Going Fishing Republished by Popular Demand

“Going Fishing” is already available for readers to purchase here. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009VPR7E2

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Gerri had a reputation for breaking hearts. While I didn’t want to top her long list of discarded femmes, I couldn’t help it if the alluring dyke drove me crazier than a fish out of water desperate to be thrown back into the ocean. I’d drown if I couldn’t join her fishing, and I longed for so much more.
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Excerpt:
Once she had the three bags securely in her grasp, we weaved our way through the sea of travelers. It was hard for me to keep up with her long-limbed pace. I’m sure I had to take three steps for every one of hers. Breathless was a good description for how I felt, but it wasn’t entirely due to walking so fast.
“I love being out by the sea. That’s one of the reasons why I fish. Catching them is a bonus. I would never live far from the coast. I reckon I would pine away if I didn’t have a body of water nearby,” she said.
“It sounds wonderful. Take me with you next time.”
She stopped and stared. “You want to fish with me?”
I nodded and prayed I didn’t appear too eager.
“Wow, you’re the first woman that has asked to come along.” She seemed genuinely surprised.
“I like to fish,” luring her in with my seductive tone. She must have missed it since she resumed walking. We exited the terminal and stepped on to the street. The cool October night air did nothing to dispel my heat.
“Mostly, I ask women to come along, and they don’t turn up.”
“I find it hard to believe. Who would do that?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Well, I’d show up for sure.”
She halted two inches short of colliding with a bell captain. I watched as she ran her fingers through her hair and found myself envious of her hands. This yearning was getting out of control. I imagined flinging my body into her arms, calling out, ready or not, here I come, which was ridiculous, if not a bit too forward.
An airline worker took his sweet ass time moving the luggage rack, but I didn’t mind. I don’t know if it was the way my gaze worshipped her, despite all attempts at appearing too cool to care, but her flirtatious gesture in return penetrated me like microwaves. The heat of her stare shot right to my core. My face registered temperatures in direct proportion to the passion stirring in my belly and radiating through my clit.

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