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    Summer Fever
    Summer Fever
    Summer Fever
    Ebook86 pages1 hour

    Summer Fever

    By Catt Ford

    1.5/5

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    About this ebook

    I was looking forward to a relaxing, enjoyable vacation at my parents’ old house on the lake. No responsibility, no stress, and no entanglements, other than the odd one-night bang with a gorgeous guy (who preferably dresses left). When a cop pulled over to check on me, I was blindsided. Officer Russell Seavers was an absolute hunk – and I had to have him. Just once (or maybe twice), but no way was I in the market for anything serious. Just a quick slick grapple by the lake, a hop or two in the sack, and I’d be good. But one look at that body that just didn’t quit, oh God, that ass, and those dark, dark eyes, and I was afraid my summer fling might turn into something else, something I didn’t expect.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDreamspinner Press
    Release dateSep 1, 2008
    ISBN9781935192107
    Summer Fever
    Author

    Catt Ford

    Catt Ford lives behind the orange curtain in southern California with a partner and two familiars in the form of cats whose fur is as black as their evil little hearts. She is a graphic artist by day and a storyteller by inclination. Catt enjoys the research required for writing a believable story. She is a rabid card-carrying fan of bull riding and also enjoys swing dancing. She gets drunk on words and sometimes overimbibes, but loves to write about love and happy endings. Blog: catt-ford.livejournal.com

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      Book preview

      Summer Fever - Catt Ford

      Summer Fever

      FUCK, why do I bother with this stupid thing?

      I pulled over, turned off the engine, and grabbed my GPS to peer at the screen. "Lost fucking satellite again!"

      I knew where I was going, but the road I usually went on was blocked off, and I couldn’t quite remember the turnoff to get there from the other side. I whacked the stupid unit and the mechanical voice repeated, Recalculating. Lost satellite signal.

      I glanced up at the clouds in the sky and sighed. It was dusk and getting just dark enough that if I made the wrong turn, I might be wandering around on back roads the entire night.

      A flash of blue light caught my attention and in the rearview mirror, I saw a cop car pull up behind mine. Great, I’ll probably get a ticket for loitering without visible means of support, I muttered.

      I slumped down in my seat, waiting for the portly mook of an upstate cop to come over to chew me out.

      Everything okay, sir?

      I looked up and my mouth dropped open. Man, what I wouldn’t let you do to me, I muttered.

      What was that?

      I sat up alertly. Did he know how hot he was? Nothing. Am I doing something wrong?

      He smiled and I melted. Dimples on a man in uniform, I was so dead. I wondered if he had dimples in his ass, too. I caught my fingers flexing involuntarily and grabbed the wheel to give them something to do.

      He looked a little wary at my sudden movement. I hadn’t noticed it before, but his right hand was hovering by his holster and he held a flashlight in his left as if it were a club. "I don’t know. Are you doing something wrong?"

      I laughed in a release of nervous tension. I’m not, but my GPS is. Lost satellite transmission. And when it does work, she changes her mind constantly. If I didn’t kind of know where I was, I’d be in Cleveland right about now.

      He relaxed a little, which gave me a chance to take inventory of his rugged good looks. He was tanned like he spent a lot of time in the sun, and when he smiled, lines creased the outer edges of his eyes and around his mouth. I couldn’t see his eyes because he was wearing the usual aviators even though it was getting dark, but his hair was a glossy dark brown. I licked my lips while he answered.

      Are you trying to get to Cleveland?

      No, I’m trying to get to Bluebird Lane, but Big Sandy Lane is blocked off.

      Ah, gotcha. Well, if you go on another half mile, you turn left on Little Sandy, take your third left, and you’ll hit Big Sandy past the construction. That should do you.

      I could think of a few other things that would do me, but I didn’t want to get arrested on the first night of my vacation. Or did I? "Thanks,

      officer –?" I peered at his badge, gleaning only the information that his badge number was 3114.

      You’re welcome, he answered.

      I wished I could see his eyes, but he was bent over, resting his hands on the roof of my car, so I thought we were on friendlier terms by now.

      So if you just want to give me my ticket …

      Ticket for what? He sounded confused. I liked it.

      Whatever statute I violated by not pulling over all the way onto the shoulder, I answered with a grin. Then maybe we could negotiate it down to a warning?

      The dimples sprang into his cheeks as he grinned, his teeth flashing white in his tanned face. What did you have in mind?

      Maybe I could suck your cock? I was praying that I’d read him right, because if not, I really might be heading to jail, or worse.

      License and registration, please, sir. He took a step back and straightened up to where I couldn’t see his face.

      I leaned over to pull my wallet from the glove box with a sinking feeling, but when you’re a little mouthy, you gotta expect reactions like that when you’re on the hunt for dick. I jumped a bit when a car drove by and I saw the lights and shield on the door. Had he called for backup? He gave them the thumbs up and they drove by, but he took my license anyway.

      I slid down in my seat staring through the windshield.

      J.D. Andrews? What’s the J.D. stand for?

      Jack Daniels, I said sulkily.

      He laughed. Your parents must have had a weird sense of humor.

      I lucked out. My brother got stuck with Hiram Walker. I go by J.D.

      I don’t blame you. Must be hell in bars. He handed back my paperwork. Well, Mr. Andrews, I wasn’t planning on giving you a ticket, but you know us backwoods cops. We can always trump up some charges with little or no provocation. So why don’t we just cut straight to the negotiations. You want to suck my cock, and I like that idea. How about we go wherever you were headed and get to it?

      I brightened right up. A ticket or a night in jail would have been such a bummer, and in spite of the uniform, I could tell he had the kind of build that always got my motor running, and he dressed left. My absolute favorite, closely followed by men who dressed right.

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