A Hot Summer’s Day
Copyright
© 2010 by G.G. Royale
e ISBN: 978-1-892851-59-8
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Author’s Note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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A Hot Summer’s Day
By G.G. Royale
Warning: This story for adults only!
This Story Contains Sexually Explicit Language Including Graphic BDSM/FEMDOM Elements and Scenes.
Published by New Line Press
A Hot Summer’s Day
By G.G. Royale
The temperature gauge read in the red when Bradley pulled his old Dodge into the dusty parking lot of the rundown market and gas station. The highway appeared deserted; no traffic ran in either direction. A cloud of steam rose out of the hood of his truck. He sighed, got out of the truck, and slammed the door behind him.
God, it’s hot. Must be over 100, he thought to himself. He could feel the shirt on his back, wet with sweat, becoming stiff as the air leached every bit of moisture off of him. Bradley moved slowly toward the market and stood in the shade under the front porch. He looked back at his truck, then turned and entered the store.
Inside it was dark, but stuffy and close. Behind the counter was a girl. Her hair was cropped short and the color of mahogany. Her eyes were clear and green. She wore a sleeveless red and white checked shirt, tied across her breasts, and Levi cutoffs. On her left wrist was a wide leather cuff, laced on with a satin ribbon. Bradley let his eyes stray up and down her body until she cleared her throat.
“Can I help you?” her accent had a subtle Southern lilt to it, which Bradley found intensely attractive. He shook his head and moved off to the drink coolers, conscious of her eyes on his back. He took out a beer and returned to the counter.
“Hot today, huh?” he stammered, nearly dropping the bottle from his numbing fingers onto the counter. She nodded and smiled, indulging him. Brad paid and walked out the front door. He sat down against the front of the building and drank his beer. His truck was in no condition to keep going and the next town was still miles down the road. Bradley finished his beer and set the empty bottle in the dirt at his feet; he let his eyes close as he tried to figure out what to do next.
Behind him, the door of the store opened and the green-eyed girl stepped out, two more beers in her hands. Bradley noticed that her feet were bare, silver anklets heavy around her ankles. She walked across the hot dirt, a soft smile on her lips, and sat down next to him. The girl handed him one of the beers.
“Thought you could use another,” she offered up her own in a toast and they clinked bottles. “Trouble with the truck?”
Bradley nodded and explained his problem. As she leaned forward and listened intently, Bradley let his eyes move about the slightly exposed swell of her breasts that strained against the gingham of her blouse. When he was done with his story, she took a thoughtful sip of her beer and nodded sympathetically.
“My uncle has a garage not far from here. He drives a tow truck, too. We can go to my house and call him on the CB,” the girl suggested. Bradley couldn’t believe his luck, that this gorgeous creature sitting next to him wanted to help out and she wanted him to come to her house. “He’ll get you fixed up all right. Come on.”
She stood and went back into the store, Bradley following. Behind him she locked the door and hung a “will return at” plastic clock in the window with the hands set for two o’clock, nearly three hours hence. Bradley didn’t think that it would to take that long to call, but he didn’t ask any questions. She led him by the hand out the back door and across a dusty lot to a small house. The heat off the ground didn’t seem to bother her as she stepped slowly and deliberately to the porch of her house.