Disarmed Read Free

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    “Jessie Workings.” Her white teeth appeared from beneath those sensational lips.
    He leaned down to look into her welcoming eyes. “Mavis VanHorn.” Kneeling forward, he moved closer to her face, her sweet scent wafting under his nose.
    A warm blush ran over her. “Hey,” she whispered, as if he’d taken her breath.
    “Hey.” Upon closer inspection, he decided she was the same as he’d left her. Those light freckles around her nose, a mole on her cheek that matched the one on her stomach, just left of her navel. Before he straightened his body, he caught a glimpse of C-cup breasts peeking over the demi-cut of her pushup bra. The white shirt she wore left little to be imagined. Her lacy black bra barely seemed to constrain her protruding nipples.
    “It’s good to see you, Jessie. I’ve missed you. Missed having you home.”
    He saw her mouth moving, but he couldn’t for the life of him concentrate on the words. Her smell, a mixture of peaches and womanly lust, embraced him. Her long legs, tanned and lean, escaped the bottom of her short skirt. He wrestled with the image of them wrapped around his waist like they had been fifteen years earlier on a lazy afternoon.
    “Cousin Jessie. Hey, man. I ain’t seen you in a dog’s age. What’s going on, man?”
    The tap on his shoulder from his cousin Marcus—Jessie assumed based on his voice—was unexpected, and unwanted. He could have stayed in that moment with Mavis forever. Trapped in her web of sexual chemistry and animal magnetism.
    When he turned to greet Marcus, he saw a much-changed young man. His cousin was dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a Razorback jersey. His brown hair was cut short, close to a buzz. About his waist was a belt with a huge, silver buckle and his persona seemed somehow cooler. Damn, he looked like a Northerner. Just a couple of years ago, Marcus had been clean-cut and preppy. A real straight-laced prick that Jessie loved goading about his lack of athleticism.
    “Hey, Marcus. It has been a long time. I didn’t get by to see you before I left last time.”
    “I know. That was my fault. I was over in Nashville and didn’t gauge my time right. Charge it to my head, not my heart, bro.”
    The hug was a half-lean, half-hug, half-handshake, that took all of a minute. It was a minute too long considering where Jessie’s mind was—running up the mile of legs that met in the middle of her thighs in a tight cross. Mavis’ skirt ruffled softly outward to show a little more of her skin just before it curved up into the gentle crease of her ass.
    Happy that Marcus didn’t linger, Jessie turned to take a seat beside the woman that had managed to bring him out of his funk. The funk of death that had followed him back across the water. He didn’t know if he had a future in the Marines, but for the first time in months, the black cloud moved just a little further out of his atmosphere. The best of his heart drummed against his chest wall; the gentle tug started in his crotch. Every inch of Mavis made him want to roll around inside her with all of her femininity pressed against him. His fingers entangled in her soft, wavy hair.
    “I brought you some of my peach cobbler.” Mavis was smiling now.
    She made the absolute best cobbler in Crittenden County. “I appreciate that, Mavis. I can’t wait to get a piece of that.”
    Her cheeks burned red at his deliberate insinuation. She turned her head away, checking to see if anyone else overheard, Jessie assumed. She faced him again, the red deepening over her face and chest.
    “Stop that, Jessie. Someone’s gonna hear you.” She covered her luscious mouth with her hand and rolled her eyes at his gauche behavior. A little sparkle in her eye let him know she wasn’t as offended by his comment as she let on.
    Jessie sat back in his chair to give her a moment to compose herself.
    “Everyone, dinner’s ready,” Momma Jewell called out to the visitors in the house. She’d added the