It's a sexy brand of Reefer Madness! When Todd develops a new strain of marijuana, all the women want a hit off the sexy bud! First it's the Bible-thumping woman next door. Then it's his uptight boss. But can he keep them all happy? All aboard the "Pineapple Express!"
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
A whiff of smoke tugged at her nostrils, and she frowned. Not a cigarette, or even a cigar. The scent didn't have the harsh smell of tobacco. No, this was milder, more...herbal.
Charlotte sat bolt upright in her chair. Pot! Todd was smoking pot, not ten feet above her!
She tilted her head back, intending to let loose a stream of invective fit to burn his ears, then slowly let the indrawn breath ease out again. Over the past year she had discovered, to her chagrin, exactly how little the powers that be cared about her views about what should be allowed at Shady Thicket Condominiums. Calling the homeowners association or, worse, the police, would result in nothing more than a stern lecture about wasting people's time. She didn't have enough friends as it was. Was she really so eager to make another enemy?
Besides, the smell of the marijuana, slowly sifting down between the holes in the balcony floor above, was strangely...good. She inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet scent, then took another sip of wine, the rich red liquid stirring a fire in her veins. A quick, glancing look up showed her Todd's legs, thrust out in front of his chair, the ankles crossed. Good legs, she decided. Not too hairy, either. Her nose wrinkled at the memory of her brother-in-law Frank at the Memorial Day picnic last year. His legs had been so covered in patchy brown hair that he resembled a bear with a bad case of mange. But Todd's had only the lightest dusting of golden-blond hair that seemed to glow in the last light of the sun, leaving the rest of his skin smooth.
How would they feel? She swallowed, feeling her skin flush. She knew she shouldn't be thinking these thoughts. But she was a free woman now, wasn't she? Marriage had been one long disappointment. Surely God wouldn't judge her for wondering what it would be like to be with a man who wasn't a closeted homosexual. He wouldn't be that cruel. He was love, after all.
Love. The word blazed through her mind, and she breathed deep, the subtle scent of pot tickling her nostrils, seeping deep into her lungs, her blood, her body. Yes, she needed love. Needed someone to love her. Not as a dutiful daughter. Not as a sister. Or niece. Or grand-daughter. Or aunt. But as her herself.
As a woman.
God. She fought back a giggle. I'm horny. Real horny. Almost unaware of what she was doing, she loosened the top button of her blouse. She frowned down at her breasts, caught in the plain cotton cups of her functional bra.
She slid a cup down, exposing the curve of her breast. Still firm, still not as big as she might have wished. Despite her twenty-six years, there would always be a small part of her that was forever fifteen, glaring at the bathroom mirror and arching her back, trying to make her boobs look bigger than they were, and resentful as hell that she would never be a d-cup, or even a c.
Todd likes them, though. The thought slithered through her head, as subtle as the serpent in the Garden. He doesn't stare at my chest like some other guys do. But he takes a look when he can. And I let him. I bet if I made a scene, he'd stop. But I don't want him to.
She leaned back, breathing in deep, the smell of pot a rich, heady aroma, sending tendrils though her mind and body. I want...him.