Talk Me Down

“You one of them rich business women?”

“No.” She tried to leave it at that, but Mr. Randolph just waited, his rheumy blue eyes staring hard. Molly sighed. She’d been through this before. She knew the easy way out. “I do some sensitive work for a tech company. Nothing exciting though.”

“A techie, huh? Well, congratulations on the flowers. I’ll be seeing you around. Good to have you back.”

“Thank you, Mr. Randolph.”

She watched him go, ignoring the burning sensation at the back of her neck. The older man waved and disappeared into his flower, gift and fly-fishing shop, leaving Molly with no choice but to turn around and meet Ben’s hard eyes.

“So you work for a tech company.”

“No.”

“Then you’re a liar.”

“Yes. I’ve found it’s a lot easier than the truth.”

“The truth being?”

“That I don’t discuss my work with anyone.”

He rocked back on his heels a little, looking her up and down with a suspicious glare. “And why is that, Molly?”

“That’s none of your business. Plus it’s complicated, and I know how you hate complications.”

Ben didn’t look any friendlier at that. In fact, Molly felt an undignified urge to squirm under his examination and blurt out a false confession. When he put his hands on his hips, she could see his big gun, and not the big gun she was interested in, either. She clutched the flowers hard to her chest.

“I won’t have anything illegal going on here.”

“I’m not—”

“Is that clear?”

“Jeez Louise, Ben!” She threw up one hand and waved it in frustration. “Who do you think I am?”

He looked her up and down one more time, sweeping her body with little tingles. “I have no idea anymore.”

“I’m just Molly Jennings, all grown up. And hopefully charming as hell.”

“It shouldn’t be any mystery to you why I don’t appreciate the excitement of a secret life. I wouldn’t date a woman who kept half her life hidden, even if I wanted to.”

“Do you want to?”

He only gave her a frown, so with a little groan of defeat, Molly gave up. “All right, I’m leaving. Bye.” She turned up the sidewalk and headed toward her house, but she couldn’t resist one last attempt. “But I will be at The Bar tonight,” she called back. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

A blast of cold wind kicked up and drowned out his reply. If he’d made one.

The breeze carried the scent of snow and pine and crisp, gold aspen leaves. Molly smiled despite Ben Lawson and his ridiculousness. Fall had always been her favorite season, and nothing was better than fall in the mountains. Dry leaves tumbled down the narrow street, scraping and tapping the blacktop. Clumps of red berries clung to leafless bushes, bobbing in time to the gusts. On the steep hill above town, groves of bright yellow leaves quaked against a backdrop of green pines so dark they were nearly black.

She couldn’t believe it had been ten years since she’d come home. But when she’d left for college—after hiding out from Ben for the last three weeks of summer—her parents had sold the feed store, packed up the family home, and moved to St. George, Utah (“Just like Santa Fe! Only less crowded and snooty”).

Her brother lived mostly in Aspen, and she visited him a couple times a year, but other than that…Her world had been in Denver. But not anymore. Unless she needed new clothes.

Tumble Creek was her home again, and if Ben Lawson wanted nothing to do with her that was fine. There was no history between them; she certainly wasn’t in love with the man. Okay, maybe she’d had a crush on him for a few years. And maybe she’d spent more than a few years fantasizing about his lean, strong body and big, sure hands. But she would take care of that the same way she always did.

Molly picked up the pace and hurried toward home.

HE WAS STANDING in the dim light of her bedroom, waiting in the doorway for some signal from her. Molly let him wait. She wanted to take him in first, explore his body with just her eyes. And what a body it was.

His wide shoulders curved down into arms that looked carved from stone. Dark hair dusted his chest and danced a thin line over his sculpted abdomen. Oh, she wanted to feel his bronzed skin just there, where his belly was ridged with strength. She wanted those firm muscles to jump under her touch.

His cock grew harder as she watched, and she ceased to care about his abs. He was long and thick, the skin stretched tight until it glowed like silk.

Itching for something naughty to do, Molly’s fingers drifted over her hip and pressed against her damp panties. A moan crawled from her throat as she pictured Ben watching her, getting harder, his cock throbbing with need. She wanted him desperate, delirious. She wanted him to watch until he snapped, until he took her rough and hard.

Molly’s free hand reached blindly for the knob on the nightstand drawer as her other slipped beneath pink cotton and stroked.

“Oh,” she whispered, encouraged by her own slickness and heat. God, she wanted him there, sliding in, stretching her until she begged for more or for mercy or for anything he’d give her.

Her other hand closed around her favorite toy. Not Ben, but it had been her best friend for months now.

Molly slipped off her panties and clicked the switch. The familiar buzzing made her smile, and then it made her arch her back and moan in approval. Oh, yeah. Oh, yes, yes, yes.

She began floating up into pleasure and turned back to her fantasy of Ben. He was eyeing her with hot anger, furious that she hadn’t let him near yet.

Molly stroked one of her nipples, imagining the way he—

A sudden metallic screech interrupted, terrifying her into a scream. She sprang up, flinging the vibrator across the room. It landed with a thud and writhed itself into a dim corner. “Jesus! What the—?”

The ancient phone next to her bed rang again, nearly jangling itself off the table.

“Oh. My. God.” She thought she’d electrocuted herself with a defective sex toy. Her heart was still trying its best to escape from her chest, jumping ship at the first sign of danger. She pressed her hand to it, panting to catch some air.

Brrrrrrr-ring.

It had better be Ben. Maybe the two of them had some sort of psychosexual connection. If they did, she’d been giving him a hell of a ride for the past ten years.

Molly snatched up the phone and attempted to answer with some dignity. “What?”

“Hey, beautiful.”

Unfortunately, she knew exactly who it was. Cameron, that bastard. “Go away!”

Molly slammed down the phone, hoping she broke the ancient menace in the process, but of course they didn’t make ’em like they used to. No, this phone wasn’t slapped together in China. The damn thing was probably made of pure American steel.

It jangled alive again. Loudly. Her aunt had clearly been hard of hearing.

Molly was nearly weeping with frustration when she answered. “Please, Cameron, for the love of God, leave me alone!”