Southern Hearts by Katie P. Moore Read Free Book Online

reach out and fondle her. I wanted to put my hand on her leg, to feel the softness of it.
    “I decided to go to Louisiana State instead.”
    “What did you get your degree in?” I asked.
    “Horticulture. I wanted to be able to increase the productiveness of my dad’s business.” She confided, “He isn’t very appreciative of natural soils and composts, though. I’m still working on molding him toward that thinking. He’s pretty dedicated to phosphoric compound.” She laughed. “He’s not much on organic.”
    I smiled.
    “Do you want to take this barge for a sail? It’s exhilarating if you’ve never been,” Regee said, standing. She stepped over the cabin and pulled the anchor from the port side, then spun the wheel wildly until the boat turned sharply to one side. “Grab the cord over your head and give it a hard yank,” she directed. “Pull it until it’s tight and then tie it around the pulley next to you.”
    The sail swung forward and the boat swayed into a pronounced lean onto its side. I pulled myself to my feet by the jib only to slip onto my butt and slide across the deck until I was at Regee’s feet.
    She laughed loudly, twirling the wheel in the opposite direction as the boat leveled. She put her hand under my arm and propped me up. “Sorry,” she said with an unconvincing smirk.
    “Oh, no problem.” I ran my palm over my hair, nervously combing it from my face. The boat jerked, and she fell back into my lap and I into the padded seating at the stern. Regee was facing me, her hands between my legs as she slumped over me.
    “Are you supposed to be my treasure from the sea?” I asked with an uncomfortable grin. I put my palm onto her thigh, bracing her.
    It was my moment, I contemplated what to do. I didn’t even know her—was she gay, straight? I had thought I was picking something up from her, a transmission if you will, but I was unsure. I could act on my impulse and find my lifeless body flung overboard for the fish to devour. I could walk away with a handprint permanently over my cheek.
    I took a deep breath, my pulse pounding in my neck, my lungs pulling tight and constricting. I leaned forward, put my hand behind her head, and bent her toward me. I put my lips to hers, letting out a sigh, then brought her hips closer to mine with an urgent yank. She put her hands around my waist and slipped them up under my bra, pulling it up and over my head with one movement. I raked my hand down the front of her shorts, unbuttoning them while she stroked her long nails through my hair and into my scalp. My breathing labored as she dropped me down onto my back, bracing my thigh over her shoulder as she pulled my shorts down over my legs and down my calves. Then she put her hand over my chin, caressing it and making me moan.
    I jerked her slender frame closer into mine, gripping her breast firmly between my lips and tickling it with my tongue, then tracing its outline until she cried out. I pushed her farther up on me, and as she thrust her fingers into me, I thrust mine into her, and we pressed to one another as we came.
    The moment passed almost as instantaneously as it had arisen, and we were silent. The only sounds were the clank of the buoys that dangled from the boat’s side, the whistle of wind cutting through the leaves and rustling the bark, and the distant hum from the f current just beyond Blanche Bay out along the Gulf of Mexico.

Chapter Four

    I thought of little else but Regee over the next two weeks, and every day paled next to the lust of passion that had transformed me the day on her boat. I was finally pulled out of my reverie by the chime of the doorbell.
    “Hello, Mrs. Trusdor.” Pulling open the door with one sweep, I waved my hand to direct her inside.
    AnnLou Trusdor was popularly known as the elderly Napoleon of Louisiana. I had met her only once, but the strong odor of Obsession that she always bathed herself in stung the inside of my nose and made her difficult to