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Authors: Tina Donahue

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BOOK: WickedSeduction
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No more.

With Tor, this act meant something. He was a generous man
with a good heart. Marnie wouldn’t be satisfied until she gave him her all.
Opening her throat, she took his full length inside, inch by delicious inch,
noting his elevated breathing, how he tensed his legs, the uninhibited noises
pouring from him. Music for lovers. A moment for her to treasure.

She cupped his balls in one hand and ran her other down the
furrow between his cheeks, as he’d done with her. Tor squirmed but didn’t pull
away. When Marnie touched his anus, he stilled then let out a bawdy groan.

Encouraged, she probed his tight ring gently and eased his
shaft from her mouth until only the crown was inside, trapped by her lips.
Marnie took full advantage, tonguing the uneven skin at the back, a guy’s
pleasure zone.

Tor growled and gripped her skull. “Don’t—don’t—don’t—“

“Continue or stop?” she asked around his cock in her mouth.

“You did stop—don’t,” he said. “Please. Keep—
ah.”

Marnie had taken him back inside to the root, her nose
pressed against his thick pelt scented with musk. Moaning softly, she eased
away again, her tongue stroking his hard length, his most sensitive spot, and
finally the smooth crown. She tongued the slit, loving the salty flavor of his
pre-cum, but didn’t linger there. Moving down his shaft again, Marnie worked
his cock as her cunt never could, her mouth, lips, tongue and hands busy, dedicated
to his pleasure.

He fought against release as she had, but Tor’s patience was
no match for hers.

“Fuck,” he suddenly shouted then came on an uncivilized
bellow, hands dropping away from her, his thick, creamy cum spurting into her
mouth.

Marnie accepted his offering with pleasure, swallowing every
drop, licking him clean.

When she lapped his balls, he twisted his body. “No. Can’t
take any more.”

She stopped. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He paused to swallow. “I’ll be ready again in a
bit.”

“Me too.”

For now, Marnie rested her head on his hairy thigh, her mind
finally at peace.

Chapter Six

 

The following day, Alice couldn’t have acted more delighted
at Marnie’s G-rated version of her evening with Tor.

“I knew you’d have a good time,” Alice said, smiling so hard
her gums showed. “How did your portrait come out?”

Amazing. Although the features were similar to hers, no one
would recognize Marnie as the model. Tor had drawn her in such a way she looked
like a woman from the distant past, perhaps the eighteen hundreds. His use of
peach-colored paper— mingled with brown, yellow and gold chalks—had added to
the portrait’s dated feel.

He’d finished the drawing after they’d enjoyed each other
orally again and snoozed for a few minutes. The second time Marnie had posed,
she was on her bed, the lamp illuminating her face.

“No boobs in the drawing, please,” she’d said to him.

Tor had given her a slow, sexy smile. “Someday, I want you
to pose nude. A sketch just for us.”

His words had sounded so promising, Marnie had grinned.
“Maybe. But only after you ink me.”

Before he’d left her apartment, Tor had promised her an
original design for the tats and to have the other two versions of her portrait
done by the next time they saw each other on Sunday—the only morning he had
free before his shift at the parlor.

From what he’d said, her tats would take numerous sessions
to complete. The intricacy of the design, colors and the amount of skin to
cover on her leg factored into many hours of work for him.

“I’ll book you for the next couple of Wednesdays,” he’d
said. “We both have off and I can devote my full attention to you before and
after.”

“After?”

He’d explained how she’d need to care for her new tat,
including cleaning the area, applying ointment and non-stick gauze. “Babying
you,” he’d said.

She smiled, remembering.

“That good, huh?” Alice asked.

“Oh yeah. The man can draw.”
And do a whole lot of other
amazing stuff.
Marnie’s skin warmed in memory. “He really made me look
good.”

“Hush, you’re gorgeous…every part of you.” Alice glanced at
Marnie’s arm, the scars covered by her long-sleeved, lace top. “Do you mind if
I ask if you told him what happened, how you got injured?”

“I did tell him—he’s such a good guy. I probably shouldn’t
get too close to him though. I was trying not to—”

“Why? Did your therapist warn against you having fun, being
young, getting some happiness for yourself?”

“She said not to rush into anything. Good advice.”

“Have you told her about Tor?”

Marnie shook her head. “She’s on vacation until the middle
of next month.”

“So long?” Alice clucked her tongue. “I’m here if you need
to talk, and I don’t charge.” Her smile faded as she searched Marnie’s face.

After a few seconds, Marnie felt self-conscious. Did Alice
want her to talk now? “What?”

“I know it’s none of my business and you can tell me if I’m
way out of line, but did you tell Tor everything?”

A wave of warmth rose from Marnie’s chest to her face. Her
old urge to run returned. Too bad Alice was standing between Marnie and the
front door of the shop. “No—but I will. When the time is right.”

“Hon, you could be in danger.”

Marnie stepped back. “No. I left before things got so out of
control I couldn’t fix them anymore. None of my relatives know I’m here. I’m
sure everyone thinks I’m still in Miami. Where else would I be? Mamá’s grave is
there.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I haven’t even been able to
visit her. Not one damn time. I’ve been careful.”

“I know, sweetie. I know.” Alice gathered Marnie in her arms
and patted her back. “I’m just saying, if Tor knew why you left Miami, he could
help. Keep an eye out for trouble.”

“I appreciate your concern but I don’t want him to have to
babysit me.” She hugged Alice in return then eased out of the older woman’s
arms. “I need to be strong. Having him know I had a brutal father is bad
enough. I don’t want to tell him about an abusive boyfriend on top of
everything else unless I have to.”

“What if Ethan shows up?”

“How could he? I left without him knowing—or believing—I
would. I didn’t even bother collecting my last check from work or taking my
stuff with me, except for a few changes of clothes. If I hadn’t been worried
about him getting the cops involved in a missing person’s case, I wouldn’t have
left him a note saying I never wanted to see him again and that I’d already
told my uncles in law enforcement he was abusing me. Why would he want any
trouble?”

“Because he’s like most abusers and doesn’t see or hear
anything that doesn’t fit with his world view. Besides, I remember you saying
you didn’t contact your uncles.”

“They never helped Mamá. Why would they do anything for me?
He doesn’t know that though. Trust me, Ethan’s a damn coward. Even if he
weren’t, how can he bother me if he doesn’t know where I am? I have no car to
trace, no credit cards or bank accounts. My internet service is in your name. I
certainly don’t have a Facebook page. I don’t exist any longer. He probably
stopped looking months ago.”

Alice didn’t look convinced. “I hope so.”

“I’ll be fine.” Marnie smiled, praying she was right in spite
of her big talk.

* * * * *

Sunday morning, Tor picked Marnie up at seven sharp so
they’d have several hours before he had to be at the parlor.

“My first appointment isn’t until two,” he said. “Let’s go.
By the way, you look beautiful.”

Her hair was fluffy, cheeks rosy beneath her natural color.
Today, she’d worn faded jeans, leather huaraches and a black-and-white-striped,
long-sleeved tee.

Rather than heading out the door with him, she remained in
her apartment. “Go? Where?”

“To have fun. There are spots other than here, you know.” He
glanced at the bed.

Once she’d grabbed her huge purse—after shoving something
inside he couldn’t quite see—they went to his pickup.

“We have seven whole hours,” Tor said, getting the door for
her.

“The parlor opens at noon.” She ran her fingers up his arm,
making him tremble with desire. “How much did you give Van Gogh to take your
first customer?”

“A thousand.”

“What?”

He laughed. “I told him if he didn’t help me this time, I’d
stop inking in the window, leaving the glory to him.”

“Did he pass out?”

“Barfed but agreed. I know how to negotiate.”

“Bad, bad boy. Where are you taking me?”

Everywhere he could and then some. “My place.”

The house was on the extreme end of modest for West Palm
Beach, built in the late nineteen twenties, with a sizeable yard, lots of
shrubbery, white shutters and a stucco façade in avocado green.

“I know the color sucks,” he said, parking on the street.
“I’m going to paint this baby a soft yellow, maybe beige. I haven’t decided
yet. Lauren says whatever I want is fine.”

Marnie frowned. “She’s your boss at work and here too?”

“Lauren and my brother own this place. Dante has to invest
in something, given the big bucks he’s making again. He’d already paid off our
parents’ house and had or is putting all of us through college. Looks as if
buying up property is next. He and Lauren have several houses already. I’m
renovating this one for them and they’re letting me stay rent-free.”

“Wow, you have some nice people in your life.”

“Even more now.” He leaned over and gave her a deep, wet,
lingering kiss, their tongues waltzing. She tasted of peppermint toothpaste,
refreshing and clean. Tor didn’t stop until they tasted of each other.

When he came up for air, Marnie looked as far gone as a
woman could be, eyes closed, lips parted, skin glowing with excitement. This
morning was going to be something. The first of many they’d share together.

He opened the door of his pickup.

“Wait.” Marnie touched his arm. “I have something for you.”
She pulled a gift-wrapped box out of her purse, the paper shiny and red, the
bow an even deeper scarlet.

“You got me a gift?”

“What woman wouldn’t? You gave me a wonderful night at my
place. Go on, take this…unless you don’t want to.”

Tor accepted the gift before she could put it back inside
her purse or toss it out her window.

“What’s inside?” He shook the box close to his ear.

“Don’t.” She held up her hands in warning. “You’re going to
break what’s inside.”

He stopped immediately, wondering if she’d gotten him a
pretty knickknack from the giftshop. “Sorry. I, ah, have something for you too
inside the house.”

Her face brightened. “My portraits?”

His artwork was the least of what he had for her. “Let’s
see.”

Marnie beat him to the front door, bouncing on her heels as
he opened the lock.

His place smelled and looked good for her, just as Tor had
planned when he’d worked his butt off. The fragrance of lemon wax mingled with
Pine Sol, the hardwood floors were shiny, cloth sofa and chairs clean. He’d
painted the walls eggshell white earlier in the week. With sun pouring through
the slats of the shutters, everything seemed golden, dreamy and inviting.

The medium-sized box on the cocktail table stood out in the
hazy glow, given the wrapping paper he’d used. Bold pink, green and yellow
flowers with
Happy Birthday
scrawled between them. Marnie bypassed the
box as though she didn’t notice it sitting there and headed for the sofa.
Propped on the cushions were Tor’s portraits of her in three media.

She held her fists to her chest, eyes wide. “Oh my God.”

Tor closed the door. “You like?”

Marnie pointed at the one in the middle, tears filling her
eyes.

“What?” he asked, uncertain whether she was about to cry
from happiness or sorrow.

“I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous.” She went around the
cocktail table and bent at the waist to see the portrait more closely.

He’d used watercolors to depict her hair—waves of pink,
green, yellow and a touch of blue. He’d tinted her eyes lavender, her lips
fuchsia. Although the chalk portrait was less colorful in comparison, the art
was also decidedly rich, vintage at its best. He liked the pen-and-ink one too,
the stark black-and-white design reminiscent of Andy Warhol’s depictions of the
rich and famous.

Marnie straightened and threw her arms around him. “You are
a god.”

He grinned. “Well, yeah. But only in the bedroom.”

She smacked his ass. “I can’t believe how talented you are.
You’re— What’s that?” Marnie released him and moved past the box on the
cocktail table again without even glancing at the thing.

Maybe he should have wrapped her gift in red as she’d done
with his.

“Are these my tattoos?” She stood in front of two long
sheets of drawing paper he’d taped to the wall, one for the design for her arm,
the other her leg.

Both showed sprays of 3-D flowers with butterflies and
dragonflies hovering nearby. At the base of the artwork, the flowers and
insects were in black and white. As the blooms spread up and outward, colors
started to take hold. First, a touch of red that Tor had coupled with lavender,
leading to pale blues and greens, followed by yellow. By the middle of the
tats, the hues were blazing, giving the design the same spectacular effect as
The
Wizard of Oz
when Dorothy left her black-and-white farmhouse and entered
the colorful world she’d traveled to.

Marnie threw herself into his arms again, hugging him
fiercely. “Thank you. I mean it. I’ve never seen anything more glorious.”

“You will when I ink you.”

“I can’t wait. You’re sure you can’t do me this morning?”

He laughed. Oh, he could do her and planned to. “Haven’t you
forgotten something?”

“What? Will Lauren be at the parlor? Do you think she’d
object?”

“Probably not but I’m not talking about her or the parlor.
I’m referring to what you missed here.”

She eased back, glanced around and finally sniffed. “Smells
clean. Looks nearly as clean as my—” She stopped, her attention on the cocktail
table and his gift, big as life. Marnie pointed. “Is that for me?”

“I thought you’d never notice.”

“Today’s not my birthday.”

“I had wrapping paper left over from my mom’s party.”

“You’re a good son. Do you always ignore the gifts people
give to you?” She gestured to the box he still hadn’t opened.

“How about we tear into our presents at the same time?”

“Be careful. I don’t want yours to break.”

“I swear I’ll—”

“Race you.”

What? She tore at his box like a kid with a Christmas gift.
Even so, Marnie was finding his a lot harder to get through since Tor had
stuffed the container with wads of newspaper. By the time he’d unwrapped her
dainty package that turned out to be a box of condoms, she’d unwrapped his,
which held three boxes of rubbers.

Tor laughed. “Two minds with one great thought—wait.”
Sobering, he held up his box. “You said these would break if I shook them or
wasn’t careful.”

“I lied.”

She gave him a tantalizing look that raised the hairs on his
balls and had his cock begging for her mouth and cunt.

“Nothing can hurt those babies,” she said. “They’re
industrial strength and big enough for King Kong, which you most definitely
are.”

God, he liked her. If Tor wasn’t careful, he’d fall in love.
Could be he’d begun the journey already. “Oh yeah?” He tossed the condoms on a
chair and crossed the room to her, planting one hand on her ass, the other on
the back of her head. “Think we have enough rubbers?”

“Until noon, then we’re in trouble.”

Laughter poured from him and her, their joy filling the
small house. Tor brushed his mouth over Marnie’s before diving in for a full
taste of her. She drove her fingers through his hair and gripped his gray tank
top with her other hand. Tor wasn’t certain who was grinding their hips more,
her or him. Probably a tie. Her sweet mound made his shaft ache with carnal
need. He was certain nothing could ever feel better than her hard nipples
poking against his chest.

BOOK: WickedSeduction
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