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  Satisfy Me

  Madison Scott

  (c) 2009

  ISBN 978-1-59578-546-6

  Satisfy Me

  Madison Scott

  Published 2009

  ISBN 978-1-59578-546-6

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2009, Madison Scott. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books

  http://LSbooks.com

  Email:

  [email protected]

  Editor

  Ansley Blackstock

  Cover Artist

  Anne Cain

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  “I’m not talking to you, lady. Ghosts do not exist.” Tyson Malone rolled over in his king-sized bed trying to ignore the apparition sitting in a dark corner of his room. It wasn’t working. She’d shown up two nights in a row now. The first he managed to ignore her. Tonight she babbled so much pretending she wasn’t sitting in his room wasn’t an option and it was starting to piss him off.

  He hadn’t believed in ghosts since he was a snot-nosed six-year-old boy. Seeing one now at thirty-five wasn’t comforting. The way he saw it, it was a fast track to a padded room. Not his idea of a good time.

  “If you don’t believe in ghosts why are you talking to me? I mean, if I don’t exist that means you’re talking to yourself.”

  Another check on his ‘I’m going crazy’ list. “Point made.” Grabbing the extra pillow on his bed, Ty covered his face trying to block her out. The Southern Oregon sun must have shone a little too bright on the construction site the past two days. It affected his brain with visions of a seventy year old woman with orange hair and a sarcastic attitude.

  A good night sleep, that was all he needed. In the morning he’d realize this had all been a really fucked up dream. @@One I’ve had two nights in a row but hey, who’s counting?##

  “You can’t get rid of me that easy, Sugar Lips.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Ty jumped up. “What are you doing in my bed?” Normally he had no problems sharing his bed with a woman, well, except for the last few months at least. This however, he had a problem with. Elderly and transparent just didn’t do it for him.

  She winked at him. “Did I scare you, Sugar Lips?”

  “No. You’re annoying me. Don’t call me sugar lips again.” He paced his room, all of a sudden feeling much on display in just a pair of boxers. Hitting the light switch he hoped the illumination would make her disappear. No such luck. What a crazy fucking night. “Why am I even talking to you? You can’t be real,” Ty mumbled while his brain tried to wrap around what was happening.

  “Well, Sugar, if I’m not real then you won’t mind sharing a bed with me.” The ghostly figure patted his navy blue sheet. “Go ahead and climb back in. It’s been a while since I shared a bed with a man and you’re a mighty fine one if I do say so myself.”

  @@Holy shit##. The elderly ghost lay on his bed shooting him a come-hither stare while flirting with him. This couldn’t be happening. “I asked you to quit calling me Sugar.”

  She gave him a wicked laugh. “No, you asked me to quit calling you sugar lips, not sugar.”

  “Quit calling me anything!” Ty bellowed. Good God, he couldn’t believe this. Was he dreaming? Going crazy? Freaking out due to sexual frustration? “Shit.” He’d withheld too long. That had to be it. Ever since his sexy new neighbor, Maggie Jacobson, moved in next door he hadn’t taken another woman to bed. He didn’t know what it was about her, but he wanted her— her curvy hips, full breasts, and the plump pink lips that he’d imagined sliding down his cock on more than one lonely night. No one else would do.

  Hence the sexual frustration.

  One conversation with her and he realized taking her to bed would be the biggest mistake of his life. The sweet little florist had marriage written all over her.

  Ty didn’t do marriage.

  “Don’t you know how to say please?” Casper snapped him from his thoughts. “Being polite will get you much farther than the nasty attitude you have right now.”

  Ty plopped down in the chair she vacated earlier, his muscles stiff with frustration. This had to be the strangest thing that ever happened to him. He hated bending to her request but he hated her taking up residence in his bed even more. “Please stop calling me any endearments, especially any with the word ‘sugar’ in it. And will you please leave my bed or, better yet, my house?” He gritted out with a clinched jaw.

  “You’re right about the name. You’re more sin than sugar anyway, aren’t you?”

  He glared at her.

  The ghost let out a frustrated sigh. “I can see you’re going to be much too difficult to listen to reason tonight. So I’ll go—”

  Ty stood up and clapped his hands together. “Hallelujah.”

  The mischievous glint in her eyes told him he wasn’t going to like what she said next. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Until then, I want you to think of a woman you’d much rather share your bed with. I don’t know … maybe a sweet auburn haired beauty?”

  Ty’s brow crinkled. The only auburn haired beauty he knew was Maggie. How the hell did she know about her? Better yet, how did she know she had him rock-hard for three long months?

  Obviously she wasn’t the only transparent person in the room.

  Rubbing her hands together Casper said, “Oh, goody, I can see you know exactly who I’m talking about.”

  In an instant Ty straightened his face. The last thing he wanted was for her to know anymore about him than she already seemed to. “I thought you were leaving.”

  “Tsk. Tsk. Is that any way to treat a guest in your home?”

  “Pfft. You aren’t a guest. You’re a trespasser.”

  “You don’t know how to have any fun. Goodnight, lover boy. I know I’m memorable but try and think about Maggie and not me when you close those sexy dark brown eyes. I’ll be back tomorrow night to chat.” She winked and disappeared.

  Yeah, like he needed any help thinking about Maggie. If he wasn’t afraid his little visitor would show back up, he’d take out his cock and relieve the pent up desire he had just thinking her name. The woman got to him, which in turn pissed him off. He had made sure not to let a woman get to him in a long time. Now wasn’t the time to start. Especially with Maggie. Marriage kind of woman or not, she’d end up like all the rest.

  Ty stomped into his living room and stretched out on his couch. He wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. He’d have a hard-on all night long thinking about Maggie and who the hell knew, Casper might show back up and decide to do something about it. He couldn’t be responsible for his actions if he woke up to a clear, wrinkled hand fondling him in the middle of the night.

  * * * *

  “Hey Ethan, do you believe in ghosts?” Ty felt like an ass asking his brother about ghosts. In fact, he couldn’t believe he did but the past two nights just wouldn’t leave his mind. They hung over his head like a dark rain cloud on the construction site all day long.

  “Ghosts?” Ethan cocked a brow at him before taking a bite of his hamburger. They sat in a little café smack dab in the middle of Silver City, where Malone Construction was building a new library. Just eight miles north sat Last Chance, the town they’d lived in since birth. M
ountains surrounded both the towns, with lush green scenery. “Why the hell are you asking me about ghosts? Is my big bro afraid of the boogie man?”

  Leave it to Ethan to make him feel more like a heel than he already did. He had the sharpest tongue of the three brothers; he took everything with a grain of salt. Ty kept to himself a little more, was a little more serious and Shane liked to stir up trouble. He wasn’t a bad guy. He just didn’t like to follow the rules or do anything the easy way. “Answer the question, will ya?” @@Should have left it alone, man. Forget the last two nights ever happened.

  ##“Well, I didn’t but that Jennifer Hewitt chick on that Ghost Whisperer show is pretty hot. She made a believer out of me.”

  Ty pushed his plate to the side. “Jesus, forget I asked.” More like he wanted to forget he asked. He held up his hand to indicate to the waitress that he wanted their check.

  “I’m kidding, Ty. Sure, I guess I believe in ghosts. I mean, I never really thought about it before. Why do you ask?”

  @@Well hell##. Now he really did it. What should he tell him? No way could he tell him the truth. Ethan would haul his ass off to the loony bin. If he could have kept his mouth shut just a few hours longer he could head home, pull out his fishing pole, and relax on the river that flowed right through the middle of his hometown. Maybe that was all he needed. A day to clear his head and all this ghost crap would drift down the river. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

  “Yeah right. My stable, serious brother starts talking about ghosts out of nowhere and I’m supposed to forget it happened? Try again.”

  “Your stable, serious, @@older## brother. Don’t forget that part.” The waitress handed them their check. Ty stood up and walked to the register. He paid before heading out to his truck.

  “Now I’m even more curious.” Ethan walked just a few feet behind him.

  “Drop it.” They climbed into the work truck.

  “Alright, jokes aside, what’s with the ghost talk?” Ethan’s voice held a serious, concerned edge.

  Ty pushed a heavy breath from his lungs, started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. At least Shane hadn’t joined them today. This would be worse if he had to do it in front of both his brothers. Still, he didn’t know how much to tell him. “I had a really vivid dream the past two nights. A female ghost—the same one—both nights appeared in my bedroom.”

  “Sounds like you need to get laid to me.”

  Leave it to Ethan to make a joke out of the situation.

  “She’s old, you asshole. It’s not a sexual kind of thing.” Well at least not on his part but he didn’t want to tell his brother that.

  “Well if it’s a dream then why are you so worried about it? Just roll over and go back to sleep. I’m sure you’ll stop dreaming about her eventually.”

  @@Yeah, right##. Casper wouldn’t be ignored. For all he knew, she might try and cop a feel while he slept. Transparent or not, Ty didn’t want the woman’s hands on him. The thought almost made him laugh. A flirtatious ghost had him freaked out to sleep in his own bed. This whole situation couldn’t be more fucked up. All he knew to do was hope like hell she didn’t come back tonight. “Maybe you’re right. I’m sure I just had a couple bad nights.” Ty pulled into their job site parking lot and shut off the engine.

  As they each headed their separate ways, Ethan straight back to the job and Ty into the trailer to make a few work related calls before he joined the crew, his brother turned to him and said, “What I don’t understand is, if you think it’s just a dream, why did you ask me if I believe in ghosts?”

  * * * *

  Ty took a left on Foothill Boulevard. The drive home to Last Chance took him fifteen minutes and he’d fretted like a damn woman the whole time. He had a crazy ghost, and a virginal neighbor who he wanted nothing more than to lay on his bed and fuck the sweetness right out of, fighting in his mind for attention. Why had she moved in next door to him? Why the hell did he want her so bad? Sure she was cute, but not the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her red hair curled at her shoulders, framing her slightly rounded, heart-shaped face. She wasn’t overweight, just full, womanly … soft.

  Not that he should be able to tell how soft she was by the clothes she wore. It’s like she wanted to divert attention away from her assets by wearing long skirts and over-sized shirts. Technically they weren’t too big for her but considering he wanted an eyeful at what hid beneath, they were too much for Ty.

  What got him the most were her eyes. They were a fierce, sharp green that opened like windows to the feisty wanton he had a feeling lived beneath the shell of the sweet innocent woman. He couldn’t let himself be the one to crack it. Not when all he wanted was one, maybe two wild nights in the sack.

  Just because a woman wanted hot sex—and by the look in her eyes he thought she did—didn’t mean she could draw the line between sex and love. Maggie wanted love. Ty could give her the sex but not the love, so he had to keep the big guy locked away, no matter how hard he got for her.

  As soon as he rounded the corner to turn into his driveway Ty cursed. Maggie sat in a chair on her front porch beneath a wide, light green umbrella. For the first time he got a look at her lush, ivory legs. They rested on the chair across from her, her skirt slipping, giving him a peep show at the thighs he’d imagined wrapped around his hips many nights. In her hands she held a book, probably one of those damn romance novels he always saw her with. The wind blew through her curls as they floated around her face making her look sexy and carefree. So not who he needed to see today.

  His truck tires crunched on the rocks. As they did, Maggie’s eyes darted toward him. She held his gaze while Ty killed the engine. Her pink tongue slipped from her parted lips, running the length of them before tucking back into her mouth. Then she smiled that sweet smile that made him rock-hard with desire. “Holy shit.” No way could he ignore her right now. Not with those legs showing, not with the look of desire in her eyes. It wasn’t even an option.

  *

  Good Lord, it should be illegal to be as gorgeous as Tyson Malone. In all her twenty-nine years, Maggie never knew lust until she moved into the small river town, right next to six feet, some odd inches of masculinity personified. He had the exact same shade of chestnut colored hair and eyes. Thick, dark, lashes framed his intense eyes that bore into her like he was searching for something, like he saw through her, to the deepest part of herself that she’d never let free. Like he understood her, despite the fact that he knew nothing about her.

  @@Yeah right, Mags. You wish##.

  The slamming of his truck door made her heart jump. Instead of heading toward his white, two-story home, Tyson walked straight toward her. Remembering the journal in her hand, she made a quick movement to push it under the cushion on the chair beside her.

  “Hey, neighbor.”

  Maggie lifted her feet from the third chair hoping he sat there instead of on top of the book she didn’t want him to see her reading. He did. “Hi, yourself.”

  “Reading about long-lost loves and happily ever after?” He tilted his head toward the chair that held her book.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s crap if you ask me.”

  @@Hm, what a surprise##. A gorgeous, cocky man who doesn’t believe in love. “I didn’t.”

  “Feisty today, are we?”

  “Not at all, I just disagree with you.”

  Fear danced in his eyes before Tyson’s gaze quickly dropped to her feet. Maggie crossed her legs throwing up a quick thank you to God that she’d given herself an impromptu pedicure the night before. When she slid her legs back, her skirt rode up revealing her left calf.

  “Is that a tattoo?” He shook his head as if shocked by the tiny red heart marking on her leg.

  “Yeah. That was my ‘wild’ moment. I got it right before I moved here.”

  “Well I’ll be damned.” His mouth curled into a grin before Ty picked up her foot and put it on his lap. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

>   “I didn’t either,” she answered honestly.

  “Of course I would have gotten something a little cooler than a heart.”

  Pushing her skirt up to her thigh he ran his callused hand over her tattoo. She couldn’t think. “Of course.” Hot lust surged through her body with his touch. These were the hands of a man. Peter, her ex, had hands just as smooth as her own. They never ignited the kind of fire that this simple touch from Tyson did.

  “You have sexy legs, Maggie. You should show them more often.” His hand traced the lines of the small tattoo on her leg.

  Her heart thudded like a herd of elephants in her chest. A wetness pooled between her thighs, her nipples puckered to attention underneath her cotton bra. Heavy breaths heaved from her lungs. “I—”

  “I love a woman’s smooth skin. You’re so soft.” His hand rose higher, tickling her as they skirted back down her leg.

  She couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe the man she’d fantasized about touched her like this. “Tyson.”

  “Mm, breathless too. So fucking hot, Maggie.”

  His words yanked her from her lust induced stupor. “You think I’m hot?” Looking up she locked eyes with him. No guy ever called her hot before. Not even Peter. They dated three years and he’d never uttered any words to her like Tyson just had. Molten desire built in her body oozing out her pores. “Do you really think I’m hot?”

  “Too hot.”

  His gruff voice surprised her as his hand stopped moving. Had she said something wrong? He eased her foot from his lap and stood up.

  “I need to get going.”

  Yep, she definitely said something wrong.

  He took her stairs two at a time obviously in a hurry to get away from her. “Goodbye Tyson.”

  He didn’t even reply. Just kept on walking.

  * * * *

  Two AM. Maggie lay in bed reading her grandmother’s journal for the umpteenth time since she got it about four months before. Her grandmother had Maggie’s mom late in life and passed away before she had the chance to meet her. Her mom hadn’t talked about Grandma while she grew up. Maggie never knew much about her. Then when her own mother was diagnosed with cancer and died a short six months later, she’d left the journal for Maggie.