This week, in Rose and Thorne, our heroes have a little private loving time after a hard night's work. Next week will be the last of them that I'll post, as I end the chapter. I'll keep you updated on the submission process and how it goes. If you enjoy reading about them, cross your fingers!
In the next chapter of Moving Forward, an interesting situation arises, and it's time to think about what to wear on a cruise! I'll keep posting Marshall and Lee, and I'll let you know when the first book becomes available as a free read. Don't forget to see what the other Briefers are up to. Their links follow my tales! Enjoy!
And because I don’t really play fair, I widened my stance
just a little bit and bent over slightly, affording him the perfect view….
I knew I’d won when I felt his tongue swipe across my
crease.
“Skirt first,” I reminded him. His hands fumbled with the zipper,
and for a moment I thought he might rip it out in the throes of passion. The
idea that he wanted me so badly excited me, and I grew even harder. But he had
things under control, as usual. When he’d got the zipper undone, he took the
fabric I held into his hands and gingerly eased it down, along my legs, until he
could hand me out of it. After that, he turned me to face him. The blouse was
quickly unbuttoned and disposed of, likewise my falsies, each item of clothing
landing somewhere on the floor.
Minus my stilettos, I was forced to look up at Ethan, thanks
to the few inches of height which separated us. I was lucky to reach five foot
ten, while he was a hunky six-two and built like a Greek god. “I think you
better reach for the sky, pilgrim,” I said in a breathy voice.
He raised his arms straight over his head as if I’d told him
this was a stick-up. We’d played that game before—among others—but not this
time. No games here, just lovemaking. I
grabbed the edges of his T-shirt and tugged them up and over his head, baring
his beautiful torso. He was so blond his chest hairs were barely visible. In
contrast, his skin was a glorious golden hue which reached all the way down his
body, with no tan lines whatsoever.
I took a moment to admire his physique before I lightly
licked first one nipple and then the other. They hardened at my touch, pretty
coral nubs which I knew from experience were sensitive. Especially to ice. I’d
return to them later.
I pressed the palm of my hand flat against his groin,
against his swelling hardness. “Want me, do you?” I teased.
“You know it,” he breathed. He grasped my wrist in his hand,
and together we rubbed up and down along his erection, as he once more took
control. “Undo my belt,” he directed. I undid the buckle and slid the belt
through the loops, released the single button, and carefully pulled the zipper
down, freeing his cock. He placed our joined hands against his bare skin, and I
savored the feel of him, so warm in my palm.
These were the moments I lived for. Being with Ethan, loving
Ethan. This was who we were and who we were always meant to be. At times like
this, nothing else mattered, and our true hearts were revealed.
I helped him shed the rest of his clothes. And when we were
both naked, we wrapped our arms around one another, our mouths fusing with
desire.
“Make love to me,” I entreated, feathering my fingertips
lightly across his high cheekbones.
He eased me gently onto my back on the bed then reached
across me to get lube from the nightstand.
I shivered in anticipation as he
covered his fingers and then his cock. “Spread your lovely legs for me, baby.”
He settled himself between my legs, his breath warm against
my thigh. He began to slip two fingers inside of me, and I welcomed his touch.
He embedded his digits deep inside, scissoring them to relax the muscle. I
loved the preparation as much as the lovemaking. Loved the care he took to
ensure he never hurt me. No one had ever loved me like Ethan Thorne.
But sometimes he forgot I wasn’t a fragile hothouse flower
either.
“Another one. Please,” I breathily requested. A third finger
joined the other two. I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of him, my lips parted
in bliss. He twisted the fingers, sending spikes of pure pleasure cascading
through me. And when he hit that special bundle of nerves, I thought I’d jump
off the bed, arching my back like a bow.
Pre-cum leaked from my cock. He was overloading my senses. I
wanted him inside me, and I wanted him to suck me. I simply wanted him, end of
story, all at once and everywhere.
He continued to barrage my channel, adding a fourth finger.
I squeezed my muscles, as if I could keep them there forever, although what I
really wanted was his other muscle, and I wanted it badly.
“Oh God, Ethan,” I moaned. “You do things to me….”
He leaned down to me, never relenting the pressure he
maintained inside of me, so close our lips were mere millimeters apart. “I
always want to do things to you, Vinnie,” he murmured. “I only want to please
you….”
“You do, oh yes, you do.” I thrust against his fingers,
needing the strength, the firmness of his touch, wanting and desiring so much
more. “Please, Ethan, I need you inside. Now.”
He knew what I was asking for, knew what I wanted. “I need
you too,” he said just before he claimed my lips, searing them with the bright
passion that flamed between us. Then he drew back from me as he pulled his
fingers out. Normally, he’d lift my legs to get a better angle, but I knew that
wasn’t happening today. He reached behind me, instead, and grabbed two of our
pillows, setting one beneath each knee.
“How’s that?”
“Perfect,” I replied, my heart melting at his consideration.
He slowly and gently eased himself into me, inch by glorious
inch, until he was fully sheathed. He was breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed,
his blue eyes appearing almost wanton in his desire for me. I know he certainly
brought out the harlot in me, and I loved him for it. No one else had ever made
me feel this way, and no one else ever could. Ethan was it; he was my perfect
man.
to be continued
Moving Forward #8 (3.1)
Almost a week had passed since the trip to Partners.
Business was steady, and Marshall was too busy with work to worry about what
had gone down in Tucker Falls. The bruises on his face had faded to a sickly green
that was almost yellow. At least they didn’t hurt any more. Marshall chose to
stay in the house while he healed. He didn’t think any of the neighbors would
pry into his business, but he’d rather not have to make any awkward
explanations in case someone did ask what happened to him. That wasn’t anything
he wished to discuss with anyone other than Lee, or maybe Roy.
“I just got an email from Denver,” Lee said. They’d been
working in companionable silence since lunch, each one focused on what he was
doing.
Marshall glanced up from his computer screen. “Oh yeah?
What’s up?” Was something else wrong, he wondered, something stemming from that
night?
“You remember his cousin Dustin? Denver says Dustin’s got
some kind of problem with his computer, and Denver told him that’s what we do.
He wants to know will we take a look at it.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said sure, we’d take a look.”
Marshall leaned back in his chair, remembering the pushy
blond. At least that had been his dominant impression of Denver’s cousin, even
though he had been grateful for his assistance at Partners. “Is he going to ship
it to us?”
“Well, since he’s so close, he wondered could he drop it
off.”
A chill finger of unease pushed at Marshall’s spine, but he
couldn’t have said why. Maybe because clients didn’t come to the house, no
matter what. That’s why there was the post office—and UPS and Fed Ex—to protect
their privacy. His common sense insisted they knew Denver, and they’d already
met his cousin. Where was the harm? “You didn’t say yes, did you?”
Lee’s expression was inscrutable as he studied Marshall’s
face. “I suggested we meet the two of them for dinner at Milly’s. I didn’t
think that would be a problem. Or am I wrong?”
“No, I guess that would be okay.” Marshall broke their
mutual gaze first, dropping his eyes back to his screen. “When’s that going to
be?”
“I dunno, waiting to hear back from him. I’m much obliged to
him for stepping in the way he did.” Marshall knew Lee was being delicate,
considerate of his feelings. “He seems like a nice guy, don’t you think?”
Marshall shrugged. “I guess.”
“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
Something in Lee’s voice produced an unaccustomed warmth in
Marshall’s cheeks. It took him a second to realize it was guilt. He was being
an ungrateful little bastard, but he didn’t know why.
“You’re right, we should do that. Take them both to dinner.
It’s the least we can do. It’ll be fine.” He forced a smile he wasn’t sure he
felt, and he wasn’t sure Lee was buying it either. Damn, Lee knew him too well,
and sometimes that was a liability.
As he watched, Lee began to rise. Oh oh, he was in for it
now. Lee wasn’t going to let the matter rest, was he?
“You know, I think—”
But before he could state just what he thought, the doorbell
interrupted. “I’ll get that.” Lee shot Marshall a look which clearly told him
the matter wasn’t done with yet. To be continued.
Marshall heard the murmur of voices, then Lee quickly
returned with a good-sized package in his hand and a smile on his face. At
least for now, the subject had been shelved. Marshall felt grateful to whoever
had shipped them this distraction. “That something we were expecting?” He ran
through some of the parts they were expecting in his mind, and couldn’t come up
with anything. He didn’t remember any customers that were supposed to be
sending anything either. Maybe it was someone new who’d seen their Internet ad?
“We weren’t, but I was.”
Well, wasn’t that just all mysterious? And didn’t Lee just
look like he’d done something he was particularly pleased about? Marshall’s
curiosity was definitely piqued.
“You were, were you? You gonna let me keep wondering what
that is or you gonna tell me?” Marshall grinned.
“I’m gonna do better than that, I’m gonna show you. C’mon to
the bedroom. Bring a box cutter with you, I got this.” He headed in the
direction of their bedroom without a backward glance.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Marshall grabbed a cutter from his work table and hastened
after Lee. The package sat on their bed. He tried to
sneak a peek at the return address, but Lee laid his hand on it, reaching out
with the other hand for the box cutter. No sense in arguing. Obviously Lee
intended to show him whatever it was. Marshall handed him the blade, and stood
beside him, patiently waiting.
Lee slit the box open carefully. Marshall caught a glimpse
of packing material, little plastic sleeves of air. They used those themselves
to ship delicate parts. “Want me to save those?” he suggested. They re-used as
much as they could, both for economic and environmental reasons.
“Good idea.” Lee handed him the strips of plastic and
Marshall took them to the workroom and stored them with the others. By the time
he returned to the bedroom, he was amazed to find a colorful collection of
clothing spread across the bed.
“What’s all that?”
“Well, since we’re going on a cruise, I thought we should
get some new clothes. You know… shorts and shirts. Swim suits.”
Swim suits? Marshall had never owned one of those. Generally,
when they swam down at the pond, they wore their birthday suits, and that was
more than fine with him. Of course that wouldn’t do on the ship.
“Long and short.” Lee pointed to a pile of swimwear. “For
whatever mood you’re in.”
“You get some for yourself?”
“Of course. Wanna try these on?”
to be continued
Now go visit the other Briefers and see what they've been doing!
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