Excerpt of Abracadabra by I. R. Plummer

Under her hand, the rock hard shaft throbbed with exhilarating energy.

Riding high on the intoxicating power, Rosemary's feminine core was ready to melt from the pure delight of the boy toy's satisfying hum.

She stoked his ego with encouragement, and took pleasure in testing his boundaries.

When she pushed harder he didn't hesitate.

She purred with pleasure. "Yes, that's it, keep going. Show me what you've got."

Satisfaction blazed through her core.

It was time to ease back, to slow the tempo, to pace the nicely packaged toy.

Instead she smiled with satisfaction when he flew them over the next rise.

A hissing sound grabbed her attention.

Easing back on the pressure, the driving momentum of unleashed energy relieved itself naturally.

She sighed.

Obviously, the boy toy wasn't prepared to meet her demands.

Before the powerful beast reached the posted speed limit, the rancid odor of burnt rubber drifted through the open window.

"Hells bells!" Rosemary ground her teeth and pulled the car onto the shoulder of the narrow two-lane road.

When she popped the hood blue-gray steam mixed with air hotter than a furnace stoked full of blistering coal rolled through the air like storm clouds. Drops of hot rusty water spit out holes in the dead radiator.

"Damn."A drop of sweat trickled between Rosemary's breasts.

She watched a geyser of steam shoot out a long crack in the radiator hose.

A clear, calm baritone voice whispered the finer points of car ownership.

Spinning in a circle she didn't see anything but heat waves dance off the blacktopped road.

The hum of a well-tuned engine caught Rosemary's attention when she heard a door slam.

She glanced around the Mustang's hood.

"Hells bells and damnation!" She muttered.

A five-eleven, hazel-eyed Sidewinder, slithered towards her.

The sleeves of his plaid western shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Faded denim jeans rode low on slim hips. A smattering of freckles, a lazy smile, a tiny chip on a slightly crooked eyetooth and two dimples offered boyish charm. The foolish belief that she'd blown his magnetism out of proportion shattered when her heart scored a perfect ten doing a triple summersault.

"Morning, ma'am." The smooth as molasses Texas drawl purred with seduction.

Starting at pink toenails peeking out of frivolous, low-heeled white sandals Walker checked out the long legs, nicely rounded hips, and an inch of exposed smooth as silk skin at her waist. By the time he reached nicely rounded cleavage peeking out of a V-necked knit top, he was calculating how long it would take to strip the cloths off the lush body.

When his gaze reached her face, Walker stopped dead in his tracks.

"Rosie...what the hell?"

His eyes lost their friendly invitation. The voice lost its lazy Texas drawl.

"What the hell are you doing out here?"

Rosemary clenched her teeth, and sent a creative curse to the universe. Then for good measure, cursed the insistent pitty-pat of her double-crossing heart.

"My name is Rosemary. If you call me Rosie one more time, so help me, you will be singing soprano for the rest of your life."

He laughed.

She crossed her arms and impatiently tapped a foot.

"Retract the claws, Kitten; seems to me you got a problem. In case you haven't noticed, I'm the only one around to help. So, why don't we start this conversation over again?"

"Go to hell."

"It can't be any hotter than standing on this asphalt. You going to tell me why you're here or do I find a creative way to pry it out of you?"

She jutted her chin towards the exposed engine. "Radiator."

That didn't answer the question, but he decided not to push, yet.

When he saw the steam and water spitting, hissing and rolling out of the radiator cap, he pushed the brim of his sweat stained cowboy hat up a fraction of an inch, and gave a low whistle. "Going to be expensive to fix."

Walker removed a cell phone from a pocket, and kept his eyes on Rosemary as he punched a number. Looking at copper colored hair twisted up off her neck, emerald green eyes that danced with fire and rosy pink lips compressed in anger, he wondered for the umpteenth time why he'd allowed desire for the five foot six package of trouble to burrow under his skin.

She was the most unreasonable, stubborn, infuriating, sassy, sexy, tempting, smart, interesting female he'd ever had the misfortune of running into. He hoped to hell he wouldn't live to regret what he was about to do.