Hog Wild

He’s just a kid, but he’s got a bitchin’ bike. That had been Lula’s thought when she walked up his sandy driveway. Now, standing over him, smiling down into this round, boyish face, with its snub nose and chestnut hair falling into sexy blue eyes, heat stirred between her thighs. Not that she would change her course, but perhaps she would be a bit more—gentle when the time came.

“Can we go inside?” With studied practice, she licked her lips and curled them into a smile. And was rewarded with a look of absolute lust. More like a dog with its tongue hanging out than a pig. No matter. Lula offered her hand to the boy and pulled him to his feet. She was surprised at his height—six feet at least, may six one. Height didn’t matter, though length certainly did. The longer the better for her purposes.

“You’re a tall one.” She let him lead her across the clumps of stubborn grass that clung to life amid a sea of sand toward a faded beige ramshackle trailer. The mobile home looked as though a good wind would blow it into Kansas.

He turned and grinned at her, his pale blue eyes twinkling. “Yes, ma’am. Six one and a half. And more than that in my pants.”

Lula threw back her head and laughed at his audacity. “You got a name, Mr. Six-Foot-One and then some?”

“Beau. Beau Hogue, ma’am.”

“You can call me Lula, Beau.” After climbing three rickety steps, they crossed the threshold and Lula surveyed the dim little den that was Beau’s home. Typical furnishings for a man, cluttered and unkempt. Thank God he took better care of his motorcycle. “Where can I wash up? I got a bit of grease on my hand.” She showed him the smudge she had deliberately smeared along her thumb. “That’s why I asked to come in.”

His face fell seven stories at her words and Lula bit her lip to hide her laughter. She really should not play with him this way. The reckless enthusiasm in his face and certainly his audacious manner made her like him more than the others. And she was curious about the “more than that in my pants” boast. This might turn out more satisfying than she expected.

“Uh, sorry about that.” Beau dropped her hand and pointed towards the kitchen sink, more than half filled with dishes. “You can go right there, ma’am.” He looked her up and down, unmasked regret in his eyes.

“Thanks, Beau, but I was hoping for a bathroom. You know, so I could freshen up.”

“Oh, sure. Right through here.” The boy moved awkwardly past a television in the tiny living room and started down a short, dark hallway. He stepped into the bedroom then turned to open the bathroom door for her. “Here you go, ma’am. I’m sorry it’s so cramped.”

“That’s fine. And it’s Lula, Beau.”

He shot her another big grin. “Right, Lula.”

She raised one sleek eyebrow. “Now you stay right there, okay? I won’t be a minute.”

He looked puzzled, but nodded. Lula stepped into a bathroom about the size of a coffin on end and closed the door. Despite the close quarters, it took only moments to prepare for the onslaught. Not that she thought it would be a difficult conquest. Assuming a seductive smile, Lula turned the knob and stepped out.