“Come on, Darla, honey. Give me my pants back!” John Murphy shouted, wondering what on earth happened to the sweet woman he’d made love to just two short weeks ago. The same woman who’d fulfilled his sexual fantasy–starred in those sex fantasies since junior high school. She was taunting him, humiliating him while he stupidly chased her in his underwear. He felt like an ass toting his Nikes in his hands running down Greenrich street. Good thing things hadn’t gone any further before she tricked him and ran off with his pants or he’d be completely naked–toting a hard-on as well.
“Don’t give this ‘honey’ business you rat. You can run around town naked until the second coming for all I care, you bastard.”
He stared at her pretty ass as he charged for her. “What’s wrong? What the hell did I do, baby?” John liked his occasional lunch with Darla while she took her break for lunch from the movie rental store where she worked as an assistant manager. Plus, the free movies she gave him were an added bonus.
In truth, when they’d made love it felt right, too right…and it scared the shit out of him. Maybe he was running scared these past two weeks, using exams and family issues as an excuse.
“Betty said she saw you with Bitsy Stark! How long did it take you to get into her pants? I thought we had something special going on, but I guess sex must have reduced your brain cells—or does it just cause memory loss. I’m okay to sleep with, but then you don’t return by phone calls for two weeks after we’d had sex—pig-vomit slime ball.”
“Darla, can we have this conversation with my pants on—like civilized adults,” he said harshly between his teeth. He was taken aback by her jealous behavior. He’d thought they’d had an okay time together that night.
“You call your juvenile behavior civilized?” she whispered back—more like a stage whisper then a silent one. Darla finally stopped running, and changed to a slow jog when they reached the back parking lot behind the strip mall uptown shopping area. “I gave up this crap in high school,” she panted. “I don’t deserve this sort of treatment.”
“Darla, honey, baby, buttercup…” He was with Bitsy Stark, but not for the reasons she assumed. Actually Darla’s ranting was turning him on!
“Cretin.” She stopped and, turned toward him and crossed her arms, still catching her breath. He nearly ran his near-naked body into her. “The only reason you even agreed to see me, you lying mouse turd, was because I led you to believe we’d have sex. Ha! I was right. Just because I don’t have a college education like you…you think I’m some sort of…of waddle brained, airhead, sex-toy bimbo?”
“If you’d just listen for one second—“ She wouldn’t stop talking. So he shut her up the only way he knew how. He reached out and firmly grasped her face and planted one hard, firm kiss to her luscious, too busy mouth. She melted instantly. Just like he knew she would. He opened his eyes glanced down to her hand, deepening his kiss—then reached back and snatched his pants clean from her hand. “Gotcha!”
Darla’s eyes snapped opened, and her face held such a wounded expression, his triumph was short lived. He changed the subject.
“By the way. What do you know about my tires being slashed the other day?”
“Why? Do you think I might have done it?” She squinted her eyes and glared at him.
“No! But I’m sorry I didn’t think of it.”
“Darla, this is serious. It cost me over five hundred to get those tires replaced.”
“Maybe another one of your sex kittens?”
“Baby, you’re my only sex kitten.”
John quickly pulled on his pants, then nuzzled at her neck and she sighed. God, she was such a sensual creature, just the simplest touch from him sent her reeling. He pulled back. “So, have I totally screwed up?” He offered his most pitiful expression. “Will you give me another chance—to redeem my manhood?”
She crunched her face in mock deep thought. “I don’t know. What have you got in mind? You didn’t even take me out on a date before you jumped my bones.”
“I seem to remember you’re the one that did the jumping.”
“I just kissed you. You’re the one that tore my clothes off.”
John noticed several people staring at them as they walked by. He tugged on her arm to lead her to a more private spot in the alley.
“All right.” He placed his thumb on her lower lip, rubbing it lightly. He loved how her light gray eyes turned smoky when he touched her. “I don’t have any exams next week. How about we spend the day together on Saturday? We can go wherever you want.” He wanted to kiss her again, but she seemed to have a hair-trigger response whenever he touched her. It drove him insane and so hard he could barely breathe. But he could handle it. He even managed to get his shoes on, tying the laces while keeping his eyes fixed on hers.
She smiled and nodded. That had him worried. She never gave in so easily. “Whatever I want. Okay.” Then she paused.
“What is it?” he asked when he noticed that something had caught her attention.
“That man.” She pointed at the back window to his dad’s hardware store. A man wearing a black jacket, the hood over his head, was trying to jimmy the lock to the delivery entrance.
“What the hell? Darla, baby,” he whispered in her ear. “Get out your cell and call the police. I’m going to go around the other side.”
The guy must have spotted John, because he took off like a scared jackrabbit. John ran after the bastard, but lost him down a darkened alley. John decided to head him off at the pass. It worked.
He came full-force against the guy’s chest–tackling him to the ground and they both fell hard to the concrete. John’s hands came down hard to break his fall only to land on the assailant’s chest. This guy is a lightweight. The man’s chest was small and soft. Perky soft. Breast soft! John was so startled, he threw himself back, only to be assaulted when the he/she kicked him in the head– forcing him back onto his butt with a grunt—then took off like a shot. Only the sounds of soft-soled shoes on gravel was all he heard. His head buzzed in pain.
“John! Oh, god. John, are you all right?” Darla ran for him and knelt down and touched his face.
“Woman.” John moaned. “It was…a woman.”
“Don’t worry. I called the police. Oh! You’re mouth is bleeding.” She touched his lip with her fingers.
“Ow!” John placed his head on her lap and smiled up at her like an idiot. He had to admit he was kind of liking the hero-attention.
“Sorry. Oh mmm.” She kissed him lightly. Little butterfly kisses to his lips. “Is that better?”
“Oh yeah, much better.” It hurt. But damn if he didn’t care. She turned her attention away when the sounds of sirens filled the alley.
“John, what do you think he was after?”
“What do you think he, uh, she was after?” He tried to breath, but his head hurt too much. “Spray paint, tools, chains. Things that thugs don’t want to pay for.”
“You said it was a woman?” Her voice held and edge of disbelief.
“Honey, criminals aren’t only just men.”
“I know that!” She fell silent, waiting for the authorities. John was content to keep his head in her lap and stared up at her pretty face.
“I didn’t sleep with you for the sex.”
She smiled. “You didn’t.”
He shook his head. “I did it for the free DVD rentals.”
She slapped him on the shoulder. “You liar. You slept with me because you’re secretly in love with me.”
“Ya, well—that and because I heard you were great in the sack.”
“Uff!” She stood up, not bothering to remove his head from her lap. His skull fell hard against the asphalt.
Lord, she really turned him on.