Turning Up Your Temperature
August 30, 2008 | Excerpts
As promised, here’s the second instalment from TEDDI TURNS ON. Check out Teddi’s reaction to the hot hunk.
EXCERPT:
Teddi stared out the rain-streaked windows at the busy tarmac. Her mind too absorbed with the Munich tour operator, who had done 180 degrees on their contract, to appreciate the parade of jets taxiing along the horizon or the sexy man who had found her airline tickets. Every phone call into her busy travel agency had been from an agitated customer ready to blame her for the radical changes to the European tour they had paid a hefty dollar to enjoy.
Maybe she’d better make one last phone call in the hope that damn Bavarian tour operator, who had been screwing with her head, had finally grown some balls and decided to do the right thing.
She flipped open her cell phone and after two rings heard Francine Daniels, the sovereign of all office managers, answer.
“It’s me, Francie, any word from Munich?” She held her breath, praying for good news.
“No, doll, no word from Fritz the Faker. I took the liberty of calling the bank. Sorry to add more woe to an already crappy day, but he’s cashed that big check you insisted on sending him. We’re in a world of hurt if he doesn’t follow through on his contract.”
“I’m not going to let this crook get away with it.” The cool front she presented to the world would not crumble.
“So get going, Theodora, your flight should be ready to board.”
“Please, I detest that name. It sounds so Old World?”
“Well, that’s where you’re going, kid. I envy you. Think of all those sexy foreign guys.”
Teddi shook her head. Men held no interest for her.
“Don’t you think it’s time you took off your ring?” asked Francine.
“No. I don’t.” She twisted the simple gold band around her finger, hurt by the insensitive suggestion.
“It’s time you stopped hiding out in this office and move on. Eligible men aren’t falling from the sky.”
“And I don’t care if they are. Give it up.” Even though Matthew was dead, in her heart she was still his wife.
“Go on your trip, relax, get a massage. Meet a man. Get laid,” said the irascible Francine. “It’s time, Teddi.”
Of course she missed the intimacy of marriage. The sex had been great and it sure beat the hell out of aspirin to get rid a headache. She was so tense and frustrated she’d do just about anything to get some relief. She closed her eyes, rotated her head, and heard enough cracks and pops to make her crave a good massage.
The darkened room and soft music helped her to relax. She stretched out on the table, shifting just enough to take the pressure off her nipples. Her arms hung limply over the table edge as she watched the masseur enter. With the soft snick of the lock, she realized they were alone. There she was, naked except for the warm towel draped across the swell of her butt. There he was, all male and tanned with a white tee shirt stretched across his rock-hard chest.
A trace of something spicy floated around her just as his warm hands slid up her spine. She couldn’t stop the moan that escaped as he rubbed purposefully to relieve the tension in her shoulders. Everything felt so good. His slick hands gliding down her torso, the music, the warm oil, ooh especially those hands as they took control of her muscles and thoughts. His thumbs pressed deeper into her tight flesh as his fingers spread across her back. The warmth skittering over her skin was so intimate and welcome, reminding her of all that she missed. He pushed firmer, sliding up, down, and out. His fingers skimmed the side of her breast. She held her breath. A deep chuckle filled the room.
“You like?”
“Oh, yes.” She twisted to relieve the tingling in her nipples, exposing her breast. His index finger traced her puckered aureole as his palm massaged her, making her vagina swell.
The towel dipped as he moved lower and stroked her butt. His long fingers slid between her cleft, setting off sensations she’d only dreamt about. Her hips jerked as he moved lower yet. Somehow the scrap of cloth had disappeared.
He shifted her legs apart as he caressed her thighs. His fingers delved higher until they lightly stroked…
I’ll be back in the morning with another excert. Until then…
Happy Reading!
Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey…Hotter than Hell
