Look Closer: No Safe Words Here 1-4 out of 5. Boxed Set by Mercy Walker Page B

away.”
    My father was pro-athletics to a fault, but secretly he loved that I was so smart.  And another science fair trophy would look good on the living room mantle.
    Grudgingly he said, “Okay.”
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Ten
    Marcus
     
     
    Chilled out on the couch, I felt my cell phone vibrate.  I pulled it out of my pocket and saw it was a text from Tom.  I felt a tingle start down my spine, and it didn’t stop until it went down the crack of my ass and made my dick harden.  He’d fucked the hell out of me just last night…twice…and he was still horny? 
    Of course, so was I…
    I read the message: Come over.  Wear those swim trunks again.
    I smiled.  He’d liked the whole pool boy thing.  I thought he would.
    So I scrambled up stairs, stripped out of the shorts and t-shirt I’d been bumming around in, and then pulled on the requested trunks—they were white with blue palms running down the legs, and they were from last year, so they were too tight. On top of that I threw on a black tank top.  I thought it would be nice to have something to take off.
    Maybe he’d take it off for me…like I was sure he’d take the trunks off for me.
    Maybe with his teeth…
    I was halfway across my lawn, about ready to climb the fence, when I realized it was broad daylight.  I stopped, pulled out my phone and texted: Wheres ur wife?
    A few seconds later he messaged back: Out 4 a few hours.  Get ur hot little butt over here!
    I smiled again.  This was just too sweet.  I wasn’t home a full twenty-four hours and I was already going to get my ass fucked for the third time. It was going to be a freaking record. Now I really was tingling all over.
    The backdoor was open about six inches, and I slipped in, pulling it shut behind me.  I stood and listened for a few heartbeats.  I could hear the refrigerator kick on, and the whir of the air conditioner.
    Thank god.  Last night had been hot…but it had been hot as freaking hell too.  I was so dehydrated by the time I got home I downed two thirty-two once Gatorades before I staggered to bed.
    Thank god my parents slept like the freaking dead.
    I found Tom’s shirt on the floor of the hall.  I picked it up and brought it to my face, taking in the scent of him.  Not just a classy cologne, but that masculine natural smell Tom exuded.
    I moved farther down the hall and found his belt.  I was starting to like this game.
    Up the stairs I went, running across his shoes and socks—I didn’t sniff them…I may be twisted and horny, but I had limits.  But right in front of the open door to his and Mrs. Sherwood’s  bedroom were his slacks and underwear. 
    I did sniff his underwear—guess I’m pervy enough for that.
    The shower was on, and I could hear Tom humming “Stars and Stripes Forever.”  I knew he loved the fourth of July.  I suddenly wondered if we’d create our own fireworks that night? 
    “Getting all clean for me?” I asked as I sauntered into the bathroom, thoroughly checking out Tom’s rather inspirational form through the nearly non-existent opaque glass shower door. 
    He chuckled and leaned out the shower door.  “Thought you’d like me wet and clean instead of sweaty and smelly.”
    Since his gorgeous baby blues were fixed on me, I took the opportunity to slowly strip the tank top off over my shoulders and toss it on the floor.
    “I like you any way I can get you…as long as you’re going to fuck me, that is.”
    I moved away from him—he’d reached to try and pull me into the shower with him.  We could have shower sex anytime.  After last night, I was pretty sure we’d end up in there after round one anyways.
    But I had my eye on another choice piece of taboo real estate: him and Mrs. Sherwood’s bed.
    I felt dirty just thinking about it.  The bed was meticulously made ala Martha Stuart—my mom had gotten into that kick too last week.  That was until she realized how much work it was.  I got a perverse kick out of throwing