Jamie Carter's husband Michael was upset with her. She could hear the edge in his voice over the phone, even though the loud country music blaring from the jukebox in the diner made it difficult to make out all the words. She pressed the phone to one ear and covered the other, trying to block out the noise.
"...told you that the Mazda wouldn't make that trip," Michael said. "Where are you?"
"About a hundred fifty miles from Greenleaf," she said. "The car needs a new axle and the local garage doesn't have one for a 323. They say the parts guy can have it here tomorrow."
"Damn it," Michael snapped. "I'll come get you. Tell me exactlyβ"
"You can't," Jamie said, nodding gratefully as the waitress brought her beer to the booth. "Mom had a doctor's appointment this afternoon. She dropped the boys off with Beth but she can't keep them overnight. You need to get them home. I've booked a room for the night in the motel here."
"Butβ"
"Oh, they'll be excited to spend the evening without sour old Mom interfering with their fun. You three can chase around the house with squirt-guns or something." In fact, one of the few charms Jamie's relationship with her husband still held for her was that he was a great father, very good with their two little guys. Michael was kind of a big kid himself. "Look, change Timmy, feed them both, and put them to bed. How's the breast milk holding out?"
"We've got an ample supply," Michael relented.
"Yeah, I must have expressed a freaking gallon before I left. Look, honey, I'll be fine," she said soothingly.
Not that you thought to ask about that,
she mused to herself.
"I guess it wouldn't make sense for me to drive all the way out there and back tonight and then again tomorrow to get the car," Michael finally conceded.
"No, it wouldn't," Jamie agreed. "Get the kids down by 8:30 and you'll have a rare free evening. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Love ya."
Jamie snapped the phone shut before her husband could answer and dropped it into her purse, then searched around in the bag for her hairbrush. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?" she said.
"Well, you're the hottest thing in this dump by a mile," the big man seated next to her in the little diner booth said quietly. The deep base note of his voice rumbled through Jamie like she was riding a motorcycle.
Jesus, I can feel that in my bra,
she thought as she hastily brushed her perspiration-dampened, long auburn curls up and away from her face using the silver metal of the table napkin dispenser as a makeshift mirror.
"Well, aren't you sweet?" she giggled. She craned her head way back to gaze up into his dark eyes. "Thank you, Darryl. And thank you for rescuing me, back there on the road."
"Hey, it's what every guy who owns a tow truck fantasizes about," Darryl replied. "Rescuing a damsel in distress on the side of the highway."
"Ahh...and how's the fantasy working out so far?" Jamie asked. She took a long swig of beer and scooted closer to him, slouching further down on the upholstered bench seat.
A big, unaffected grin split Darryl's face. "Excellent, so far."
They both laughed. Jamie shuddered from head to toe, but this time her new friend's voice was not the cause. During her phone conversation with Michael, Darryl had reached under the table and had been inching his huge hand up her bare thigh beneath her denim skirt in an unhurried manner. Now he traced a lazy circle over the crotch of her silk panties.
Jamie stretched up to kiss his ear. "Let's pay the bill and get out of here," she whispered.
Ten minutes later they stood facing one another in Jamie's cheap little hotel room...or, rather, Darryl towered over her and looked down into her misty grey eyes as she ran her small hands over his huge bare pecs and washboard stomach. Jamie was still fully dressed but the trucker's tank-top lay discarded on the floor next to his boots and socks. Now her hands moved downward, fumbling with the buckle on his studded leather belt.
"You're such a big guy," she teased as she unzipped his jeans. "Don't disappoint me, now." There was no chance of that, of course, since she'd started feeling up his cock through his jeans as soon as she'd climbed into the truck cab and buckled up.
Still, when she yanked his pants down to his knees, she was more than impressed. She clapped her hands together in glee. "Oh, baby...oh, oh yes." Soft as it was now, Darryl's cock was twice as long as her hand and nearly as big around as her wrist.