It won't work."Just eight little words. Eight little words that caused my breath to back up in my lungs and butterflies to dance in my stomach. Eight ...ords that ensured I hadn't thought about anything else on the three hour drive here. Eight words that meant I had spent my first night here tossing and turning, restless dreams invading my sleep. Eight words that echoed in my head as I woke up panting, hot and needy from dreams of his touch.I glanced around the room to check that nothing that. I approached the door and rang the bell. No answer. I rang it again. Still no answer.Then a vibration from my pocket. An email coming through on my cellphone. I opened it up and read it.“Come to the back door. Take off your shoes and come inside, and walk straight ahead about ten feet. Then stop and wait.”In a split second, all sorts of scenarios came to mind, involving axe murderers, hockey masks, chainsaws…and one unexpected image. Briny oysters. Thankfully just a brief image.I walked around. (Sam doesn’t do credit cards). I usually have a $50 bill in the glove box for emergencys. When I walked back up to the line I heard a friendly voice call out.“Oooo, I LOVE that place, my husband and I used to go there all the time.”I looked up to see a nice looking woman pointing to my hat and I had to take it off to see which one I was wearing. It was for Rare Brews, the brew pub I was headed to.“Oh, I’m just heading there for their anniversary celebration, they’re releasing their most popular. Listening to Marie describe what she liked and wanted was a huge turn on for me and I made it known that I would happily go along with whatever ideas she came up with. We had agreed that we would be a bit more spontaneous and not plan the hell out of it like I had done previously. When my parents gave us the offer of a c***d free weekend, we both knew immediately how we would be spending the next few days. We talked about so many different things and places and positions and scenarios, but it.
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