Maybe It's You

By Amarinda Jones

Brett “Battle” Rush was as naked as a jaybird under the old gum tree and for the life of her Karma Leigh could not look anywhere else but at him. A real live cock. Wow! It was huge and sticking straight up and it looked so much bigger than the ones in Lea Anderson’s contraband sex magazines that they giggled at and drooled over in Geography class. Who cared what rivers ran where, when they could look and wonder about naked men. The magazine versions were nothing like Brett. Karma wondered what it would feel like to run her hand up and down the length of his cock.
He was the first naked man she had ever seen. Karma was fifteen. Brett was the same age. Maybe some would not consider him a man yet but to Karma he was all that and more. Brett was the hero of her teenage dreams. But he barely knew she existed. Oh, he was nice and polite to her but she wanted more. If only Brett would see her as a woman and not one of his high school classmates. Karma knew in her heart that Brett was the man for her. Maybe it was a crush. Maybe not. One thing she did know for sure was that the peroxide-blonde Muffy Bickman was not good enough for him.
Besides it was a well-known fact—written on both the boys’ and girls’ rest room walls—that while Muffy was a teasing slut, she planned to be a virgin when she married and only ever went to second base. What did Brett see in her? It was not like he was ever going to break through to the citadel.
“Bloody hell, everyone knows she dyes her hair and stuffs tissues in her bra. At least my boobs are real.” Only last week Karma thought she saw Brett gazing at them but his gaze moved from her to his friends. “I want more than gazing.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scarlet Harlot Publishing
• Release date: Feb 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465971807

Amarinda Jones

Amarinda Jones believes anything is possible and sometimes just asking for the impossible will surprise someone enough that they will give it to you. Writing is like that. Put it out there and wait for a response. There is always the possibility you may fall on your arse, but after all, that's what cellulite is for. Amarinda believes in taking chances, speaking her mind and aging disgracefully. Twenty years from now she plans on being the neighborhood witch that all the kids are scared of. But then, everyone has to have a hobby.

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Published by Amarinda Jones at Smashwords

www.amarindajones.com

Copyright© 2012 Amarinda Jones

Cover Artist: Amarinda Jones

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Prologue

Fifteen years ago

Brett Battle Rush was as naked as a jaybird under the old gum tree and for the life of her Karma Leigh could not look anywhere else but at him. A real live cock. Wow! It was huge and sticking straight up and it looked so much bigger than the ones in Lea Anderson’s  contraband  sex  magazines  that  they  giggled  at  and  drooled  over  in Geography class. Who cared what rivers ran where, when they could look and wonder about naked men. The magazine versions were nothing like  Brett. Karma wondered what it would feel like to run her hand up and down the length of his cock.

He was the first naked man she had ever seen. Karma was fifteen. Brett was the same age. Maybe some would not consider him a man yet but to Karma he was all that and more. Brett was the hero of her teenage dreams. But he barely knew she existed. Oh, he was nice and polite to her but she wanted more. If only Brett would see her as a woman and not one of his high school classmates. Karma knew in her heart that Brett was the man for her. Maybe it was a crush. Maybe not. One thing she did know for sure was that the peroxide-blonde Muffy Bickman was not good enough for him.

Besides it was a well-known fact—written on both the boys’ and girls’ rest room walls—that  while  Muffy  was  a  teasing  slut,  she  planned  to  be  a  virgin  when  she married and only ever went to second base. What did Brett see in her? It was not like he was ever going to break through to the citadel.

Bloody hell, everyone knows she dyes her hair and stuffs tissues in her bra. At least my boobs are real. Only last week Karma thought she saw Brett gazing at them but his gaze moved from her to his friends. I want more than gazing. Karma was so hot and ready to be with Brett that following him up to Patterson’s Peak, the local make out  spot,  had  seemed  a  good  idea  at  the  time.  She  knew  her  aunt  would  have  a conniption fit if she found out she was there, let alone looking at a naked boy who was stroking his penis.

Whoa. Karma’s breath came out in a rush as she watched his hand slide along the taut length of his shaft. She bet he did that a lot to relieve that tension Muffy caused him. Karma felt the wetness between her inner thighs and if she had been at home in her bedroom now she would have her fingers between her legs slowly massaging her clit while imagining Brett’s hands on her body.

Karma heard the twitter of girlish laughter and rolled her eyes in disgust at Muffy Binkman or Bonk-man as the boys called her behind her back. Karma wanted to gag as she watched Muffy fall into Brett’s open arms.

Bloody hell I need a coffee. Karma headed back home to the only stimulant she knew she would get that night.

Chapter One

Present day

It had been years since Karma Leigh had cried. She refused to let anything get to her. She knew she was tough and strong and able to get by when others floundered. Real life lessons had made her that way. Nothing got to her until now. Karma swiped the tears from her face with one hand and swore at herself.

You big wuss. It’s just a house. Snap out of it, she muttered before she took a hard swallow from the large takeaway cup of coffee in her hand. But this time the soothing, familiar taste of caffeine did not ease the lonely ache inside her as it usually did. Karma ripped off the plastic lid of the cup and flung it on the ground and stomped on it. I frigging hate lids on coffee. I’m not a bloody child. She  ground the lid into the dirt with her booted heel. It cracked under the pressure.

Great-Aunt Elizabeth’s house was going to be sold. The thought of that made the tears rush back into Karma’s eyes. It was the house she had grown up in. It was the only home she had ever really known after her mother had died and left her in the custody of her aunt. But Elizabeth was dead and all the loose ends of her life had to be legally sorted out by Karma and stamped gone forever by some overpriced lawyer.

And I am back in Adenwood once more. Karma shook her head. I never thought I would be.  Her plan had been never to venture west again but plans had a way of falling to pieces when duty called. As soon as she had driven into her old hometown so many  memories  had  hit  her.  The  cutesy  wooden  sign  spelling  Adenwood  out  in flowers, the big, candy-pink gerbera that stood fifteen feet high and was the local tourist attraction and the wide country streets that the locals wandered down  oblivious to oncoming traffic. How a ruthless, Brisbane city driver like Karma had not hit one of them  still amazed her. But then that was Adenwood. People moved slowly and did  what they wanted. Nothing had changed there. Karma took another swig of her extra large coffee. After visiting her aunt’s home, she had felt the urgent need for caffeine.

Fucking kamikaze attack possums, she mumbled. The minute she had walked up to the steps  of  the old homestead, a large, furry mammal with a long black tail had sprung  from  the  guttering  and  almost  landed  on  her  head.  In  fright,  Karma  had stumbled backward, falling onto a big dirty white, one-eyed concrete swan that sat on Elizabeth’s front lawn. As she fell she knocked its head off and ripped the seat of her thin, blue jeans on its rusted wire beak, before landing unceremoniously  on  her ass. Karma could not stop the vile insults that came to her mouth as she looked at the possum who stared back at her. If she had not known better she would have sworn it was laughing as she staggered to her feet, her ass sore and her pride wounded. It was hard to be composed and in control with your red-cotton-covered ass hanging out for all to see. Karma had forgotten how many  possums used to live around her aunt’s house.

Well, my house now I guess. That’s what the will had said. I bequeath all my worldly  possessions  to  Karma  Jane  Leigh.  Just  never  imagined  that  would  include possums. Karma balanced the coffee beside her on the large, granite boulder she sat on and pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes. As Karma uncovered them, she saw a man