Every good girl longs for a chance to be a little naughty.
Raw from an ugly divorce and wrung out from her demanding job, Haley Thorne needs a break. When Haley's doctor urges her to take a vacation, she heads to her secret cabin in the woods.
The very first night, Haley dreams of an erotic threesome that leaves her panting and aroused. When sexy police detective Jeremy Pickett shows up at her door, she's shocked: He looks like the man in her midnight fantasy! Levelheaded Haley unleashes her inner seductress and has a little fun--handcuffs and all!
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February 27, 2007
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Excerpt from Haley's Cabin by Anne Rainey
Jeremy walked for what felt like miles, sweat dripping down his spine, his T-shirt sticking to his ribs, cursing his brother's shitty advice every step of the way. Then it appeared, like a beacon of light. Not his brother's cabin, but a smaller log house that sat off the road, and it was beautiful.
"Civilization!" he moaned in relief. "If they have water, I'll kiss their blessed feet. If they have a phone, I'll think I've died and gone to heaven." His mouth was dirt dry, and he was starting to wonder just how long a person could go before dehydration or sunstroke set in.
As he stepped off the gravel and onto the cool grass, Jeremy realized his shoes were ruined. The melting tar had done a real number, and bits of rocks and grass stuck to the soles. "Brad, so help me, when I get my hands on you..." Jeremy let the sentence trail off and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw what had to be a mirage.
She was sunning herself and she was so fucking sexy it hurt. Even from a distance it was clear she had a sweet little hourglass shape. Now he knew he was delirious. No way would a babe like that be way out in this neck of the woods.
Jeremy was rooted to the spot as the vision in the white bikini rose to a sitting position, stretched like a lazy cat and turned over. Now he stared at her ass.
"Damn," he mumbled. "Brad, you're a friggin' genius, bro." Maybe the weekend wasn't a lost cause after all.
Jeremy started across the yard, impatient to get closer to the enticing creature, but slowed as he approached the porch. He didn't want to scare the lady half to death. He had to admit, even as his tongue started to take on the texture of sandpaper, he wasn't nearly as concerned about getting to a phone or water anymore.
Once he was within a few feet of the porch, he could see her face was turned away from him and he took advantage, letting his gaze wander.
Her body wasn't darkly tanned, but more the color of honey with a slight redness at the tops of her shoulders. Her hair was swept into a messy pile on top of her head. Little brown curls had escaped and were scattered around her nape. That wasn't what had him as hard as a railroad spike, however. It was the tiny white suit she wore. It had those little ties at the hips, just daring a man to pull the string and find the treasures beneath. Jeremy stopped his perusal, wishing like hell he could stop his raging boner, and cleared his throat. That got her attention. She fairly jumped ten feet in the air.
"Whoa, easy there, honey. No need to get all rattled," he said, trying to look charming. He probably looked more like a prison escapee with his hair and clothes a sweaty mess.
"I promise, I'm not a serial killer. I just, well, I broke down and I'm really hoping you might have a nice, cold drink of something. Of anything. Because, damn, I'm thirsty." He left off the part about the phone.
She stared, wide-eyed and nervous, and started to look a little pale. It was as if she'd seen a ghost or something. He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. It was hot from the sun and slippery from the oil she'd rubbed all over. A mental picture of her rubbing herself down sprang to mind. Which, of course, caused his dick to spring readily to life. Down, boy.
"You okay?" Jeremy asked. "You're white as a sheet." He frowned, wondering if she'd gotten too much sun. That quickly, his own troubles fled as concern for this strange beauty grew. "Maybe you ought to get inside where it's cooler. You aren't looking so good."
She blinked and appeared to give herself a mental shake. Jeremy sighed with relief.
"My name's Jeremy Pickett, by the way. Sorry if I startled you."
"No, um, you looked familiar is all. Like someone I know," she explained, sounding sort of husky. Her voice had a deeper pitch, as if she'd just woken up. Christ, even her voice was sexy.
"He must not be anyone you want to see again, considering the look of sheer panic on your face just a few seconds ago."
"Who?" she asked, still staring at him as if she wasn't sure if he was there or not. His eyebrows rose inquiringly. Maybe she was in worse need of a cold drink than he.
"Oh, right!" she exclaimed, finally grasping the thread of the conversation. "Well, actually he's not real."
What was that supposed to mean? Jeremy wondered. Not real?
She looked at him from head to toe. "What on earth happened to you?"
Jeremy smiled. "Unfortunately, my car broke down and I walked for awhile. Yours is the first house I've come to." He offered her a friendly wink and was pleased when she smiled at last. Then a nasty thought wiggled into his mind, ruining the blissful moment.
"So, you alone out here?" he asked, wondering if there was a husband around. The beauty stopped smiling and the startled look returned. Damn his big mouth anyway.
"I swear I'm not a crazy person or anything," he clarified as he offered his hands up in mock surrender. "I just wondered if there was a Mister in the cabin who would greet me with a shotgun or something."
She seemed to become aware of how much skin she was showing, because she bent down and grabbed the towel she'd laid on. She wrapped it around her lower half, and Jeremy agonized over women and their silly sense of modesty.
"Well, you can relax, there's no shotgun and I'm not married." She snorted. "Not anymore, anyway." She glanced back at the cabin and said, "I live in the city. I'm just staying here for the weekend." She stood and held out her hand, finally allowing the smile to slip back into place. "I'm Haley Thorne."
He readily took her hand, wanting to touch her again. Even if it was just an affable handshake, it was better than nothing. Unfortunately, the touch was brief as she released him and moved toward the screen door. Swinging it wide, she told him, "And I do happen to have bottled water, iced tea and cola. So, what's your pleasure, Jeremy Pickett?" She grinned teasingly at him.
Oh, hell, yeah. Jeremy would dearly love to show little Haley Thorne what his pleasure was.