Tap the Hard Rock
Copyright© 2026 by Sonarflash2026
Chapter 7
Satiated and languid, Bonnie stared up at her trailer’s bedroom ceiling. Ruddy, indirect sunlight was creeping through blinds, illuminating tiny, decorative sparkles. She examined their patterns, drifting in quiet contentment, even though rebellious parts of her mind kept trying to inject fears. Regardless, the rest of her was purring, humming with sexual contentment.
Naked and spent, Brad was snoring lightly, sound asleep beside her. She giggled with a satisfied smile.
“Four times!” she whispered, still not quite believing that Brad brought her to orgasm repeatedly over a couple of hours. “Five, if I count that one on the couch.”
She glanced down at his flaccid, shrivelled penis, brow crinkling. ‘He isn’t really hung, but there’s that odd little upward curve when he’s erect.’ She thought, grinning, replete with satisfaction. ‘Enough there to keep bumping my cervix after rubbing across my G-spot. Yum! That, and he certainly has stamina. Came with me all four times.’
After years of unsatisfying encounters, that factor alone was unprecedented, adding pleasure to pleasure. The rapid onset to climax from stimulation of her breasts had been unexpected and delicious. “‘I think I was unconscious that last time!’ she mused, shivering with delight over yet another first.
Of course, they had managed to soak her bedding, what with him making her gush with her last two orgasms, the intensity rendering her limp and senseless.
‘Thank God the mattress cover is waterproof!’ she thought whimsically. ‘Mind altering sex? Or, life altering?’
Bonnie smiled dreamily, Brad’s warm presence and snores adding to her sense of bliss. She drifted into a languid doze.
When the distant buzz of a vibrating cell phone intruded, Bonnie puzzled. The ring tone on her phone was a distinctive, different melody
“Brad?” she said, lightly shaking his shoulder, trying to awaken him. She didn’t. He was gone. That fourth, incredibly intense orgasm had him dead to the world.
Naked, smelling of sex and quite sticky, Bonnie rolled out of bed. A peek through curtains hardly surprised her. The evening was coming on. The sun was only an hour from touching snowy peaks of the distant Rockies.
With a sigh, she padded into the trailer’s living room, finding Brad’s jeans. The cell in a belt pouch was still buzzing. Unconcerned about who might be calling, still feeling dreamy and glowing from the cascade of orgasms, she tapped the flashing answer icon.
“Hello?” she purred, voice soft and husky.
There was a drawn out moment of silence, then a crisp, aristocratic English voice demanded, “who is this?”
“Bonnie,” she replied automatically, not quite thinking when she asked, “I guess you were expecting Brad?”
“Yes, since this is his cell number!” the voice said icily, dripping with hostile sarcasm, instantly raising Bonnie’s hackles. “Where is he?”
Bonnie let her inner bitch surface. Feminine hostility and devilment stirring. She grinned, taking advantage of a perfect opening.
With a languid western drawl, she said, best I take a message. The poor darlin’ is asleep. Couldn’t get him to wake up. Guess that fourth time kinda’ wore him out.”
There was a very definite, very angry shriek at the other end. The call disconnected with a crash. Bonnie thought it sounded very much like a cell phone hitting a wall, or perhaps a mirror.
A minute later, Brad stepped out of the bedroom, naked, drowsy and rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Somebody here? Dreamed my cell was vibrating. Then I heard you talking.
She crossed to him, holding out the cell. “This was buzzing. Sorry. Couldn’t get you to wake. Guess I shouldn’t have answered.”
He blinked owlishly, looked at the last caller’s number and swore. “Oh shit! Lady Eveline!”
“There wasn’t a message,” Bonnie said innocently, her brows lifting. “After the shriek, I think she busted her phone.”
He groaned, rolled his eyes, then shot her a look. “What did you say?”
“She demanded to know where you were, so I told her you were sleepin’,” she replied, smirking. “And that I’d worn out the ‘poor darlin’.”
“That was catty mean,” he said, letting out a gusty breath before chuckling. “Not to mention it likely soured any hope of a business deal.”
“Not to mention?” Bonnie shot back. “Let’s mention. You are no longer available, so any business deal will be strictly that. Business.”
He arched brows and glared at her. “You think? No longer available?”
“Like you professed some weeks ago!” she snapped back. “Your mine and I’m yours. We’re exclusive. Mated. A done deal, unless you want me to carve off your package?.”
“As in for better or worse?” he asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “I thought you were done with relationships?”
“According to you, we’re as good as married,” she stated firmly, meeting his glare. “Unless you were lying? I’m hoping for better this time. Don’t care about richer or poorer, and right now, I don’t want to think about sickness.” She drew a calming breath. “Though, another afternoon of multiple orgasms might be too much for your poor old heart?”
He snorted. “My old heart kept up with you, and you certainly look healthy,” he drawled, grinning, letting his gaze wander over her naked curves. “rather fetching too.”
Bonnie angled a hip and stroked a hand down her bare flank, all the while giving him a sultry look. “You think?”
“Awesome,” he said with a nod, slipping sideways into the kitchenette, opening the fridge. “If there’s anything to eat in here I’ll marry you.”
“Francine said you don’t do marriage,” she replied pointedly, planting both hands on hips, staring at his back, then lower, studying his bare ass and the distinct imprints of her fingernails.
“There’s always a second time, or in your case, a fourth,” he said, chuckling, rooting through the meat drawer, taking out a package of pastrami. “I can feel your laser eyes burning a hole through the back of my head,” he said, turning to open cupboards. “You got any rye bread?”
“The lasers were examining fingernail punctures in your ass,” she answered. “Unless you get serious, I might attack your lovely balls with a steak knife.”
“I’m serious,” he replied. “If there’s no bread, the wedding is off.” He turned, munching on a slice of pastrami. He gulped down meat as she went to the butcher block and pulled out a bread knife. “That’s got a blunt point. Might hurt a lot more than a steak knife,” he suggested.
Bonnie snorted, opened a drawer and took out a loaf of rye. She quickly sliced off two slabs. “If you’ll stop gobbling the meat, I’ll make you a Reuben. Pastrami on rye with Swiss cheese, sauerkraut, hot mustard and dill pickles. I’ve been eating at the cafe in town. Out here, I just have snacks, that luncheon meat and salad fixings.” She glanced over a shoulder and cocked one eyebrow. “You don’t seem too upset about Lady Eveline?”
“Like I told you, that first day we met, I was running away,” he said, putting back a slice of pastrami. “Francine has always been a good listener, and her advice has always been sound, if somewhat blunt.”
“She was blunt with me. So, How far did it go with the aristocrat?”
“Not that far,” he replied, handing her the meat. “Woman knows how to kiss, but she always has to fix her face afterwards. Tried every trick in the book to bed me, if there actually is such a thing as a book about that.” He paused, then said, “you don’t seem all that upset. Not jealous?”
She gave him a radiant smile. “I’m still high after four incredible orgasms. Five, counting that one on the couch when you were sucking my tits. So, no, I’m not jealous. Besides, we are already a couple. Four times in my bed makes for a pretty tight knot.” She grinned at his stunned expression, then turned, sawing off two more slices of the dark bread. “I’m sorry if my teasing fucked up your business deal.”
“It might have been an entry into another global market,” he commented. “Money doesn’t matter, though inside connections wouldn’t hurt.” He watched quietly as she put four slices of bread in a toaster, took down plates and went into the fridge, taking out mustard and a jar of pickles. She opened a package of Swiss cheese.
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