the third arrow from the right. That mark was a slippery sucker if she didn’t concentrate.
It was time.
Marlene made her approach as she had thousands of times before. Her arm swung back, then forward and she let the ball go in a perfect motion. It rolled down the lane, crossing the third arrow from the right, and curved gracefully to slam into the pocket. The pins scattered in a perfect sweep.
Strike.
She rose from her crouch and thrust her fist in the air with a “Yes!”
“You sure can bowl for a girl, Big Mac.”
Marlene closed her eyes and cursed quietly. Terry Adams, one of the few boys in high school she had allowed herself to have sex with. A mistake that had followed her for the last ten years. He was great looking at eighteen; at twenty-eight, he was growing bald and he had a slight paunch. He still was an asshole. That hadn’t changed.
Big Mac was a nickname that haunted Marlene McComb from the time some fool hung it on her in elementary school. She was big, had always been big, and would always be big. She hovered at a size eighteen, but had been higher. She did her damndest to stay at an eighteen and it wasn’t easy, even if she was tall enough at five foot eleven to carry more weight.
Marlene hated the name Big Mac so much that she had never even eaten at McDonald’s. In fact, every time she drove past it, she flipped off the golden arches. To still hear that nickname twenty years later was like someone sticking bamboo shoots under her fingernails.
“Go bother someone else.”
Terry leaned against the seat by the score computer, smirk in place. His blond hair was still long and wavy, even if it was thinning on top. His blue eyes were half-hooded and his arms crossed.
“Do you really think you’re going to get that three hundred game at the tournament?”
Marlene’s dream was to bowl a perfect game. A three hundred, twelve strikes in a row. She’d made ten in one game, but never that magic twelve in a row. The Perfect Score bowling tournament was starting in two days at the Starlite Lanes in the tiny Texas town of Espejo. A gold star on a denim purse, but the owner Jesse did his damnedest to gussie the place up. Replaced lots of equipment, hired a company to put a spit and shine on the place like a Sunday dress on a sow, even bought glass ashtrays to replace the aluminum ones. Marlene was proud of what he had done and determined to make her dream come true.
Terry, unfortunately, had bowled a three hundred game twice, a fact he never let her forget. He might be a dickhead, but he could bowl.
“You never know what might happen.”
“Yes, I do. You won’t hit three hundred.”
He was such an ass.
“Why don’t you go find a pair of boobs to ogle so I can practice?”
Without turning around, Marlene knew Terry had left. She’d dealt with shit from people like him for so long; it was second nature to simply throw back what she received, in double force. It was really the only thing that kept her from crying as a kid. Now it was habit. She was surprised he hadn’t said anything about her haircut. She’d hacked off six inches a few days ago, and it still felt weird to just be at her shoulders.
Marlene wanted to feel special, like there was something unique about her. Being the first woman to bowl a three hundred game at the Perfect Score Tournament was it. Her fifteen minutes of fame. She had three days until the tournament started, and she meant to get in as much practice as possible before it started. The ladies’ singles were her first event, followed by the team competition with her best friends Veronica and Babs, then mixed doubles with a blind partner. She hadn’t intended on bowling the doubles, but since she convinced Veronica to bowl the ladies’ doubles, she had to save face by saying she was going to bowl with a stranger too.
That part worried her. A stranger. Someone who didn’t know her or anything about her. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? In Espejo, everyone knew everything about you, but there was also a feeling of community, of being able to say howdy to someone you knew in the store every time you walked in the door.
Marlene readied herself for another frame by drying her hand over the air, then wiping her ball down meticulously with her towel. She w
asn’t using her wrist brace, to see how well she could bowl without it. That had been the first strike she’d thrown in six frames. Not the norm for Marlene, and certainly not good. She might have to put the damn wrist brace on in another minute.
As she stood and focused on her mark, she heard someone clear his throat behind her.
“Ah, you’re missing a pin there, sweet cheeks.”
Marlene saw red. Terry just couldn’t let up, could he?
“Listen, asshole ...” she began as she turned around to tell him to stick it up his ass. The words froze in her throat. Standing at the end of the lane was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her life. He was big, no check that, he was huge. At least six and a half feet tall, with curly light brown hair, and a well used cowboy hat on his head. His shoulders seemed to fill her vision as they stretched out a black cotton t-shirt until the seams looked like they’d bust. His jeans were sinfully tight across a nicely bulging package.
Holy ever-loving Christ.
His eyebrows rose as his gaze traveled up and down her body. She broke out in goosebumps when he lingered on her overly large boobs. Her pussy felt plump and warm in her jeans, and hot damn, she was getting damp panties just looking at him.
“I’m sorry; I thought you were someone else.” Marlene knew that sounded lame since she’d just called him an asshole, but it was the best her paralyzed tongue could come up with.
“Gotcha. Somebody been bugging you?” He stepped down into the seating area, and Marlene felt her nipples twitch.
“Just ... an old friend, I guess you could call him. He was just trying to get my goat, ya know. Um, is there something I can help you with? I mean, do you need help?”
Oh, hell, she should just leave the building and stop making a fool of herself. He smiled and those pearly whites just about blinded her. Who the hell was he?
“You can help me if you’re Marlene McComb.”
“Me? You’re looking for me?”
Not. Possible. Just not possible. Why would this Greek god be looking for her? He needed someone to polish his scepter?
“If you’re Marlene, then I’m your partner for the tournament. Name’s Buck Miller.”
Marlene wasn’t a religious woman, but when he announced that he was her partner, she could swear she heard angels singing up on high. He was her partner. Her partner. Well, halle-fucking-lujah!
“Oh, right. In the mixed doubles. Yep, I’m Marlene. Nice to meet you.”
She wanted to snort at her own inane comments. Nice to meet him. All she could think about was his name. Buck. Nice that it rhymed with fuck, because that’s all she could think about. He was big enough to ride. Big enough for her.
As Marlene stepped forward to shake his hand, the air around her seemed to crackle. When their hands met, the jolt that went through her had nothing to do with static electricity and everything to do with pure chemistry. Buck’s smile got wider. He felt it too.
“Would you like to practice with me?”
Would you like to jump in the sack with me?
Marlene couldn’t contain her wayward thoughts. He was just so damn ... hot and sexy. She was totally in lust. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the most powerful. Holy cow. She could hardly form a coherent thought in the glare of those pearly whites.
“Sure thing. Let me go get my stuff outta my truck.”
He turned to walk out and Marlene’s knees went weak. That ass. His ass was absolutely perfect. Round, tight, and the perfect size to caress and squeeze. And bite. She sat down heavily in the scoring chair and tried to calm her racing heart before Buck came back. She didn’t want to look like an idiot, and no doubt, her pale complexion was as red as a tomato right about then.
“Marlene, you okay?”
Marlene turned and looked at her friend Jesse, the owner of the Starlite Lanes. He was a fifty-something bachelor with steel gray hair, a sweet disposition, and the largest collection of Hawaiian shirts in the state of Texas.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You look like you’re about to pass out, honey. Do you need something from the snack bar?” He looked so concerned, she felt guilty. After all, she was flushed because she was horny, which he would never suspect, of course.
“Maybe an ice water, Jesse. That’d be peachy.”
He nodded and went off to the snack bar to get her the water. Marlene smacked her forehead with one hand and tried to think of icky things to calm herself down. Math class, old ladies with saggy boobs, toe cheese, rat droppings.
“Lee?”
Marlene’s head snapped up at Buck’s voice.
“Huh?”
“I’m sorry. I’m one of those fellas who likes to shorten names. If it’s okay, I thought I’d call you Lee instead of Marlene.”
Oh hell. He did it again. She could feel the heat creeping back into her cheeks. No one had ever given her a nickname that didn’t suck. Until now.
“That’s sweet of you. Sure, you can call me Lee.”
“Perfect. Can I warm up before we bowl?”
Marlene simply stared at him as he set his bowling bag down and leaned over to unzip it. That ass was going to send her into a coma if she kept looking at it. Warm up? Hell, if she got any warmer, she’d catch on fire.
“Sure. Let me reset the scores and we can bowl on both lanes,” she managed to squeeze out.
While she busied herself trying to remember what buttons to push to clear the scores, Buck took out his bowling balls and shoes. She peeked at his feet. He had biiiiig feet, really big feet. Didn’t that mean he had big ... other body parts? Just the thought sent shivers down her spine.
Buck hid a grin. Lee was staring at his ass. He could feel her eyes on him. Her incredible green eyes. She was a surprise, a big one. He had expected an older woman, not a young hottie with gorgeous tits and a beautiful smile. She was probably in her late twenties and no wedding ring. He was happy to see that.
He had driven down from Wichita Falls the day before. It was a long drive, but he liked to play country music really loud and sing while he drove, so it hadn’t seemed tedious. Who cared if he sang like a busted bell? No one was there to hear him. There was never anyone. Oh, he had dates, but nothing long-term. He’d never found anyone he wanted to be have a permanent relationship with. He was a carpenter, and most hot women didn’t like a man with rough hands and the sweet scent of hard-earned sweat.
Buck was a working man and wouldn’t settle for a woman who wanted to ride his back all the time. He wanted a woman as tough as he was, who liked the same things he did, and didn’t look down on him because of who and what he was.
He’d been bowling as long as he could remember. Every year, he drove to The Perfect Score Tournament. Probably because it was the only Texas tournament and he was a proud born-and-bred Texan. He never won much of anything, and he hoped to one day actually bowl a three hundred game and snag that ten thousand dollar prize. His average hovered at around two hundred ten, but he’d bowled a three hundred. He just had to do it in the tournament and get that chunk of change so he could finish his house.
It sat half-built with a huge blue tarp over the roof. As he got money, he added more onto it. Maybe by the time he was fifty, in twenty years, he would finish it, he thought sourly. That ten grand would be a sweet pot to bring home.
Speaking of sweet pots, Lee was bending over the ball return and the view of her ass was sweet indeed. It looked pretty damn good in those jeans. An ass you could hang on to -- not one that would break if you pulled too hard. Just the thought of having his hands wrapped around those hips made his cock twitch. He knew she was attracted to him. The second they made eye contact, her nipples waved hello.
“Where are you from, Lee?”
“What? Oh, right here in Espejo.” She waved one hand by her flushed cheeks and perched the other on one of those hips.
“Local, eh? Y’all have anything fun to do on Friday night?”
“There’s a few bars hereabouts. One karaoke. You interest
ed in that?” She held her right hand over the forced air on the ball return, apparently trying to dry it out. He felt a little hot himself.
“I can’t sing worth a damn, but that sounds like fun. Care to join me?”
She froze like a deer in headlights. Her mouth opened slightly, and Buck noticed her lips were a nice deep shade of pink. He thought about nibbling on them and how sweet she’d probably taste.
“You’re asking me?”
“Yep, you.” He smiled at her flustered expression.
“Oh, well, okay. Sure. Maybe we could get a bite to eat first after we practice?”
Buck couldn’t be more pleased. Lee was a nice-looking woman. They’d rub along well together.
Chapter Two
Marlene couldn’t believe it. Here she was having a burger and fries with the unbelievable Buck Miller, staring at him like an oversexed teenager no doubt. She couldn’t help it. He was not only good looking, he was funny and charming too. It was the first time she’d ever felt really comfortable with a man. Either her size intimidated most men, or they treated her as if she was beneath them. She hoped like hell that Buck wasn’t scamming her. She had no defense against that.
“Have you ever bowled in this tournament before?” Buck sat back against the wall with his long legs stretched out on the bench. He was drinking a sweet tea and nibbling on the last of his French fries.
“No, it’s never been close enough for me to come. I’ve always wanted to though.”
He dipped a french fry in ketchup and swirled it around as he cocked his head at her. “Why did you always want to?”
Marlene’s hunger welled inside her. She wanted that three hundred game so badly she could taste it. Literally. Her mouth watered with it.
The Perfect Score 3 Marlenes Man Page 1