Sally: Autumn Storms (F&L Story #4)

Sally: Part 12

Part 12

Those two years without a warm, willing woman hit him like a fist to the gut as she draped over top of him.  Wilson let out a frustrated breath.  He’d gotten a hard-on while her fingers tickled him, but hopefully she didn’t notice.  Now she wanted to talk about his past.  Hell, all he wanted to do was strip her down naked and search for tan lines…with his tongue.

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he faced her.  “Why is this important to you?  It’s not a pretty story.”

“That’s why I want to hear it,” she said.  “I want to know why someone like you went to prison.”

“Someone like me?”

“Yes.  An honest, honorable man.”

“That’s not me,” he protested, shifting uneasily in his boots.  That she thought those things about him irritated him.  He wasn’t honorable.  He’d been thinking lewd thoughts just a second ago about his boss lady.

“And that’s why I want to know,” she said again.  “You have such a low opinion of yourself.  I’m curious as to why.  If you weren’t honest, you would have lied to me and told me you weren’t guilty of killing someone…and if you weren’t honorable, you would have taken advantage of me just now in the dirt.  Which I thank you for, by the way.  Heaven knows, I might have welcomed it, and that wouldn’t be good.”

Okay, now he was truly irritated.  “Because I’m a murderer, you mean.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “No, because you’re younger than me.”

“Just how old do you think I am?”

She smirked.  “Well, the employment form you filled out says you’re thirty-five.”

“So?”

“So, I’m thirty-seven.  That makes you younger.”  She squinted at him, her face dawning as a new thought occurred to her.  “And you’re changing the subject.  I told you not to do that.”

“Which subject are we supposed to be discussing?” he asked, bristling with her obstinacy.  “We went from my imprisonment to sex to age.”

Sally’s smirk transformed to a full-blown grin.  “Which subject would you like to discuss first?  I’m partial to all of them.”

Mary, Mother of God, give me strength.  Did she truly want to talk about sex right now?  His libido could only take so much.  Her lush body just lay across him, and his hadn’t recovered from that yet.  A quick, mental calculation told him that he had another two weeks before payday.  Two more weeks of Sally, and her pigheaded body, until he could release years of sexual inflammation.  On a woman not Sally Sanborn.

He gruffly cleared his throat.  “My imprisonment,” he supplied.  Sally clicked her tongue.

“Aw, you’re no fun.”

“You’re the one that wants to know this,” he growled at her, his muscles twitching to grab her and kiss the life out of that sassy mouth.  “If that’s a problem with you, then that’s fine by me.  I’d rather not relive that day.”

“Alright,” she sighed, delivering a crooked smile at him.  “I’ll go on up to the house and make a pot of coffee.  You be there in five minutes with your storytelling boots on, or I’m coming after you.  Understood?”

He clenched his fists tightly by his side.  Just one kiss.  One turbulent kiss to knock that wicked grin off her face and let her know exactly who wears the bigger boots here.  “Five minutes,” he agreed, knowing full well that she’d be within reach of a dozen weapons while inside her house.  Which was a good thing.  Maybe she should threaten him with castration by gunpowder for even thinking of her mouth that way.