Small Town Siren

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Sam Fleetwood stared at the box of books, and everything inside him stilled.

Well, he admitted, not everything. His cock grew to what felt like an impossible length, but once it had reached its limitation, even that stilled in shocked awe at the bounty that sat before him. Sam knew that if his dick had a face, it would probably have the same shocked expression on it as the one attached to his head.

After a moment of looking at the books on the top, he managed to find the strength to see what was beneath.

“Holy shit,” he breathed quietly, since he didn’t particularly want anyone to know he was out in the garage pawing through Abby Moore’s belongings. He was supposed to be out here grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge. But damn, he’d wasted weeks of his time.

Sam thought about the moment he’d seen Abigail Moore. He’d heard stories of her wild teen days and knew that there were still members of the small town who considered her a siren leading young men to sin. Even before she’d announced she was coming back, the locals had talked about her. She was legendary. Sam had been very curious about her. He’d sighed as the redhead had bounced out of her old sedan and rushed into Christa Wade’s arms. That hot honey could lead him into sin any time she wanted. His first reaction had been complete, unadulterated lust. Abby was thirty-seven now, but he had a hard time imagining that she’d been sexier as a teenager.

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