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Excerpt of TEDDI TURNS ON...
Chapter One
David Stiefel’s
eyes kept track of the copper-haired female while he rolled up
the sleeves of his striped shirt. The woman was oblivious to
the stir she created as she strolled through the crowded O’Hare
Airport Business Class Lounge. He stroked an index finger over
his lips and studied her sleek figure in form fitting slacks.
The appealing rear view was too good to miss. The pleasure of
not seeing a panty line forced him to shift in his chair to
adjust for the sudden pull in his jeans.
She bent over,
hung her jacket across the chair back, and glanced over her
shoulder at him. Their gaze held as a smile tweaked the corner
of his mouth. He crumpled the wrappings from his beef sandwich
and knew he’d just been offered dessert. Now all he had to do
was make his move.
As his good
luck would have it, right there on the floor, just a few meters
away was an airline ticket dropped by some unsuspecting person.
Ha, unsuspecting, his Aunt Hilda. He knew that delicious
looking woman had done it as a ploy to meet him.
He stood and
paced off the few steps, never taking his eyes from her. He
stooped, scooped up the packet, and walked the few extra feet
before he glanced at the name printed in bold marker across the
front. When he held it toward her she fumbled with her purse and
carry-on as if she didn’t know she’d lost such an important set
of documents. Very cool.
Standing in
front of her, he leaned down just enough to catch her scent.
Shalimar. His favorite.
“Bitte, Frau,
are you missing something?” He liked the way her eyes widened
as if she were surprised. She was good.
“Thank you.”
She reached out a slender hand. Thank God there wasn’t any of
that garish nail art so many women seemed to prefer.
* * * * *
Teddi stared
out the rain-streaked windows at the busy tarmac. Her mind was
too absorbed with the Munich tour operator, who had done 180
degrees on their contract, to appreciate the parade of jets
taxiing along the horizon or the sexy man who had found her
airline tickets. Sick at heart, she feared this was the end of
her long established company as profits were eaten up by the
extra hours spent to pacify her exasperated clientele. Every
phone call into her busy travel agency had been from an agitated
customer ready to blame her for the radical changes to the
European tour they had paid a hefty dollar to enjoy.
Maybe she’d
better make one last phone call in the hope that damn Bavarian
tour operator, who had been screwing with her head, had finally
grown some balls and decided to do the right thing.
She flipped
open her cell phone and after two rings heard Francine Daniels,
the sovereign of all office managers, answer.
“It’s me,
Francie, any word from Munich?” She held her breath, praying
for good news.
“No, doll, no
word from Fritz the Faker. I took the liberty of calling the
bank. Sorry to add more woe to an already crappy day, but he’s
cashed that big check you insisted on sending him. We’re in a
world of hurt if he doesn’t follow through on his contract.”
“I’m not going
to let this crook get away with it.” The cool front she
presented to the world would not crumble.
“So get going,
Theodora, your flight should be ready to board.”
A familiar
image popped into her mind, Francine with her reading glasses
three-quarters down her nose and the infamous letter opener
waving in her left hand. “Please, I detest that name. It
sounds so, I don’t know, Old World?”
“Well, that’s
where you’re going, kid. I envy you. It would be great to get
away for awhile. Think of all those sexy foreign guys.”
Teddi shook her
head. Men held no interest for her
“Don’t you
think it’s time you took off your ring?” asked Francine.
“No. I
don’t.” She twisted the simple gold band around her finger,
hurt by the insensitive suggestion.
“You’re a
widow. It’s time you stopped hiding out in this office and move
on. Eligible men aren’t falling from the sky.”
“And I don’t
care if they are. Give it up.” Even though Matthew was
dead, in her heart she was still his wife.
“Go on your
trip, relax, get a massage. Have a little fun. Meet a man.
Get laid,” said the irascible Francine. “It’s time, Teddi.
Matthew would want you to be with someone.”
Of course she
missed the intimacy of marriage. The sex had been great and it
sure beat the hell out of aspirin to get rid a headache. She
was so tense and frustrated she’d do just about anything to get
some relief. She closed her eyes, rotated her head, and heard
enough cracks and pops to make her crave a good massage.
The darkened
room and soft music helped her to relax. She stretched out on
the table, shifting just enough to take the pressure off her
nipples. Her arms hung limply over the table edge as she
watched the masseur enter. With the soft snick of the lock, she
realized they were alone. There she was, naked except for the
warm towel draped across the swell of her butt. There he was,
all male and tanned with a white tee shirt stretched across his
rock-hard chest.
A trace of
something spicy floated around her just as his warm hands slid
up her spine. She couldn’t stop the moan that escaped as he
rubbed purposefully to relieve the tension in her shoulders.
Everything felt so good. His slick hands gliding down her
torso, the music, the warm oil, ooh especially those hands as
they took control of her muscles and thoughts. His thumbs
pressed deeper into her tight flesh as his fingers spread across
her back. The warmth skittering over her skin was so intimate
and welcome, reminding her of all that she missed. He pushed
firmer, sliding up, down, and out. His fingers skimmed the side
of her breast. She held her breath. A deep chuckle filled the
room.
“You like?”
“Oh, yes.”
She twisted to relieve the tingling in her nipples, exposing her
breast. His index finger traced her puckered aureole as his
palm massaged her, making her vagina swell.
The towel
dipped as he moved lower and stroked her butt. His long fingers
slid between her cleft, setting off sensations she’d only dreamt
about. Her hips jerked as he moved lower yet. Somehow the
scrap of cloth had disappeared.
He shifted her
legs apart as he caressed her thighs. His fingers delved higher
until they lightly stroked…
“Hello, earth
to Teddi.” Francine jumped right in, shocking her back to the
present. “I’ll see you in a few weeks. I’ll be dying to hear
about all your adventures. And you’d better have some to
report.”
She slammed the
phone closed, wiped her clammy hands down her thighs, and didn’t
give a rat’s ass if the sweat streaked the silk. She’d had
enough and wasn’t going to take any more. Teddi Howard wasn’t a
woman to lie down and pull the casket lid over her own face.
Hell no. She’d face this German screw up and force him to
follow through on their contract or he could personally explain
to forty-seven people why he’d ruined their vacations.
* * * * *
Back at his
chair, David watched her reflection in the window and couldn’t
figure out why she had seized his interest. Sure she had great
tits and a fantastic ass, but he wasn’t a lech. Yet something
about the woman made his cock jump to attention and all decent
thoughts flip right out of his brain.
Obviously she
was enjoying whatever her thoughts were. That sexy little
expression gave her away, but not as much as the slow way she
crossed her legs then squeezed her thighs together. What he
wouldn’t give to be inside her head right now. Or better yet,
inside her. Hot and wet. His two favorite sensations.
The possibility
of being seated next to her on his flight to Germany brought on
a strong desire to join the Mile High Club, an elite group he’d
never before considered. He slid down in the chair, crossed his
legs at the ankles, and explored his fantasy.
The light was
passing into dark as she lifted his hand to her full mouth,
sucking one finger at a time, while her smoldering gaze held
his. His other hand roamed over her thin blouse and pulled it
from her waistband. His fingers brushed her soft skin, inching
up to free her incredible breasts. Soft kitten sounds from deep
in her throat filled his ears, as his thumb and forefinger
pinched and tugged on her engorged nipple.
Her face turned
up, anticipating his kiss. He swiped his tongue over her hot
lips before plunging in, imitating his strongest desire.
He worked her
zipper free, then slid her slacks down over her hips and filled
his hands with her perfect, rounded ass. She kicked off the
restrictive clothes and climbed atop him after freeing his cock
from his painfully tight jeans. Her long legs straddled his
hips. When the heat from her pussy touched the tip of his cock,
he plunged into her, praying for an air pocket to drive him in
deeper, taking his sensation higher. His name was wrenched from
her ripe mouth as he pounded…
“Mr. Stiefel.”
Why in the
hell would she call him mister at a time like this?
“Mr. Stiefel,
your flight for Munich is boarding.” A shrill voice burst into
his perfect daydream, shattering the hot fantasy, but not
crushing the biggest hard-on of his life.
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