Szot, JC - The South Window (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (10 page)

“She’s gone.” Allie waited for Marty’s reaction, wanting to eat it up like a sweet dessert.

Marty had been lying low for awhile, avoiding Tess. Allie had seen Tess walk over to his place a few times before she left, but the heavy episodes in his workshop had stopped. Allie thought a small part of her ego was still trying to reel him back in.

“You mean Tess?” He tilted his head toward her house.

“That’s right.” Allie tried not to look too happy. She just needed a break.

“What? Did she move to Readington to save on gas?” Marty laughed.

“No, she’s off to St. Thomas with her ‘friends’ from Readington, as she put it.”

“Mm, that sounds adventurous enough for her. So what brings you over?” He scratched a dried smear of paint on his cheek.

“I think you should stop over tonight so we can pick the colors for your mural,” she told him.

“Sounds good. How about seven?”

“Great, see you then.” Allie watched him climb back up the ladder before walking back across the yard.

* * * *

“I think these are all great. You’re the artist.” Marty stood in front of her supply closet.

“I’m going to start tomorrow,” Allie informed him. She snuck a glance at his face, flushed and clean shaven. “You’ve looked at the sketch, right?”

“Sure. I love it.” Marty faced her. “You do brilliant work,” he said softly. His eyes gleamed, staring into her. “When’s Dan coming home?”

His question hit her like a swarm of stinging bees.

“Not until next month.” Allie closed the closet door.

“That must be hard.”

Allie turned back to him. His look was seeping into her. She felt a rising sensation in her belly, a thrilling ride that was gaining momentum, its destination unknown.

“I’m used to it.” Allie waved off his comment. Marty’s stare moved with her. Allie could feel his heat, his woodsy scent filling the air between them. “Marty, Dan made his choice. It obviously wasn’t me. It was his job.” Allie turned away from him and started packing the paints into a basket.

The only sound in the room was Marty’s boots moving across the floor toward the window. Allie had never spoken about Dan with such resentment. She’d kept things buried for so long. Now her resentment was rearing its ugly head. She’d given up a lot to move here with him, a successful art studio, her friends, and business contacts. There was only so much a person could hold in and keep contained. Her tolerance tank was full, unwilling to hold any more.

Something inside of her had shifted. What had caused this shift was standing right here with her, in this room. While she packed the paints, Marty gazed out the window. Allie tried to read him, speculating what he was thinking. Was it the same thing she was?

“Would you like anything, Marty? A glass of wine, maybe?”

He turned away from the window, his hands in his pockets.

“Sure. Actually, you don’t happen to have any beer, do you?” He walked toward her work table.

“Actually I do. How about a Foster’s Lager?”

“Perfect.” He took the basket from her, following her downstairs.

They sat in the kitchen and drank. Allie was on her third glass of wine, Marty on his second beer. She told him Tess had given her permission to use her facilities while she was gone.

“Oh, yeah.” Marty’s eyes brightened. “She does have a nice pool back there.” He wiped the condensation from the large can. Allie changed the subject.

“I’ll be over in the morning to start the wall. I’m gonna sketch it out first, and then you can check it before I paint.” The wine was oozing through her veins like a tranquilizer.

“Great. I look forward to seeing it.”

Marty was preoccupied. Allie wasn’t sure what he was thinking about. There were words that maybe should be said, to help ease the tension. Allie had felt it building, gradually, like bricks being laid. Every time they were alone together more unspoken words accumulated between them, like books on a shelf that were never read.

“I should go. I have some things to do in the workshop.” Marty stood up and took his empty can to the counter.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Allie’s insides sank. She didn’t want to waste too much time trying to gain momentum with him. They only had ten days. She wanted to rush to the peak and consume herself with him.

* * * *

Allie sat outside on the deck and stalked him. The small glow of Marty’s lantern glinted in the window. Allie wanted him, but didn’t want to look desperate. She had just rolled over on the lounge chair, contemplating sleeping outside to avoid her vast, empty bed, when she heard his workshop door open, the hinges squeaking through the black, night air.

Allie rolled back and saw Marty standing outside, facing her yard. Could he see her? Allie stood and walked to the edge of the deck, resting her hands on the railing, making herself visible to him. She had gotten his attention. He was smoking. A hot ash glowed against his face, like a fog light in the middle of uncharted waters.

Their stares connected through the dark. If he wasn’t going to move, then she had to. Allie took two steps toward the narrow staircase leading down into the yard. She stopped and looked at him, her heart pushing through her chest. She ached for a gesture of acknowledgment. Her insides were tingling, her inner voice starting to tell her that she would be rejected.

Allie saw him step aside, opening the door of the workshop. Marty raised his hand, his palm turned upward. She stepped down the stairs, the wood moist from the evening air. Allie walked across the yard, her eyes locked on his. The steps she was taking would take her somewhere she’d never been, somewhere she could never return from, something that couldn’t be undone.

Allie stepped over the cool patio stones, the granite digging into the balls of her feet. She walked up to Marty, their faces inches apart. Allie inhaled his light perspiration, the sweet-scented cigar on his lips. She then walked into his workshop, the smell of cedar enveloped her. The door clicked shut behind her. He set his cigar in the ashtray and dimmed the lantern. Allie’s legs quivered. She ached for his slightest touch, the urge overpowering yet unfamiliar. She avoided his eyes for a moment, afraid of his expression, questioning if he was having second thoughts. She heard his footsteps shuffling across the dusty floor. Allie let him approach her from behind. His hands seared into her skin. His large fingers glided down her shoulders, his calloused blisters scratching her. The teeth on the zipper of her dress clicked open slowly, now giving her the chance of a polite refusal. White noise roared in her ears.

The sound of the material slipping off her skin was deafening. Marty sucked in his breath behind her. His warm hands slid over her breasts, cupping them in his palms. A paralysis shot through her, her skin deprived of one’s desired touch for too long. His teeth bit into her neck, a piercing pain that had Allie thirsting for more.

Allie reached behind her, stroking his thigh. His hands glided down her body, resting on her hips, steering her around to face him. His tender expression welcomed her, unopposed by what was happening. Allie leaned into him, running her tongue over his parted lips, his sweet taste an antecedent of her uncontrollable appetite for him.

“Christ, the things I’ve wanted to do to you.” His words were gruff through his parted lips.

His hands eased her dress down, sliding it from her body. Marty draped it over the workbench. Allie’s skin became saturated with the balmy night air. She yanked Marty’s shirt over his head, her actions desperate, needing to feel his body against hers. What’d been a figment of her imagination was about to become a reality. Her hands slid over his chest. Allie buried her face in the tight crevices, breathing him in, her teeth nipping at his nipple. The salty muskiness of his skin flooded her tongue. His hands moved to her head, steering her lips to his. Their tongues met, sliding together lazily. Her body responded immediately. Her pussy was raining for him, her clit throbbing. Allie pressed her thighs together, her pleasure right under the surface, waiting to be released.

Marty’s hands roamed, learning her body. The stroke of his fingers ignited on her skin like live wires. Allie reached into his jeans, feeling his warmth, his intimate scent escaping into the air. His cock throbbed in her hand, his skin smooth and taut.

“Oh fuck,” Marty moaned. “That’s real nice, Allie.” His words were a heated wind. His hips moved, thrusting his cock into her hand.

Allie rubbed herself against him, making her wants known. She fought with the rest of his clothing, her hands soaking up the flesh that pulled over his corded muscles. Allie leaned against the workbench, her desire mounting. Marty sank to his knees. Her body trembled, the anticipation of having his mouth on her. He nuzzled her, breathing her in. His tongue edged through her folds, sliding from her clit down into her wet center. Allie gasped, gripping his head.

“Marty! Oh God.” He tasted her leisurely. His tongue eased through her pussy gently and slowly, as if savoring his sample. His hands nudged her thighs, spreading her. He was a talented lover, his mouth sucking, his tongue flicking at her clit. Allie’s bones were crumbling into a helpless heap. Allie arched into him, giving him what they both wanted. Her body shook. Marty stood, gripping her hips. He lifted her. Allie wrapped her legs around him, pulling his body into hers. Her damp skin slid against his flesh. Marty’s hot breaths tunneled into her ear.

“Christ, I want you,” he said, his voice tight with desire. He spun their bodies around, slamming them against the wall. He reached between them, grabbing for his cock. The fingers of his other hand dug into her hip. She felt him at her entrance, nudging his way through. Marty took her lips as he glided inside, filling her with his thick length. His hips ground into hers, stretching her all the way.

“Mm.” Allie felt her eyes roll back, welcoming him, the way his body felt and moved inside of hers.

“Let me look at you.” His breaths heaved. His eyes blazed, his teeth chewing at his lower lip. He thrust into her, splintering her apart. He had created a fault line within her the last few weeks. He now broke her open, their bodies grinding, rubbing, and pressing. Allie raked her nails down the knotted bones of his spine, hanging on. She tilted her hips, needing him deeper. She closed her eyes, relishing him, the absolute pleasure that he was giving her.

“God, you’re so hot.” His mouth bruised hers, his tongue unleashing a custom-made fire that raged between them.

“Fuck me,” Allie whimpered, giving her hidden thoughts life. Her body longed for more, wanting to feel his take root inside of her. “Harder,” she gasped, wanting to ensure it wasn’t all a dream. “Let me feel you.” The words gritted through her teeth.

Their breaths accelerated. Marty’s body stiffened. Purring groans slipped from his lips, their bodies jolting in pleasure.

White lightning flashed behind her lids. Decadent pleasure mixed with a pleasing torture that filled all of her lonely spaces.

Chapter 13

“I’ve been calling. Where’ve you been?” Dan asked firmly.

“I’ve been painting at Marty’s. You told me to find something to do.” Allie stretched across the bed, the heat of the rising sun beating on her bare body. She felt extravagant, her afterglow of the previous night still vibrating in her limbs.

“I suppose I did.” Dan’s tone now sounded defeated. “What’re you painting?” Today’s technology made it sound as if he were right next door, which spooked her.

“He asked me to do a scenic mural in his living room.” Allie stifled a yawn.

“Good. That’s good that you’re occupied.”

They talked for a few more minutes. Allie listened to all Dan’s complaints regarding the takeover and trying to soothe disgruntled employees. Before ending their conversation, he turned it back over to her project at Marty’s. Allie planned to start the mural today, but her lies to him continued to roll off her tongue like water.