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Authors: Cari Quinn

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He reached around her and rubbed her clit, his fingers
slipping down to hold him inside her pussy for a heartrending moment. She
looked down, transfixed by the sight of him inside her, of his fingers holding
him there. And then he moved again, fingers moving too, and she shattered.

Karyn whimpered, helpless to stop it. Her eyes closed
against the whorl of light that exploded in her head. Before she’d recovered,
he pressed her shoulders against the cold glass, her sensitive nipples grinding
into the frosty pane as he thrust one last time and erupted inside the condom.
He rode out the climax, his body jerking, her name tumbling from his lips. “
Karyn.”

Eyes still closed, she smiled.

For a while, neither moved. Maybe he’d somehow dropped into
unconsciousness while slumped against her in what had to be a most
uncomfortable position. Stranger things had happened.

She opened one eyelid and caught him grinning at her in the
glass.

“You almost screamed.”

“So did you.” She didn’t sound defensive. Hell no. She
couldn’t have been more triumphant if she tried. “You’re still shaking.”

“Is there a scorecard?”

She moaned as he slid out of her, rubbing all those freshly
stimulated nerves, and his smile stretched in the glass.

“If so, that moan just lost you a point,” he added, his tone
smug.

“Really?” She let her forehead hit the window and struggled
to reclaim her breath. And her wits. “Feels like I won to me.”

“C’mere. You gotta be cold.” Unaware of her sudden and
complete paralysis, he took her arm and tried to get her to stand. “Karyn?”

She shifted clumsily into a sitting position. Her legs felt
as limp as undercooked spaghetti, her thighs a quivery mass. “Gimme a sec.”

“Take two.” He disposed of the condom in the trash can and
slid down the wall beside her, his ass hitting the bare floor with a thud. He
slanted her a sideways glance, a grin again teasing his mouth. “I’m gonna want
to do that again. Soon. Just so you know.”

“How soon? I think I broke something.”

“Oh shit. Did I hurt you?” He crawled over to her and cupped
her cheek, his brows knitting over his narrowed eyes.

She laughed at how rapidly his fatigue vanished. “No. I’m
fine. But it’s been a while, you know?”

“Yeah.” He sank back on his heels, his palm still cupping
her face. His hand felt so warm in contrast to the cold gnawing at her spine.
“For me too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. At least a year. Probably more. I try not to think
about it.”

His suddenly fierce expression made her laugh again. “It’s
harder for guys. You have reps to consider.”

“Some rep. I’ve spent more nights with my hands around a
book than a woman.”

She liked imagining him with that pencil she’d seen behind
his ear earlier, a thick hardback in his hands. A little line of frustration
wrinkling his forehead as it did now. “To some women, that’s a turn-on, you
know. Players do nothing for me.”

He hesitated and she knew the specter of Lon had jumped
right back into the conversation. He never stayed away for long. “Handy for
me.”

Karyn reached out to graze his jaw with her thumb, savoring
the beginnings of stubble. She’d never seen her ex with stubble. Or with his
mouth as deliciously soft and used as Jeff’s.

“How’d we end up here?” she asked softly, not expecting an
answer.

“Luck,” he said, turning his head to kiss her palm. “Blind
fucking luck.”

“Guess I was owed some eventually.”

“Me too. I had to listen to Daze all night long last night—”
He cut himself off quickly but not quickly enough. His gaze shot to hers.

She cocked her head. “They were loud?”

“Karyn—”

“Maybe back in the day we were loud too. It all seems so
long ago now.” She worried her lower lip. “I want to know. I’m fine with it.
Really.”

He shrugged, his features taut. “I don’t know. I guess.
Probably seemed louder because I was only a wall away.”

She glanced down at her legs, spread wide enough to
accommodate him kneeling between them. If her gaze continued, she’d see her
curled-under toes, a persistent—and annoying—nervous habit. She wasn’t
unaffected and her feet proved it.

Then again, she had other proof. Wet thighs for one. She’d
had an orgasm. An astronomically wonderful, beyond compare orgasm. She’d come
hard and easily. For someone who’d had to work for every climax for a while,
that was huge. The rest she’d deal with later.

“Lon hasn’t been too much of a screamer recently either,”
she said, glad her voice sounded thoughtful rather than sad. “Your sister must
be really good.”

“I’d rather not think on that much, thanks.”

Smiling, she brushed a stray lock of hair away from his ear.
She couldn’t touch him enough. She wanted to cuddle, just curl up and lie
beside him with his breathing a steady rhythm in her ear, his heartbeat slow
and relaxed under her hand. “You live with her?”

“No. I have my own place. But the damn exterminators were
there this weekend. One of my downstairs neighbors has a shitload of cats and
we all pay the price after a hot summer like we had. Though you can’t tell it
now with the damn snow.”

“I like cats. Lon was allergic. As soon as we settle the
divorce and I move out, I’ll go down to the pound. Hopefully my new apartment
will let me have one.”

“Move out? Why?” He looked around the room. “I can see how
much you love this studio.”

“You can?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
“How?”

“All the details. The crystals, the frilly curtains, these
really useful cushions.” He patted the window seat and she grinned. “You’ve
nested here.”

“Nested, hmm?” She sighed. “Yeah, I guess I have. I’m used to
fussing with a classroom, making it homey and fun.”

“I like it,” he said, looking around again. “My place is
generic central.”

“Really? I can’t imagine anything about you being generic,”
she said as he turned his truly dazzling grin on her.

“So why are you moving from a place you love?”

“The house belongs to Lon. It’s been in his family for
generations. My name’s never been on the deed. It’s my own fault for never
pushing it.”

“So push it in the divorce. That’s the best time to make a
stink about every damn thing anyway, right?”

She shook her head, idly stroking his hair. “Not for me. I
just want this all to go away. I hate fighting. Just not temperamentally suited
to it. Easier to find another place and start my new life that much quicker.”

“He’s cheating on you. Right now.”

“We’re separated. Technically I just cheated on him too.”
She patted his shoulder and eased around him to stand. She didn’t really want
to think on that at the moment. The last thing she wanted to feel was guilty,
when she wasn’t to blame for any of this.

“You’re saying the louse didn’t cheat before the
separation?”

Rubbing away the goose bumps rising on her arms, she crossed
the room to pick up her discarded clothes. “No, I’m not saying that. I know he
did.”

Jeff rose and wandered over to her easel, seemingly
completely comfortable naked. Unlike her. “So take him for all he’s got. Any
judge would side with you.”

She didn’t answer as she struggled to put on her smock. Pity
her hands weren’t steady enough yet to manage it.

He glanced over at her and dipped his thumb in the little
well of yellow paint in the tray. “Why are you getting dressed?”

“I’m cold.” She couldn’t exactly be relaxed while sitting
around in the nude in front of a guy she’d met that evening. Clothes would help
her think more clearly.

“So let me warm you up.” He openly studied her, his gaze
sliding over every part of her he could still see. The rest she suspected he
was remembering. “These paints. What are they made out of?”

“Vegetables and plant extracts. I teach preschool and—” She
stopped talking as he approached, her horsehair brush in one hand and the cup
of yellow paint in the other. “What are you doing?”

“Are they nontoxic?”

She raised her eyebrows, reasonably sure where he was going
with his line of questioning. “Yes. I buy them from a company in Sweden for
just that reason. Sometimes I take my paints to school and the kids get their
hands in everything. These are completely safe. Washable with just soap and
water and nonpoisonous if they accidentally eat them.
Accidentally,
” she
stressed.

And she was babbling. What the heck did he plan to do with
her yellow paint?

His hot blue gaze held her motionless. “Do me a favor,
Karyn?”

She didn’t agree. Not yet. “What?”

“Take off your smock.”

Chapter Four

 

“Jeff—” Karyn began.

“I always wanted to paint stuff. Thought it would be fun.
I’d like to paint you.” Jeff saturated the brush, brought the dripping tip
close to his nose. “Damn, this smells good. Like ice cream.”

“It’s also made with milk.” When had she started shivering?
“I’d have to take a shower right away.”

“We can do that.” He waggled his brows and made her smile.
“You can do me too. Just don’t paint anything I can’t afford to lose.”

A laugh escaped her as she shrugged out of her smock yet
again. “Ditto.” Taking a steadying breath, she strolled to her easel. “How do
you feel about red?”

“Why red?”

“Because it’s an angry color and I rarely use it. You seem
like you’re capable of exploding into rages if provoked.”

She frowned. Why had she said that? Though she’d been teasing,
he probably didn’t understand her humor yet.

He only grinned. “Other ways I explode are much more fun.
Let me demonstrate.”

“Why do I believe that?” She came back to him, her backup
brush and red paint in hand. “Just a little,” she warned as he moved closer,
brush extended. That wasn’t all that had extended. His cock hardened, not all
the way but gaining ground fast.

She tried not to stare and realized she’d lost the battle
when he chuckled. “Look your fill. I am.”

Before she could comment, he smeared yellow in the valley
between her breasts. The cool paint made her tremble and her nipples tightened
to obvious peaks. “It’s cold.”

His mouth curved. “I’ll warm you up. Promise.” He painted
the center of her torso, twisting the brush so the slightly rough bristles
scraped her skin. God, everything he did to her felt so good.

“You know what I’d like to paint?” he asked after adding
another couple of experimental flourishes to her quivering belly. He circled
her, jabbing the brush into the paint so hard she heard it bump the bottom of
the cup. “Your ass. Both perfect round cheeks.”

“Yellow? That can’t be sexy.”

“It is from back here.” He’d already started sweeping the
bristles down her left cheek. That she couldn’t see precisely what he was doing
added another thrill. “I’d love to see this ass in jeans. It’s made for them.
Those really tight ones, with the low-rise waist.”

In spite of herself, she giggled. Actually giggled. “I don’t
wear those kind of jeans.”

“You should.”

“Mmm hmm. Maybe with a tube top too, no bra. And my hair all
loose. Oh, and high heels. The really high kind I can’t walk in.”

He continued to paint her left cheek. “Slutty makeup. You
forgot the slutty makeup.”

“I don’t wear makeup.”

He stopped, craned his head to look at her. “But you’d do all
the rest? I like you, Karyn.” He hesitated. “What’s your maiden name?”

“Allison.”

“That’s a first name.”

“It’s a last name too.”

“Karyn Allison,” he said under his breath, resuming his
painting job. A moment later, he put the paint back on the tray and washed the
brush in the cup of water. “Middle name?”

“Colette.”

“Karyn Colette Allison. That sounds like a doll on a shelf.”

“A naked doll at the moment.” She turned and raised her own
brush, waving it through the air. “My turn.”

He didn’t move, waiting for her to come to him. And come she
did, bearing a brush laden with red paint. While he grinned down at her, his
hooded eyes revealing how much he was enjoying this impromptu painting party,
she swiped red lines over his chest, stippled the paint over his pecs. She
caught her tongue between her teeth and concentrated on her design, only
lifting her head when he hissed out a breath.

Teasingly she flicked his nipple with her fingernail. “See,
told you it was cold.”

“Not why I hissed.” Jeff glanced pointedly between them. His
erection now pointed due north, quite unabashedly. “That brush feels really
good.”

“Apparently.”

“Don’t,” he said when she threatened to crown his pride and
joy in red.

She laughed. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“You done yet?”

She added a couple more finishing touches. “Now I am.”

Once she’d reorganized her easel and cleaned off her brush,
she led him into the adjoining small bathroom so they could check themselves
out in the mirror on the back of the door.

“You painted a smiley-faced daisy on my chest,” he said,
astonished. “With a little sun and clouds.” He tipped his head sideways. “Those
are clouds, right?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I like flowers.” She turned around
and let out a laugh at the twin smiles on her butt. “More smiley faces. We’re just
a happy pair tonight.”

“Apparently,” he said, echoing her earlier reply with a
grin.

He tugged her into his arms and covered her lips with his,
sliding his tongue deep in one silky motion. She sucked on him lightly, arching
her body against his so she could feel every inch of the hard cock trapped
between them. He pulled her even closer, mashing her breasts to his chest in
his quest to eliminate all distance between them.

Soft strokes and tender words of praise might’ve made her
suspicious but his rough manner helped her to trust him. What she saw was what
she got with Jeff Maddox. And what she saw, she liked. A lot.

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