Bobby Does Dallas: Hill Country Heart Read Free Page A

greedy kisses and the mating of fevered tongues.  Her hero would want her – her – Cecile.  His cock would be hard and hungry – for her .  He would find delight – in her .  Arching her back she met his thrusts, and parried them with the rhythmic seeking of her hips.  Frantically, she ground her clit beneath her own caress until she achieved release – a sad, lonely release.  Tears leaked from her eyes and ran down the side of her face to dampen the pillow. Was this the way it was going to be?  Would she never know the passionate touch of a lover?  How sad – how very sad.
     
    The buzz of her cell phone drew Cecile out of her orgasm induced stupor.  As orgasms go, it hadn't been that good – but it was the best she had felt in many a day.  Sometimes Cecile thought that Annalise and the other erotic authors that she dealt with on a day-to-day basis made a lot of that 'fireworks, the earth moved and volcanic eruption' stuff up.  Maybe Carl was right, maybe she was frigid.  Her body craved a climax, but the ones that she gave herself were weak and short-lived, nothing like what other women boasted of feeling.
    Dragging herself off the bed, she retrieved the phone from her desk.  For a moment, she hoped that it might be Carl calling to check in on her, but it wasn’t – it was the gynecologist calling to remind her that it was time for her pap smear and mammogram.  Yuck!  She hated doctor visits!  Noting it on the calendar, she was grateful that it was over a week away.  For a minute she stared at the phone, wishing she had someone that she could call and invite out for a meal.  Because Carl was such an asshole, they didn’t have many friends and he discouraged her from having girlfriends that she could meet for drinks and go shopping with.  She didn’t know why.  Sometimes she thought that he was afraid that she would talk to them – confide in someone how truly bad their marriage was.  So Cecile wasn't close to anyone other than Annalise , and she lived almost four hours away.  Carl didn’t have anything to worry about – there was no way that she was going to air her dirty laundry in front of her Dallas work acquaintances.  They had no idea that she – an erotic romance editor – lay untouched every night in a lonely bed, forced to masturbate for even the smallest of amount of sexual relief. 
    Climbing back into bed, she opened her emails.  There was a message from Annalise , apologizing again for not having the five chapters that she had promised Cecile.  She confessed that she was experiencing major wrter's block.  Typing in a quick response, Cecile joked with her, doing her best to inspire ‘ Lise out of her funk. 
    After talking to her friend coming back from the conference, Cecile realized that she wasn't the only one who was depressed.  ‘ Lise Evans was still desperately in love with a man she had met in college.  They had a whirlwind romance but had been torn apart after Annalise's suffered through a tragic rape.  It had happened over spring break during ‘ Lise‘s freshman year.  Afterwards, she had endured several reconstructive surgeries.  Annalise and Ethan had never seen one another again – the only other thing that Cecile had managed to get out of Annalise was that she had never told Ethan about the rape. 
    One thing Cecile did know; Annalise was still deeply in love with Ethan.  Every hero in every book that she had written was patterned after him.  And every dedication in every book had his first name in tribute – 'to my own hero, Ethan.  I will never forget you.' At Annalise's insistence, the artwork on the front of every one of her novels was Ethan’s likeness. If he was as good looking as the man on the cover of the books, he was a sight to behold.  No wonder ‘ Lise was still in love with him. 
    If she and Carl got divorced it would be a long time before she put herself into the dating fray.  She was tired of getting hurt – but Lord –