revealing thick silver hoops the diameter of a Coke can hooked in her ear lobes. “He always wanted to, you know, do it, which was probably easier with the younger girls. I mean, they were dumber and he could talk them into it easier.”
Tanya set her mug down and went on. “In high school, we used to joke about it, but none of us went out with him. Nowadays, if he did some of the stuff he used to, he’d get arrested.” The hairdresser scrunched up her shoulders and giggled. “Or shot.”
Marisa cringed at this new information about her former lover, but had to admit that he did have an appetite for hot sex. She had talked to Tanya about him many times over the past year. If he was such a cad, how could a friend and neighbor not have warned her away from him? Marisa’s memory zoomed backward as she recalled that Woody had made a pass at her the very first time they met. She felt heat rise to her cheeks because she also remembered how flattered she had been at his attention. Dummy, she called herself.
“Tanya, forgodsake,” she said in an equally low tone, “he’s a cop. And a special cop, at that. He wants to be a Texas Ranger.” The epitome of heroism, Marisa didn’t add, doubting if Tanya knew the meaning of the word, “epitome.”
The hairdresser shrugged. “Can I help it how he is?” She made a knowing, but humorless chuckle. “Girl, I could name you a dozen places he’s dipped his wick.” She leaned closer, her shoulder touching Marisa’s. “You want to know something weird? Even with all the stuff I knew about him from school, I did it with him myself a couple of times. I mean, he’s hot, you know? And he’s good.”
A blast of fury exploded within Marisa. A box of plastic wrap lay within sight on a shelf under the back counter. She wanted to grab and wrap it around her head to keep her skull from exploding.
From the corner of Tanya’s eye, a sly look passed Marisa’s way. The woman seemed to be oblivious to the fact that Marisa was on the verge of screaming. “A lot better’n Jake,” she said, “if you know what I mean. Jake’s never made me come half a dozen times in one screwing.” She lifted her mug and drew in a deep breath Marisa could only define as wistful. “Yessir, that Woody knows just where to put it and he can go and go.” Tanya’s hips shifted on the stool.
Marisa could only stare at the woman who appeared to be enjoying something sexual right before her eyes. Good grief. She felt like a voyeur. The last afternoon she and Woody had spent in the tiny apartment bedroom flashed in her memory. The sex had been...well, lengthy as well as hot. And he had made Marisa come several times. At the moment, she hated having that in common with Tanya.
“It’s funny,” Tanya went on, “that everybody calls him Woody? Get it? I know it’s a nickname that’s tied to his last name, but when I first heard it, I thought I’d die laughing.”
Marisa hated herself for wanting to know, but she schooled the anger out of her voice and asked, “And when did you and Woody, um, get together?”
“Oh, it was over ten years ago. Before I hooked up with Jake.”
A feeling of relief almost overcame Marisa’s anger, followed by disgust with herself for being so naive.
A little smirk lifted the corner of Tanya’s mouth. “I always wanted to tell you so we could, you know, compare notes, sort of. I’ve been curious if Woody’s still got it. I mean, he is forty, right?”
As if she had read Marisa’s thoughts, Tanya added, “But I decided not to mention it because it wasn’t important, really. I mean, it was just was one of those things that happened one night. Started with a picnic at the sandhills in Monahans. We were sitting at one of those concrete picnic tables having a few beers, then the next thing I knew, I was perched on the end of it and Woody and I were going at it. Then we did it another night in the front seat of his pickup out in the parking lot at Rustler’s
Tanya set her mug down and went on. “In high school, we used to joke about it, but none of us went out with him. Nowadays, if he did some of the stuff he used to, he’d get arrested.” The hairdresser scrunched up her shoulders and giggled. “Or shot.”
Marisa cringed at this new information about her former lover, but had to admit that he did have an appetite for hot sex. She had talked to Tanya about him many times over the past year. If he was such a cad, how could a friend and neighbor not have warned her away from him? Marisa’s memory zoomed backward as she recalled that Woody had made a pass at her the very first time they met. She felt heat rise to her cheeks because she also remembered how flattered she had been at his attention. Dummy, she called herself.
“Tanya, forgodsake,” she said in an equally low tone, “he’s a cop. And a special cop, at that. He wants to be a Texas Ranger.” The epitome of heroism, Marisa didn’t add, doubting if Tanya knew the meaning of the word, “epitome.”
The hairdresser shrugged. “Can I help it how he is?” She made a knowing, but humorless chuckle. “Girl, I could name you a dozen places he’s dipped his wick.” She leaned closer, her shoulder touching Marisa’s. “You want to know something weird? Even with all the stuff I knew about him from school, I did it with him myself a couple of times. I mean, he’s hot, you know? And he’s good.”
A blast of fury exploded within Marisa. A box of plastic wrap lay within sight on a shelf under the back counter. She wanted to grab and wrap it around her head to keep her skull from exploding.
From the corner of Tanya’s eye, a sly look passed Marisa’s way. The woman seemed to be oblivious to the fact that Marisa was on the verge of screaming. “A lot better’n Jake,” she said, “if you know what I mean. Jake’s never made me come half a dozen times in one screwing.” She lifted her mug and drew in a deep breath Marisa could only define as wistful. “Yessir, that Woody knows just where to put it and he can go and go.” Tanya’s hips shifted on the stool.
Marisa could only stare at the woman who appeared to be enjoying something sexual right before her eyes. Good grief. She felt like a voyeur. The last afternoon she and Woody had spent in the tiny apartment bedroom flashed in her memory. The sex had been...well, lengthy as well as hot. And he had made Marisa come several times. At the moment, she hated having that in common with Tanya.
“It’s funny,” Tanya went on, “that everybody calls him Woody? Get it? I know it’s a nickname that’s tied to his last name, but when I first heard it, I thought I’d die laughing.”
Marisa hated herself for wanting to know, but she schooled the anger out of her voice and asked, “And when did you and Woody, um, get together?”
“Oh, it was over ten years ago. Before I hooked up with Jake.”
A feeling of relief almost overcame Marisa’s anger, followed by disgust with herself for being so naive.
A little smirk lifted the corner of Tanya’s mouth. “I always wanted to tell you so we could, you know, compare notes, sort of. I’ve been curious if Woody’s still got it. I mean, he is forty, right?”
As if she had read Marisa’s thoughts, Tanya added, “But I decided not to mention it because it wasn’t important, really. I mean, it was just was one of those things that happened one night. Started with a picnic at the sandhills in Monahans. We were sitting at one of those concrete picnic tables having a few beers, then the next thing I knew, I was perched on the end of it and Woody and I were going at it. Then we did it another night in the front seat of his pickup out in the parking lot at Rustler’s
Similar Books
