Voice Mail Murder - By Patricia Rockwell

Chapter One

“Touchdown!” he growled, a half-smile warming his face and visible to her from the corner of her eye. She felt his breath on her neck and his large hands pressing down on her palms above her head as his nose burrowed into her hair. To her, he was like a big bear and she liked them that way.

With a small effort, she twisted her elbows around, freeing her hands, and suddenly rolled over on top of him, pinning his large muscular body in a similar position that she had just experienced. Now her breath came faster as she straddled him like a cowboy, her long bare legs pressing against the firm skin above his boxers. Sheets twisted around her ankles, and her short silk slip rode up, revealing her upper thighs. As her thick curls bounced, she flung her head back and forth, reveling in her superior position like a rodeo rider on a magnificent stallion, twisting her torso in gyrating rhythms, mocking the man beneath her. The mattress squeaked in response to each movement as the couple bucked up and down, back and forth.

Finally, the woman halted. “Don’t think so, Coach,” she exclaimed suddenly,” with a triumphant laugh. She gave his shoulder muscles a few quick kneads then sat bolt upright, slowly lifting her arms above her head while fluffing her curls in one upward flip as she might toss lettuce in a salad bowl. He watched her and observed her like a trainer watching a glorious lion.

“Come back down here,” he whispered and grabbed her buttocks, letting his fingertips sink into her soft flesh. She bent her face slowly to his as if to kiss him then quickly returned to her upright position.

“Just as long as you realize who’s in charge here,” she smiled down at him as she ran the fingers of one hand across the top of his salt and pepper crew cut.

“You are, doll,” he responded. “I like it when you’re in charge. You know that.” He reached again for her bottom, but the woman had glanced at her wristwatch, oblivious to his touch, and was now rolling effortlessly off the man’s body and over to the side of the bed. She tip-toed to the window and peeked between the blinds at the walkway outside the room.

“Hey, come back here,” he whined, leaning back against his arm, his massive biceps bulging.

“It’s late,” she whispered pointedly, as she sat on the bed beside him. “Look.” She turned to him and pointed at her watch face, arching her eyebrows. “I’ve stayed too long already—and so have you.” She stood up, abruptly changing the level of the old sagging mattress so that the man’s body immediately dropped several inches. He kicked the covers back and pulled his legs around to the side of the bed, sitting beside her.

“But it was worth it, wasn’t it?” He reached around her waist with one arm and fondled a breast beneath the flimsy silk gown. Her skin warmed to his touch.

“Always,” she purred. “Always. I thoroughly enjoy our ‘encounters.’ You know that.”

“Encounters?” he smirked, pulling back and eyeing her suspiciously. “Like of the third kind?”

“Yes,” the woman answered, putting on a matching silk wrap from a chair by the window. “Sex with you is like from some other dimension!” She grabbed his face between her hands, her forehead to his as she breathed the words at him, finishing the titillation with a lick of her tongue.

“So, don’t leave,” he countered, pulling her towards him and leaning backward on the bed.

“Gotta’ go,” she said, cheerily, pulling from his grip, and heading to the bathroom. He rose reluctantly and paddled behind her, his bare feet slapping on the tile floor of the small bathroom area. “Got a busy day,” she continued. “Lots of appointments. You know that.” She stood in front of the mirror and pulled a tube of lipstick and a hairbrush from a designer bag on the countertop. She quickly dabbed on a layer of a bright red color, ran her fingertips deftly over her eyebrows, and flicked a small brush quickly through her mass of lush curls. Then, plopping the items back into the purse, she turned, pressed past him, and headed back into the room.

“Okay, okay,” he replied, following behind her. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumping. “You are quite a dish, you know. You drain me.” He watched her quickly slide into a grey skirt and a lavender silk blouse.

“All the more reason