Promiscuous. R. Moreen Clarke. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: R. Moreen Clarke
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Эротическая литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780758232700
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companion.

      “Sure, sure. Maybe another time.” Peter regained his composure and then restarted his engine and pulled away. “Have a good time,” he tossed back over his shoulder with a knowing smile as he headed for the open sea.

      Marshall stared out across the ocean and reflected on what had just occurred. What did he know about this woman aboard his boat, except that she was beautiful, vivacious, and sexually insatiable? Are you looking for a wife? a little voice in his head asked. No. Then what’s the problem? He couldn’t change what had already occurred, and this wasn’t destined to be a long-term relationship anyway. By the time he finally went below deck, he had decided not to make any comment on her behavior.

      He found her draped in a towel and still wet from a shower. She was holding a photograph that had been mounted on the wall next to his dresser. She looked up at him curiously and pointed to the photo.

      “Who are these people?” she asked.

      The photo had been taken a few years ago on the deck of his boat. It was an older couple, himself, and a young woman. “Why? Do you recognize anyone?” he asked.

      Deandra smiled meekly. Yes, she had recognized someone. When she emerged from her shower, she took a look around the bedroom, checking out pictures. Most of them were scenic pictures—the ocean, the sunset—and there was one of him holding a huge fish he must have caught. When she stumbled across this picture, her body froze. She hadn’t seen her in fifteen years, but she would bet money that was CJ in that picture with Marshall. CJ, the source of her childhood humiliation, somehow knew Marshall James. It appeared that they knew each other rather well, judging by his arm that was draped over her shoulder and the big grin she was giving him in the picture. “No, not really. Are these your parents?” she said, pointing to the older couple in the picture.

      “No, those aren’t my parents. That’s Tina and Emmett. They are good friends of my mother’s and now they’re friends of mine, a really nice couple. The other person is Connie. She’s a close friend of Tina’s.”

      “Was she your girlfriend at the time?”

      “Connie? Oh no. We’re just good friends. Connie’s not the kind of girl you just fool around with. Connie’s long-term,” he said, and smiled.

      The glint in his eye when he spoke her name told Deandra that Connie was special, even if she wasn’t his girlfriend. “What do you mean she’s long-term?”

      “Well, if you’re going to get involved with someone like Connie, you should be thinking about eventually getting married. Sorry to say it, because it sounds so old-fashioned, but Connie is the kind of girl you take home to your mother.”

      “Ouch! And I’m not?” she countered.

      He laughed and pulled her close, dislodging her towel. He nuzzled his face in her neck and pulled the soft skin of her neck between his lips. “I don’t know you that well yet,” he replied as his dick hardened again in anticipation of another romp. He cupped her breast with his right hand and brought the pink tip to his lips. He circled the protruding bud with his tongue, before pulling the tit into his mouth and sucking.

      Deandra momentarily gave up her interrogation to slip back into bed with Marshall. She welcomed him into her body once again. She marveled at the contrast of his coal black skin melded with her light skin as she watched their reflection in the mirror across from the bed. The muscles in his back and ass cheeks were like steel. His body glistened with a light coat of sweat. His dick filled every inch of her aching pussy as he stroked deeper and deeper inside. She slipped her hand between his groin and her and began to stroke her clit.

      Marshall felt her stroking herself. He knew this meant she wasn’t coming easily this time. He pulled her hand out and held both of her hands by the wrists above her head. He removed his dick from her pussy and replaced it with his mouth. He sucked aggressively on her clit and tasted the juices of her body.

      Deandra bucked wildly under the assault on her clit. She thrashed uncontrollably as orgasm after orgasm rocked her body. Satisfied she’d finally come, he reentered her body and fucked her until he came again.

      Marshall arose from the bed to take a quick shower while Deandra remained in bed, her thoughts in a jumble. Marshall shared a definite affection for Connie. She could hear it in the way he talked about her, something deeper than friendship. She wanted to know more about their relationship, but didn’t want to make him suspicious by asking too many questions.

      She decided it didn’t matter at the moment. There was no way CJ was going to stop her from continuing in this relationship with Marshall James. No way in hell.

      After she showered again, Marshall took her on a shopping spree in Nassau. She was completely loaded down with clothes, shoes, and accessories by the time they returned to the boat. He enjoyed buying clothes for her, and she was like a child in a candy store everywhere they went. Since it had been so long since he’d spent time with a beautiful woman, he did not mind indulging her.

      They returned to the boat, where they made love again, then headed back out to sea and home to Jupiter Island.

      3

      A thin bead of sweat trickled down the side of her forehead as she basked in the plastic lounge chair on the white sandy beach. Her dark brown hair was loosely pushed up under an orange straw-woven hat. A modest orange bikini covered her small but perky breasts and contrasted perfectly with the cinnamon tones of her skin. The Florida heat added its own highlight to this perfect picture by creating a glowing sheen to her skin in the form of tiny beads of sweat. Connie Jefferson was oblivious to the enticing package she made that day on Juno Beach, but someone watching her from a distance was not.

      Listening to her internal clock, she opened her eyes and reached into her beach bag for her watch. It was three o’clock. Another Sunday afternoon spent alone. She sighed and tossed the watch back in the bag. There was no real need to race home; she could stay at least another hour. Turning over on her stomach, she rested her face on her forearms and closed her eyes, allowing the sun to do its job on her well-formed back, shoulders, and shapely legs.

      Thoughts of Marshall drifted unchecked across her mind. She wondered what he was doing and with whom he was doing it. Pangs of unexpected jealousy and dislike arose sharply toward the unknown woman he was probably making love to at this moment. Two years had passed since their afternoon on the lake and he’d never mentioned it. What had she expected? Not as much as a phone call, a note, a card, or something to acknowledge the fact that they had shared an intensely intimate and passionate afternoon together. How about “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding”? There had been no misunderstanding. He’d given her exactly what she craved at that moment. Maybe he could have said, “I’m sorry for slipping between your thighs and leaving you wanting more, for creating a void no man could fill.” Agitated by her thoughts, Connie turned her face to the other side and brushed away an errant tear. She acknowledged the mixed feelings he evoked in her. She hated Marshall James. Hated him for being everything she ever wanted and knew she would never have, and she loved him for giving her one unforgettable moment in time.

      Two years ago in the summer of 2003, Connie took a weekend trip to the Isle of St. John in North Florida with a group of friends. The retreat was hosted by a former employer and close friend. Connie was originally supposed to attend the party with her beau, who unfortunately broke up with her a few weeks before the trip. Her friend Tina assured her the cabin would be filled with several other single guests and it would do her good to be around people and not home sulking. Reluctantly Connie agreed to go alone. She’d always looked forward to any opportunity to stay at the cabin and decided to make the best of her time out at the lake.

      The trip was actually a success, because Connie did forget all about her heartbreak that hot, long weekend, but she replaced it with a memory that would stay with her forever, when fate tossed her a curveball in the form of a well-meaning, gorgeous, compassionate, and sexy Marshall James.

      It was the first time she’d been out to the cabin at the same time as Marsh. They’d met on earlier occasions at the Millers’, but never really spent