Don’t we all get little crushes on dudes that are public figures? Movie stars, TV stars, sports figures, even politicians. I get so caught up on certain men that I start basing ALL of my heroes on him. But it’s like I can’t let them go.
Yes, I realize I’m a freak. You don’t need to rub it in.
So are all parents delusional about their children? Or is it just me? 
My daughter had her first day of pre-school last week. I walked her down the street to her school, walking backwards and clicking pictures of her the whole way. Would she cry? Would she step through that door and run to the toys? Would she be the one that helped all the scared children (since she’s one of the older kids).
We get to her class and I’m still clicking away, taking pics with her and her teacher. With her riding the tricycle since they start in the gym. I decide to leave, boldly kiss her and say, “I’m going to leave now, sweetie. I’ll be back around lunch time. Have fun and you be a good girl.” I walk towards the door, holding my breath. Will she scream? Will she cling to my leg? I make it out the door and hear footsteps coming after me. Then, “Mom? Can I play with this ball?” I turn around with relief and nod. “Yes, now go play. See you later.” And I make my escape. 
A fun little scene from one of my favorite movies Super Troopers.
When her roommate, needing a romantic weekend with her boyfriend, bribes her out of the house with use of an isolated cabin, Nikki reluctantly agrees. She didn’t realize the cabin came fully equipped with an uptight, yet incredibly sexy, man.
Chase is looking forward to a quiet weekend alone at his cabin. When he tackles someone who he believes to be an intruder, he’s surprised to find the unusual and sensual woman was given a key to his place.
Stuck together during a snowstorm, the heat from the fire isn’t the only thing heating up the cabin.
EXCERPT
Nikki pulled the car forward and parked it in front of the cabin. She climbed out, dragging the suitcase after her, and stomped up the wooden steps to the door.
Fumbling in her purse, she tried to find the key Shaylee had given her. Damn. It sure was dark. Didn’t people in the boondocks believe in porch lights?
Her fingers closed around the cold metal key, just as a yawn popped her jaw. Bed. That was the only thing on her mind. Screw the s’mores. Those could wait until breakfast.
She unlocked the door and swung it inward, reaching inside the door to find a light switch. Nothing.
Swearing under her breath, she stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind her. There had to be at least one light in this cabin.
Stretching her arms out and squinting—as if narrowed eyes would give her a better chance of seeing anything in the pitch black—she ran her hands over the smooth wooden walls.
No light switch, just more wall. Wall. More wall. Wait, what was that? Something warm, and…hairy?
“What the—” She jerked her hand back, just as arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her off her feet.
The war cry that erupted from whoever was behind her mixed with her terrified screams.
The person—a man, it felt like—held her high against his chest as he crossed the cabin.
“Don’t hurt me! Oh, fuck, please don’t hurt me!” The air rushed from her lungs as she was flung onto a bed or couch. Fear clogged in her throat, and her blood pounded.
She rolled away in an attempt to escape from whoever it was, but he was already on top of her, pinning her hands above her head with a knee on each side of her waist.
Shit! If she got out of this alive, she would beat the crap out of Shaylee. Who the hell sends her friend up to an isolated cabin to get raped?
He transferred her wrists to one hand and lifted himself away a tiny bit. She heard him click on a lamp, and bright light filled the room. She squinted her eyes shut, crying out in pain.
“Who are you? Breaking and entering is illegal in case you didn’t know.”
His voice was rough, raspy, and—God, she was stupid for thinking it—damn sexy.
“Who am I?” she peeked at him through one eye, wondering if the man would match the voice. Yes, unfortunately. “I’m the bitch who’s about to have you arrested.”
Arrested? Was the woman nuts? Chase eyed the woman beneath him warily. She certainly looked a little…different.
Her black hair was in two braids, each one coming to rest just below her chin. Green eyes, rimmed in dark black eyeliner, glared up at him. Her tongue darted out across the lush mouth, tracing over the faded red lipstick stain.
His gaze moved lower to the tight black sweater that hugged full breasts. His cock stirred slightly, and he bit back a groan. Stop looking at her tits. He glanced lower, noting the obscenely tiny black and white plaid skirt that revealed pale white thighs below. Thighs which soon disappeared into knee-high, laced-up black boots.
He shook his head. Christ. Only he would catch a kinky gothic chick trying to break into the cabin he was using for the weekend.
I painted my office purple today. The result is 1) I love my office! and 2) I’m delirious from paint fumes. And, since I’m so loopy, I thought today would be a lovely time to discuss clitoral stimulation. WARNING: 18 AND OVER ONLY BECAUSE THERE IS A NAUGHTY PICTURE AHEAD
After yesterday’s post about Viagra, last week’s post about hoochie coochie waxing, I just don’t know. My poor feeble brain draws a complete blank.
Which has been a problem of late.
I want to start off this post by taking a moment to recognize the tenth birthday of something that changed this country forever.
You are currently browsing the Naughty and Spice Blog weblog archives for September, 2007.
Site designed and Maintained by
Stonecreek Media, Inc
