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Perfect Alibis (ebook)

Autor:Jane Wenham-Jones;
Categoría:
ISBN: EB9781909335530
Accent Press nos ofrece Perfect Alibis (ebook) en inglés, disponible en nuestra tienda desde el 25 de Octubre del 2012.
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How to feel happy, strong, uplifted, tingly, light, free and altogether bloody fantastic:

Drink champagne

Eat chocolate

And have three orgasms in the afternoon

Patsy stepped from the shower, deliciously sensual, beads of water bouncing off skin still slippery with oil. She ran light fingers down her belly, wriggling pleasurably at the memory of the hands that had smoothed and massaged, teased and caressed. The set of muscular buttocks shed admired pumping up and down in the dressing-table mirror, while shed writhed beneath them.

Mmmmn!

This was sex at its best. The moments when doubts dissolved and she was invincible. She was high and exhilarated, so fortunate to have it all Her body gleamed in the huge mirror. She struck a pose, hand on hip, back arched, pouting as she winked appreciatively. Not bad!

Body quite firm, boobs still holding up, bottom not sagging. None of that disgusting cellulite stuff to be seen in vast quantities wobbling its way along the side of the pool at the Health club. Her face was still damp with steam. Her hair curled in fetching tendrils around her post-orgasmic flush.

She preened. Not bad at all for thirty-eight.

She picked up one of the fluffy towels and wound it around her shoulders, savouring the feeling of elation that hummed beneath her skin. Never mind Prozac! What one needs, girls, is a bit of Afternoon Delight

She rubbed the towel down the length of one smooth golden leg and grinned.

This one was a bit different. He had energy and vitality. He thrust her down onto the bed and he went at it for all he was worth. Bit of a change to feel a hard lean body on top (behind/to the side/anyway she damn well wanted it!). The last time shed had sex with Dave shed run her hand across the soft layer of jelly over his stomach and shed actually shuddered. Dave clambered on, grunted a bit and clambered off again. This one, well, this one

Kicking the towel aside, she threw open the bathroom door, one hand cupping a thrusting breast, her thumb circling the already interested nipple in a way that she knew would give him an instant new hard-on.

Its no good, she called as she strode into the bedroom beyond. Youre just going to have to shag me again!

He was standing still naked at the other side of the bed. At the sound of her voice he swung round. She saw the startled panic cross his features.

For a moment they hung there frozen. Both staring stricken at the mobile in his hand. From which was emanating a strange series of strangled squawks.

His wife? How had she found out he was here?

He put a frantic finger to his lips.

Bit late for that now .

Despite his height, there was suddenly something vulnerable and baby-like about his naked body hunched over the phone. His voice had a hoarse note that wasnt usually there. His mouth twitched as he spoke into the receiver.

I dont know what youre talking about!

She heard the roar as he jumped.

Christ! Dave!

Patsy clutched at her stomach. He flapped his free hand at her, signalling her not to speak. Goddammit she could barely breathe!

He sounded as if someone had hold of his balls (As soon they might well have). Of course your wifes not here. Ive told you, youve got the wrong number! Calm down

She saw his fist clenching and unclenching. She stood, one hand to her mouth, heart thumping.

He was sounding desperate. I dont know who you are but I can assure you

The squawking had stopped. He looked from the phone in his hand back to her. Hes coming round!

For a moment they just stared at each other. Then he dropped the mobile and she made a mad grab for the chocolate wrappers.

Her heart was hammering painfully; adrenalin roared around her body, making her fingertips tingle. She could hear her breath coming in pants as she scurried about the room gathering clothes and belongings.

Knickers! Where are they? My bra! What did you do with it?

You werent wearing one.

I was!

They dashed to and fro, stumbling and fumbling in their panic, screeching recriminations at each other as they scrabbled frantically for clothes, pulled at bed-sheets, swept up wine glasses and tissues.

Why on earth did you speak?

How did I know you were on the phone? Oh Jesus wheres my mobile?

Didnt you hear it ring?

Of course I didnt. I was in the shower. Shit, theres only one stocking here. Why did you answer it?

Why shouldnt I? Its my phone. I thought it was Robbie. He always withholds the number.

Robbie? Who the bloody hells Robbie?

Its his house! He told me hed warn me when he was coming back.

You stupid bastard! Where are my shoes?

Im stupid? How the hell did your old man get my number? And how does he know where we are?

I have no idea!

But hes got the address! Couldnt keep your mouth shut.

It wasnt me!

Shed got everything but her footwear in her arms now. He had on a T-shirt and socks. She didnt fancy him at all. Youd better get some clothes on, she said.

He stood dithering in the middle of the room, his palms rubbing against each other. She saw the fear on his face as he howled, What are we going to do?

I am going to get the hell out of here, she snapped, and youd better get downstairs and come up with something bloody good!

But how? he began plaintively. Ignoring him, Patsy carried her clothes into the bathroom and slammed the door.

She leant back against the blue tiles, her fingers barely able to turn her skirt the right way out. Shakily, she picked up her mobile phone and scrolled through for the right number, pressing the send button, holding her breath as she heard ringing at the other end.

She felt a rush of relief as it was answered immediately. Get M! I need her. Its all gone wrong. Im here and

Patsy threw back her head in frustration as she was interrupted.

What?? Her voice shot up several octaves, What do you mean? You know very well what Im talking about! This is Patsy. Patsy King.

Christ! These bloody trainees. In her panic shed forgotten. She took a deep breath and started again, her voice icy.

Mrs K here. Calling for assistance. Red Alert!

Operation Caught-with-your-fucking-trousers-down.

At the other end of the phone, there was a click and another, more familiar, voice spoke quietly and calmly. Control. Where are you?

Right in the shit.0

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