He’d always operated on the theory that pussy was pussy, some presented in settings a bit finer than others, but essentially the same when you got down to it. Like the old proverb said, “At night all cats are gray and upside down all women are sisters.” Yet if they were all equal, Carole was a little more equal than the rest. He hated admitting that, but there was no denying it.
Cam told himself he would never see her again. Manfully he resisted every urge to write, phone, or otherwise contact her, but she was never far from his thoughts. Grumbling to himself like an old badger, he stalked off toward the lodge, determined to ignore any possible responsibilities and sulk in his rooms alone, perhaps drink himself into a stupor. Maybe that would allow him a decent night’s sleep for a change.
To reach the stairs leading to the second floor and his apartment, he had to pass through either the dining room or the common room, which served as a lobby for the lodge. Fortunately, there were only two other guests besides his doctors right now, and he hoped Slim and Rusty had them well occupied. Since it would not be dinner time for another half-hour or so, the dining room should be empty. He chose that route.
Perversely, he found himself glancing toward the small table in a corner, the one Carole had often chosen when she was here. He was seeing things. No way could it be occupied, especially by a slender blonde woman whose sleek hair fell forward to veil her face as she bent over something spread before her on the table. If he blinked, the vision would vanish. He did and it did not.
“Carole?” His voice emerged in a croak.
Her head came up, swiveled to face him. She squinted into the glare. The low afternoon light was behind him, so although he could see her clearly, lit by a golden beam, he recognized all she could see was a dark silhouette. Still, she jumped to her feet, shoving the chair back so hard it rocked as the legs screeched on the tile floor.
Her reply spilled out in breathless haste. “Rosalinda said you might not be back tonight, that you were after a lion with a couple of clients. I persuaded her to let me have one of the cabins. I was determined to wait until you returned.”
He found himself standing an arm’s length from her. He inhaled the new delicate spring meadow scent she wore, soaked up the wholesome beauty of her fine-boned face now seemingly devoid of make-up, and plumbed the mixture of eagerness and hesitation in her eyes.
“Why? What for? You aren’t pregnant, are you?”
His words emerged harsher, more accusatory than he’d intended. Yet he had to know. What brought her back? If she only wanted to play a bit more, it would kill him. How could he let her into his world again, only to see her leave once more?
She blanched. “No, of course not! Even if I were, I wouldn’t have returned for that. I might have informed you in time, but I’d have taken care of things myself. I’m a modern woman and not without means.”
He gentled his tone. “No, I wasn’t implying you intended to pressure me or make demands. But why are you here?”
She blinked, a moist sheen glistening in her eyes. “I—I had to.. I was going slowly mad, trying to force myself back into the old mold of my life, trying to forget, trying to pretend I could go on living as if none of this had happened. I couldn’t. I’m here to stay. You can run me off, arrest me for trespassing or whatever you will, but I swear I won’t leave again voluntarily.”
He caught her hand. “Let’s go upstairs and discuss this in private. I’m tired and dirty and, until I saw you, about as out of sorts as I ever get. I didn’t believe my eyes for a moment. The last thing I expected to see was you, sitting there looking too delicious to be real.”
She gave a breathless laugh, stumbling behind him as he half-dragged her up the stairs. As soon as the door slammed behind them, he drew her into a crushing embrace. She flowed against him, tipping her head back to offer sweet, parted lips. It was an offer he could not ignore. From that moment on, things escalated at a feverish rate.
Within seconds, they fell together across his big bed, a trail of clothes scattered behind them. A quick test of her pussy with one finger assured Cam that extra foreplay was not necessary. Carole was slick and ready, hot to the point of melting.
She realized what he’d done and responded at once. “I’m ready! I was on fire, all the way up the highway from Phoenix. Just knowing I was getting closer to you had me boiling. If you hadn’t showed up, I’m not sure what I’d have done. What kind of spell have you cast over me, Cam?”
Her admission stirred something like triumph within him, but also sounded a reassuring note by confirming she needed him as badly as he needed her. Without hesitation, he thrust into her tight channel, a soul-deep satisfaction spreading from his cock to encompass his whole being. She lifted her endless legs and wrapped them around his hips, clinging as if she never meant to let go.
Belatedly he answered her question. “The same kind of magic you work on me, sweetheart. Just days ago, I wouldn’t have believed it. I didn’t dare to believe, even when I wanted to very much, just before you left. We seem to be meant for each other. You’ve spoiled me for any other woman, and I’d like to think I’ve killed your desire for any other man.”
She arched to his thrusts with a strangled cry. “Ooohhh, Cam! Oh, yes. God, yes. Just like that. Oh, yes. Fuck me, fuck me! Nobody can do it for me like you do.”
Cam reared back for a moment, gazing down at her glowing face and body, reflecting the incandescent heat of her arousal. She was right where he wanted her, impaled on his cock and clearly loving every bit of it. “Forget that cabin, sugar. I’ll get your luggage first thing in the morning, but you’re staying right here until I have my fill of you. That’s likely to take at least fifty years.”
THE END
ABOUT DEIRDRE O’DARE
A lifelong reader, Deirdre learned to write—poems and stories—as soon as she could print the letters and try to spell words. She went pro with women’s fiction as Gwynn Morgan after she retired from a US civil service job and switched to erotic romance some years back. A confirmed desert rat, she sets most tales in her beloved southwest and slips in her ranch and outdoor background with adventures and ‘critters’ as secondary characters.
Although all of Deirdre’ s tales are explicit, she emphasizes she writes love stories and not just sex stories because she believes Love in all its forms is the One True Thing. She also believes that every human deserves to find and enjoy it. She currently resides in central New Mexico and serves as chauffer and household staff for two amazing dogs. She enjoys many creative hobbies and spending time with friends and her spectacular grandkids when she can escape from the keyboard.
For more information, visit deirdredares.blogspot.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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