Free Hot Coco by Cindy McDonald

really do, Margie.”
    Margie was unsure if the gorgeous goddess was offering a pity compliment or if she was sincere. It didn’t matter. Her generous words filled her with a moment of rare replete.
    What a lousy night. Mike drug his weary body from his pickup and shuffled across the stone patio to the kitchen door. He was feeling used, abused, and well spent. The image of Coco’s mare sitting in the starting gate went round and round in his mind. The image of Coco naked in his bed? Not happening. He was absolutely sure that there would be a forgive and forget scenario involved somewhere in this disaster.
    “Hi, Mike. How did it go tonight?” Coco’s tender voice jolted him to attention. There she was in that little, black have-hot-sex-with-me-now dress. She was thankful that she had caught him. After her debacle in the parking lot, Coco had rushed home to change into something more … alluring than Margie’s barn clothes.
    Feeling a bit flushed and noticing Mike’s apprehension, she decided he might need a little encouragment after their last dinner date. “I won’t go near your stove and you can pour.” Smiling, she held up a bottle of wine. She lowered her voice to an inviting, sultry murmur. “I want to make-up for the other night.”
    She tenderly raked her fingers through his hair, down his neck, and across his square jaw. She pressed her mouth against his and let her tongue caress his lips before she pulled away.
    After all the calamities, he wanted to tell her he was too tired, that he was a coward and wary to even go inside the house with her; but before he could muster the words, she took him by the hand and guided him through the door. She had a “do things to me” look in her eyes. He was rendered helpless.
    She led him through his small kitchen with oak cabinetry, a bistro-style table and chairs beneath an arched window that looked out over the white barns with blue tin roofs and white fences. “Cute kitchen, it makes me want to bake cookies.” When he pitched a warning look, she giggled. “Teasing—I’m teasing.”
    She found his living room with the stone fireplace. A s imple décor for the gorgeous, gentlemanly cowboy. She pulled him down onto the sofa.
    Mike was beyond helping himself. The way she tugged at his shirt with the look in those blue eyes, and the passion in her kisses on his mouth and neck while she unzipped his Levis had him forgetting how tired he was, his trashed trailer, the burnt kitchen, and her flipping/flopping horses. It was time to sit-back, relax, and let the “trainer with benefits” package finally kick-in. It’s about damned time.
    His strong hands gently smoothed down her neck, and over her shoulders and luscious firm breasts. He looked into her enticing eyes while he slipped the dress from her shoulders to expose the sexy black satin and lace bra. Her hand slipped inside his jeans to stroke the hard length of him.
    Bang!
    Bang!
    Bang!
    Their heads jerked toward the kitchen. Someone was knocking on the screen door.
    Seriously?
    “Michael, are you in there? Hello ...” Ava’s voice carried through the house.
    Mike’s head dropped to his chest. What the hell is she doing here? boomed through his brain .
    Hastily , Coco pulled her dress back into position. “Who is that?”
    It didn’t matter. Ava stepped through the threshold of the kitchen, and was now standing in the living room.
    Pulling his jeans together, he could see in Coco’s eyes that something was amiss. He was afraid to look, but he had to. Slowly, he turned toward Ava.
    “Oh, I’m sorry, Michael. I didn’t know you had company.” Looking like red-hot desire, Ava was dressed in the exact same little, black have-your-way-with-me-now dress that Coco was wearing. There she stood with her auburn hair draped over her shoulders. He felt like he was about to star in a very bad porn flick.
    That wasn’t happening—not in this life anyway. He knew Ava.

    “What’s going on, Ava?” Suspicion