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picture of the
Indian god playing in her head. Hopefully all three would spark her
imagination. Surely she’d get something written during her time on the island.
    She found a thermos when she looked through
the kitchen cupboards. Filling it, she carried a fruit plate, a cup and the
thermos of coffee out to the table. Settling in, she picked up the first book.
The title suggested they could teach her to satisfy a man every time and the
premise certainly interested her.
    The book lost her in the forward, starting
with the second paragraph. You have got to be kidding. The author of the
book felt that the only reason men strayed from their wives, was because those
wives didn’t spend enough time paying attention to their husband’s penis. No
one really believed that, did they? The book went on, full of recriminations
against women and their lack of worship of their husband’s sex organ. She
stopped in dumbfounded disbelief and flipped the book cover over. A woman. A
woman actually wrote this book…obviously an insane woman. Several hours and
swear words later, in a fit of gaping disbelief, she’d read the thing from
cover to cover.
    She found herself wishing the author had
been Lorena Bobbitt. At least it would have put an interesting spin on things.
Ms. Bobbit would have done a better job. The ending paragraph, with similar
claptrap about creating a pleasure bond “as long as you both shall live”, made
her scream in frustration and start mentally planning a bonfire. She threw the
book overhand as hard as she could toward the beach—and hit Gray Hawk right smack
in the middle of his chest.
    “Umph!”
    “Oh, hell! What are you doing here?” she
grumbled.
    He looked at her in astonishment, wondering
at the look of disgust and anger on her face. Then he bent to pick up the book
from the sand.
    “Give me that!” she said as she lunged down
the stairs to grab it away from him.
    He moved fast, reaching his hand above his
head and arching his neck, he scanned the title. “Whoa. Interesting reading.”
    “It is not. It’s disgusting. Give it back
to me! You are not going to rob me of the pleasure of burning it,” she shouted
as she hopped around him trying to grab hold of the book.
    He stopped her fanatical dance by simply
placing one hand on top of her head and straightening his arm, pushing her back
and holding firm. At his rumbling chuckle, she realized she looked ridiculous
wind milling her arms around him and screeching like a lunatic.
    “Fine!” Spitting the word out between
clenched teeth, she moved back and crossed her arms over her chest in
irritation. “You can have it.” Spinning on her heels, she stormed up the steps
and slammed into the house, making sure to shut and lock the door behind her.
    Silence.
    Joey groaned when she realized she’d locked
him out on the porch with not only that book, but with several other sex
manuals strewn over the patio table. And her laptop was out there with one of
her manuscripts open. She didn’t want to think about him coming to his own
conclusions about why she had all of these sex books on the table. Her face
blazed with embarrassment. Why me ?
    Opening the door, she stuck her head out.
Gray sat comfortably sprawled in a chair, eating her fruit and drinking her
coffee. Damn the man. He shuffled pages of the book she’d thrown—speed-reading.
Sighing, she croaked out, “You really don’t want to read that.”
    He lifted his head, snagged her gaze and
grinned like a small boy caught reading dad’s Playboy . “Oh, yeah I do.
But not for the reasons you seem to think. This is ridiculous. Not that I don’t
want someone paying attention to my penis…but I take exception to what she said
about men being able to stand naked on the porch and a slight wind giving them
an orgasm. It takes a little more than effort.” Not much, he thought as he
watched her. Just the sight of her standing in the doorway flushed and with
hair falling in a wild tangle from her ponytail