by Lorin, Terra
“Good!” Angela says with a triumphant smile. “I’ll pack you guys a lunch.”
My eyes widen with horror. “Oh, please, please,” I plead, “no stinking fish sticks!”
* * *
With a small picnic basket in Marcus’ hand, we walk through a colorful and maintained rose garden, and then along a path to the lake. They have a gardener taking care of the landscape around their property once a week. Since I’ve been here, I’ve seen the man with his two sons (Angela told me who they were) tending to the outdoor chores each Wednesday.
“It’s so gorgeous out here,” I say, breathing in the fresh, crisp air. “Too bad Angela couldn’t come with us.”
“By the way, thank you for offering to help her.” His eyes look at me with sincere gratitude.
“I’ll do my best. I’ve been reading about agoraphobia on the Internet, and there’s one site in particular that gives instructions on which workbooks to get, and the methods the guy used to help himself conquer the disorder. If we follow what he did, it might help Angela in the same way. It’s hopeful anyway.”
“Anything’s worth a try. And please let me know how much money you need, so I can reimburse you for whatever you spend.” He turns his head to gaze at me now and then as we walk.
“You’re paying me way more than what I’m putting out for you, so don’t worry about it. The workbooks don’t cost that much.”
“Putting out for me?” He stops and looks straight into my eyes with a devilish smile.
“Ugh. That came out wrong.” My face heats up and I’m probably red as a cherry.
At the same moment of my embarrassment, my breath catches as sunlight gleams his light brown hair, highlighting its streaks of gold, and illuminating around him like an aura.
Handsome is just too simple a word for how this man looks. And let me tell you, there are no words for what his soft brown eyes do to me when he stares into mine. They captivate me, drowning me in their gaze, and once drawn in, I can’t tear myself away.
“Angela has taken a real liking to you,” he says, his eyes still pulling me in, causing my heart to beat rapidly, and my skin to tingle.
“And so have I,” he adds, in a tone so soft, so tender, I just about want to fall into his arms.
He flashes me the most dreamy smile and my heart melts like butter in a hot frying pan. My gosh, what the hell is going on with me? How can I be this gaga over some guy I hardly know? I’ve never been this pathetic before. Well, maybe when I was a teen, but I’m no boy crazy adolescent girl anymore. Still, being with him, inhaling the scent of his manly cologne—he stirs my insides, and I feel as though I’m having a crush on my very first boy.
God, I think I’ve been single far too long. My loneliness and wanting of the attentions of a gorgeous guy, to feel the comfort of his arms, his kiss on my lips, and the sweet nothings he’ll whisper in my ear, have taken control of my senses.
And all this he makes me feel with just a look—granted, a swoon-worthy, dreamy look—but a look just the same. He hasn’t even touched me yet. I wonder what I’ll become when that happens.
Did I just say ‘when’ and not ‘if’? Well, I’m all for positive thinking.
“I–I–I like you and Angela too,” I say, stumbling on my words. Shit.
“I’m sorry. I make you nervous, don’t I?”
What am I going to say to that? I think for a moment. Well, I guess I should just speak the truth.
“Yeah, you do. But it’s not you. It’s me. I’m just not used to people I’ve just met expressing their feelings so openly and forthright, I guess.”
“Ah. Looks like we’ll have to do something about the ‘just met’ part, huh?” He rubs his chin. “Now, how can we speed up our getting acquainted? You’ve had two weeks with Angela, so I’ve got to make up for lost time here.”
As if a light bulb goes off in his head, he widens his eyes and says, “By George, I’ve got it.”
He holds out the picnic basket to me. “Here, hold this,” he says.
As soon as I take it from him, my body lifts in the air, and he’s carrying me in his arms. I let out a small squeal of surprise.
“Enjoy the ride, mademoiselle.”
Instinctively, one arm wraps around Marcus’ neck, while the other holds on to the picnic basket as it rests on my tummy. Marcus carries me effortlessly as though I’m the weight of a child as he strides towards the lake I can see in the distance.
As we approach the bank, he puts me down.
“What say we rip off our clothes and jump in buck naked,” he says with a grin that stretches ear to ear.
“What? You’re kidding me, right?” My body shivers at his suggestion.
“What better and faster way is there to get to know each other?” His eyes search my face, playing with me.
I eye him intently, still unsure if he’s joking or serious.
“Seriously. You’re kidding, right?” I repeat.
He laughs, probably finding the shock on my face humorous.
“Of course I am. Unless you like the idea.” He smiles mischievously.
What a tease!
He really had me going there for a second. I have to admit, the idea did stir up some excitement in me, even though I probably wouldn’t have gone through with it. Yeah, I’m a chicken.
“Sorry, but you didn’t eat enough of my tarts to grant you admission to view my wares.”
“Damn. A chance to see your wares would’ve been worth the blisters.” His eyes scan down my body, and that familiar aching incites my groin.
My God, we’re flirting obscenely. But damn it, I’m loving it! I haven’t felt this alive since . . . well, I don’t know when, because quite frankly, it’s been a while.
“Come,” he says and takes my hand.
We walk down the short wooden pier where a rowboat awaits. He climbs into the boat first.
“Pass me the basket,” he says.
I do as he asks.
He sets it down behind him and then holds out his hand to me. I take it, and with his help, I settle into the boat across from him.
“It’s not as exciting as skinny dipping with you, but it’s the next best thing right now.” The sunlight puts a glint in his light brown eyes and they captivate me again, but I manage to utter my retort.
“I don’t know. I think watching you burn your mouth on tarts might be the next best thing,” I tease him.
“Hmm, how many of those things do I have to eat to be granted access to your lovely body?” His eyes look into mine seriously.
Oh my God, I know we’re just jesting with each other, but dang, my crotch is on fire with all this flirting.
He is kidding . . . right?
Chapter 8 - Marcus
~* Marcus *~
Flirting with Laura is such a kick. She’s teasable, like Angela. With some people, you have to be careful how you tease them, because they can take it offensively, but not teasable people, they jump in and give it right back to you.
Laura’s still a little cautious with me though. She’s not always sure if I’m joking or serious. I find that appealing because I can have a lot of fun with her and keep her guessing.
Yeah, I’m naughty, but hey, naughty is a hell of a lot of fun.
I’ll give her a week and I’m sure she’ll know me as well as she knows herself. I’m not a complicated man, especially when it comes to a woman. I say what I feel in my heart without reservation, or worrying about how she’ll take it—whether it’ll put a blush to her cheek or make her laugh.
Both my parents were that way—wearing their hearts on their sleeves, as the cliché goes. And I probably inherited that trait from them. David was the opposite; he didn’t express himself freely. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth. Angela is like my parents and I, she has no qualms about exposing her heart. If she ever lets a man into her life, to love her, he’ll be one lucky guy—he’ll never lack from her att
ention, or her affection.
“Sir, access to my body is worth a hell of a lot more than a few pieces of tarts,” Laura tells me.
“Will two pieces buy me a kiss then?” I start rowing us out onto the lake, but my eyes never leave hers. I sense she’s finding our quips stimulating and entertaining. I sure am.
“Maybe,” she says flirtatiously, yet with a sassy undertone, “but you’ll have to earn it with more than just your appetite.”
This woman is right up my alley—and she’s quick with the comebacks.
“What’ll you have me do?” I ask.
She taps her chin as her eyes look at me musingly.
“How about you strip off your clothes and jump in the lake naked?”
I stop rowing. Did I hear her right? Her bold suggestion comes as a complete surprise, especially because she didn’t go for it when I threw it out to her—but then again, it meant her getting naked too, so I’m sure that made the difference.
Hmm, now I’m the one wondering if she’s joking or serious. Looks to me as though she’s trying to one-up me at my own game. Do I want a kiss that badly from her? My eyes gaze down at the swell of her lips. They sure do look luscious and I wouldn’t mind a taste.
Hell, why not.
Without saying a word, I pull off my shirt. I watch her eyes glance over my chest—she likes what she sees.
With my eyes focusing on hers and my lips in a smirk, I start to undo the button on my 510 Levi’s.
She gasps as her eyes bulge.
“Stop!” she yells out as she holds her hands over her eyes.
“A deal’s a deal,” I tell her, although I stop my striptease because it’s no fun unless she watches.
“Are you still stripping?” she asks.
“I’m waiting for you,” I say.
She drops her hands.
“I was kidding. I’m not sure I’m ready to see you naked.” Her face blushes as her baby blues gaze over my pecs and abs.
“You’ve seen a guy naked before, right?”
She doesn’t reply with words and instead nods her head as her eyes continue to survey my body. I’m glad she’s liking what she sees.
“Well, it’s no big thing then,” I tell her.
“You mean you’re small as my pinky?” she quips, holding up her baby finger.
What?! Oooo, she wants to play dirty.
“Hardly,” I say with confidence. With a devil’s grin, I add, “But you’ll see soon enough.”
She gulps with nervousness, but her eyes tell me that she wants to see more.
I take off my shoes and socks. As I stand, she holds onto the sides of the boat while it slightly rocks, but this rowboat was custom built for stability so the movement is slight. We could actually walk around in it without much tipping. I unzip my jeans, and pull them down to my knees. I sit back down and take them fully off. All that covers me is my maroon boxer briefs.
She’s staring at me.
“You’re willing to do this just for a kiss? Are you hard-up or something?” She chuckles with amusement.
“Yes.” I look her straight in the eyes. “I’m hard-up for you.”
Okay, I know that’s bold, but I sense she can handle it. We’re still flirting, but it’s also the truth. I haven’t been this interested in a woman in a long time, and Laura’s been consuming my thoughts.
I have to admit, I’ve been lonely in the romance department. I miss intimacy with a woman, inhaling her sweet scent while I whisper in her ear, feeling her soft, supple skin as I glide my hands over her sensual curves, kissing her lips, and holding her in my arms—these things I do only in my dreams now. I’ve let my love life go because I’ve had to take care of my sister through her trauma. I’m not complaining though, she needed me, and still needs me, but maybe now with Laura here, there’s a chance for both me and Angela to have normal lives again.
“I want to change the rules. You can keep your underwear on,” Laura says, looking at my boxer briefs.
Thank God I don’t have a boner yet, but if she keeps looking at me that way, hmm, my girth and length will expand to full capacity in no time. She’ll certainly blush like a schoolgirl then.
“There’s no fun in that,” I tease her.
“Suit yourself, but giving you a kiss after I’ve been staring at your bare ass, not to mention your other . . . um . . . parts, is going to be mighty distracting. They’ll be the only things on my mind.”
“So be it,” I say as I remove my last piece of clothing.
A soft sound escapes her lips as her eyes transfix onto my cock while I stand before her in all my naked glory.
“You’ll need to sit still while I dive off this deck,” I tell her.
When we were kids, my father had this rowboat specially designed so that the front end has a deck and we would sit on it, and even dive off it. It’s designed similar to the way fishermen convert their rowboats into bass boats.
I step onto the deck and look back to see Laura staring at my ass. I dive off and hit the water. When I surface, I gain my bearings, and spot Laura’s beautiful face smiling at me.
“Nice dive,” she calls out.
I give her a smile, wipe the water off my face, and say, “Your turn.”
“Oh, no, that wasn’t the deal. I’m not getting into that water with you, and especially not naked.”
“You can leave your underwear on,” I say as I swim towards her. My hands grasp the side of the boat and I give it a rock.
“Hey, hey! Watch it,” she protests as her arms reach out and she holds onto the sides.
“You can swim, can’t you?” I ask.
“Yes. But I’m not going to.”
She’s not budging, so I guess I’m not winning this argument.
“Okay, as you wish, Buttercup,”
Just as I’m about to pull myself onto the boat, my face contorts into a horrific panic.
“Ahhhhh, ahhh,” I yell out as though something’s got hold of me. I submerse under water.
“Marcus!” I hear the muffled sound of her voice calling out to me. “Marcus!”
I hide myself under the boat, waiting to see what she’ll do, and hoping she’ll bite. Damn, I hope my breath holds out longer than she does.
There’s commotion in the boat, then all of a sudden there’s a splash, and she’s in the water. Whew, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve held out. Bubbles surround her as she suspends under water in front of me. Seems she took the time to remove her sundress before diving in, thinking I needed to be saved. I’m sure she did it to spare it getting wet, rather than for my benefit. Either way, I’m happy to view her curvaceous body in her sexy, lacy underwear.
I swim towards her and grab her around the waist. A shitload of bubbles escape her when she feels my touch. I turn her around to face me, and we ascend to the surface and gasp for air.
“You dirty rat,” she finally manages to say and pulls away from me.
She splashes water on my face, and we both laugh hysterically. I move in towards her and she tries to swim away, but I’m faster than she is, and I grab her and pull her in to me.
I hold her in my arms and her eyes gaze into mine. Our laughter subsides, and our mood is now serious.
“I believe I’ve earned my kiss.”
She doesn’t say a word and continues to stare into my eyes. I gaze down at her lips and lean my face in towards hers. Her eyes close, and I close mine, our lips touch, and I draw her tighter to me. With her body pressing on mine, I feel my temperature rise and our kiss becomes bolder. Damn, she’s a good kisser. Now, even the chill of the water can’t cool down the heat in my loins.
Christ, I’m getting a boner.
Chapter 9 - Laura
~* Laura *~
I was wrong. As Marcus kisses me, which is escalating to the level of ‘passionate’ and leaving ‘friendly’ at the wayside, I’m totally absorbed in his lips and not his ass . . . well, okay, maybe just a lit
tle, but with his strong arms enfolding me, pressing me against his hard, muscular body—his ardent kiss brings my head to swirl. I have kissed many times before, but not like this. And it’s our first one.
Where in the world did he learn to kiss like this? I always thought Keith was a good kisser, but not even he can compare—Marcus puts him to shame.
I’m sure he can feel my heartbeats thumping wildly as my breasts press against his chest. His hands move along my back and I shiver and tremble at his touch.
This is moving way too fast, and I’m not sure I’m ready for it, even if I want it—long for it.
I pull myself away, gasping for breath.
Marcus looks at me with surprise.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing. I–I–I need to catch my breath, that’s all.”
“Okay.” He tries to read my face. “I’ve probably taken more than what I’ve earned anyway.”
He smiles at me so sweetly that I want to flush my reservations down the toilet. Damn. Why do I have to let my head get in the way of my heart? But it’s too late, I sense he’s going to give me my space.
We swim to the boat and he lifts himself out of the water and onto the deck. With one foot on the deck and the other on the floor of the boat, he holds his hands out to me.
Keeping my eyes averted from what dangles between his legs, which not even the water’s chill could keep his excitement from showing—he pulls me up to sit on the deck. He steps back a few paces to move his weight so the bow isn’t so dipped. I scoot across the deck until I sit facing him; his back faces towards me.
I watch him put on his boxer briefs, and as he does so, my eyes can’t help but notice the scars on his back—I know they’re from the accident.
He doesn’t attempt to put on any other piece of clothing and instead turns around to look at me.
Before I can move any further, since he stands in my way, his eyes scan over me, slowly, deliciously. Oh, how he makes my stomach flutter, while warmth surges through me, bringing a flush to my face, and tingles to my skin.
“Can you please pass me my dress?” I ask him politely, breaking his mental ravishment of me.
