down here and this close—spectacular. I wanted to nuzzle my nose in that spot right—there—his fine-haired belly button and then—
“Take them off.”
When I glanced up, a gasp rushed out of me. His eyes—lust? No, it couldn’t be. Before I had more time to think about it, his hands gripped mine and pushed. Elastic-banded shorts didn’t take much force, and they pooled at his feet.
I stared at the carpet and almost laughed, because the picture of what I must look like seated, head bowed at the feet of a gorgeous man brought to mind—a concubine. My sex-starved body and brain liked taking me on this crazy journey.
“Look at me, Serena.”
As if my body responded to orders given only by him, I lifted my head.
And descended to hell for sure.
Sprung free, his shaft stuck out like a divining rod, pulling every drop of saliva out of my mouth. Virgin or not, his manly goods deserved a label—IMPRESSIVE. I guess the saying had been true…big feet…big…
Trim black hair coated the base and little patches played peek-a-boo around each sac.
“Is this your first?”
His abrupt and unexpected prompt broke my trance. My attention lifted up to his watchful gaze. His hard-to-read face no doubt already knew the answer. I glanced back down, getting another eyeful before mumbling, “Yes.”
“Get up, now.” His tone, louder than before, had me standing in an instant.
I should’ve been alarmed and kept quiet, but instead spoke first. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head and got in bed. With an arm propped behind his pillow and the comforter covering him up to his chest, he watched me like I was an intriguing and perplexing documentary.
My gaze dropped to the floor; a sinking feeling formed in my stomach. The glittery gold sparkles on my dress caught the light from the nightstand. My hands wrapped around my middle, protecting and hugging tight.
“Come to bed, Serena.”
I plodded to the other side and plunked down with my back to him. The darkness outside matched my mood. Gloomy . Light from harbor lampposts created shadows in various spots along the boardwalk, mirroring the mystical form lying behind me, and the reflection I kept glancing at in the window.
I unzipped the dress, and it fell to my hips. Crap. I didn’t wear a bra with the strapless outfit, and my string-bikini underwear was thinner and more transparent than dental floss. All my clothes were in my apartment, and I hadn’t thought to bring anything up here. Nothing I could do about it now. I wasn’t about to ask for something to put on and add to the humiliation. I pulled the garment underneath me and let it fall to the floor. Tomorrow, I’d plan ahead and bring something to sleep in. On my next trip to the Goodwill, I’d get a robe.
A finger skimmed my lower back. “When did you get the tramp stamp?”
Seriously? Okay, call me naive. I didn’t know people called it that when I got it.
“Six months ago,” I countered, like getting inked had been routine for me. Ha! He’d never know.
“What language is it? What’s it say?”
I smiled and my retort rushed out before giving it much thought.
“Hmm, if I told you then I’d have to—”
He burst out laughing so hard the bed shook, registering at least six points on the Richter scale.
As I turned toward him, I made sure to keep my chest covered by my arm. “You don’t think I’m serious? I have connections, you know.” I giggled, because his hearty chuckles made it too hard to resist.
His arm covered his eyes as he continued to laugh, and that was all I needed to sneak under the comforter, pulling it up to my chin. I willed my mind off the deep voice that echoed in the room and the naked centerfold behind me. Yeah, good luck with that . Every movement he made seemed hardwired to my body.
His hand snaked around my waist, coming to rest between my breasts. Snuggled along my back, his bare chest and everything aligned at my rear. “Good night, beautiful.”
I closed
“Take them off.”
When I glanced up, a gasp rushed out of me. His eyes—lust? No, it couldn’t be. Before I had more time to think about it, his hands gripped mine and pushed. Elastic-banded shorts didn’t take much force, and they pooled at his feet.
I stared at the carpet and almost laughed, because the picture of what I must look like seated, head bowed at the feet of a gorgeous man brought to mind—a concubine. My sex-starved body and brain liked taking me on this crazy journey.
“Look at me, Serena.”
As if my body responded to orders given only by him, I lifted my head.
And descended to hell for sure.
Sprung free, his shaft stuck out like a divining rod, pulling every drop of saliva out of my mouth. Virgin or not, his manly goods deserved a label—IMPRESSIVE. I guess the saying had been true…big feet…big…
Trim black hair coated the base and little patches played peek-a-boo around each sac.
“Is this your first?”
His abrupt and unexpected prompt broke my trance. My attention lifted up to his watchful gaze. His hard-to-read face no doubt already knew the answer. I glanced back down, getting another eyeful before mumbling, “Yes.”
“Get up, now.” His tone, louder than before, had me standing in an instant.
I should’ve been alarmed and kept quiet, but instead spoke first. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head and got in bed. With an arm propped behind his pillow and the comforter covering him up to his chest, he watched me like I was an intriguing and perplexing documentary.
My gaze dropped to the floor; a sinking feeling formed in my stomach. The glittery gold sparkles on my dress caught the light from the nightstand. My hands wrapped around my middle, protecting and hugging tight.
“Come to bed, Serena.”
I plodded to the other side and plunked down with my back to him. The darkness outside matched my mood. Gloomy . Light from harbor lampposts created shadows in various spots along the boardwalk, mirroring the mystical form lying behind me, and the reflection I kept glancing at in the window.
I unzipped the dress, and it fell to my hips. Crap. I didn’t wear a bra with the strapless outfit, and my string-bikini underwear was thinner and more transparent than dental floss. All my clothes were in my apartment, and I hadn’t thought to bring anything up here. Nothing I could do about it now. I wasn’t about to ask for something to put on and add to the humiliation. I pulled the garment underneath me and let it fall to the floor. Tomorrow, I’d plan ahead and bring something to sleep in. On my next trip to the Goodwill, I’d get a robe.
A finger skimmed my lower back. “When did you get the tramp stamp?”
Seriously? Okay, call me naive. I didn’t know people called it that when I got it.
“Six months ago,” I countered, like getting inked had been routine for me. Ha! He’d never know.
“What language is it? What’s it say?”
I smiled and my retort rushed out before giving it much thought.
“Hmm, if I told you then I’d have to—”
He burst out laughing so hard the bed shook, registering at least six points on the Richter scale.
As I turned toward him, I made sure to keep my chest covered by my arm. “You don’t think I’m serious? I have connections, you know.” I giggled, because his hearty chuckles made it too hard to resist.
His arm covered his eyes as he continued to laugh, and that was all I needed to sneak under the comforter, pulling it up to my chin. I willed my mind off the deep voice that echoed in the room and the naked centerfold behind me. Yeah, good luck with that . Every movement he made seemed hardwired to my body.
His hand snaked around my waist, coming to rest between my breasts. Snuggled along my back, his bare chest and everything aligned at my rear. “Good night, beautiful.”
I closed
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