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Authors: Sommer Marsden

Pretty In Pink

BOOK: Pretty In Pink
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WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is
for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an
infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to
the fullest extent of the law.

 

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES
ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language
which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files
where they cannot be accessed by minors.

 

All sexually active characters in this work
are 18 years of age or older.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or
are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events
or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Cover
Design: Valerie Tibbs

Pretty in Pink © December 2010 Sommer Marsden

e
X
cessica
publishing

All rights reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pretty
in Pink

By Sommer Marsden

 

 

Chapter 1

"You are not putting
that thing in my front yard, Janette," Charlie Brewster said.

"Oh, snap the hell
out of it, big brother, it'll make your niece happy. And she has begged to come
to her favorite uncle's house immediately after school. It's a present from
Clarice. Are you really going to say no?"

Arrests didn't scare him.
Paperwork didn't scare him. Undercover, red tape, interrogations and mostly
even handguns didn't scare him. Hurting his precious niece scared the hell out
of him. Charlie blew out a sigh and ran a hand through his short sandy hair. He
grunted, he needed a cut soon. "Fine, fine, put it out front."

When Janette pulled out
the Santa outfit and started to dress the flamingo, he almost changed his mind.
But this was Clarice and Charlie just couldn't say no.
She tweaked the festive hat. “There,”
his sister laughed and out the door she went, planting the dreaded pink bird in
his front lawn.

Charlie had been in the house for
about eight months and so far she had invaded with matching, fancy curtains,
throw pillows, an umbrella stand shaped like an elephant foot and a Welcome mat
with ivy around the edges. Every damn time Janette got her way with, “Clarice
picked it out.”

Then Charlie would cave and let her have
her way. He’d even strung colored lights outside for Christmas, though
Christmas was the last thing he wanted to focus on. Priscilla had left him not
too long ago for the guy who owned the Corner Tavern and Charlie just wanted to
work overtime for the holidays.

It had been a few months, but how fast
was your heart supposed to rebound from a woman who’d stomped all over it and
dumped you out of the blue? How fast did you get over two years of what you
thought was love? And how fast did you get over it when you hadn’t seen it
coming?

If he closed his eyes, he could still
see her there under him, pale skin freckled, her long red hair flashing around
her bare breasts. He’d taken her nipple into his mouth with intent. Sucked hard
so she hissed the way she did when he really turned her on. Charlie had buried
himself in her, thrusting hard to feel that slick warm heat of her pussy
growing tighter and tighter as he moved. He’d kissed her, the way he always
did, like he loved her. Because he had.

Priscilla had given no hint at her
intent. She’d wrapped her long, long legs around his waist and pulled her body
up to meet him, greet him, and take him in. She’d nipped at his neck and
scraped her long pink nails along his back so that he moaned against her
temple. She knew how to give him just enough hurt to make his cock rock hard.
She’d come with a fierce, sharp cry, her pussy gripping up around him with
liquid intensity. Charlie had come too. Happy, sated, loose with his release.
He pressed his lips to hers again, almost said
I love you
, but Priscilla
had turned. “We have to talk,” she said. “I have someone else.”

And that had been that. He shook his
head, far away in his last night with his ex.

“Hey! Snap out of it. She wasn’t worth
it Charlie.” Janette snapped her fingers in his face, reading his mind. They
were twins. He was her big brother, older than her by three minutes and
seventeen seconds. And Clarice was the spitting image of her mother at five
which meant she hugely resembled Charlie too.

“I know. And get out of my head,
she-devil. When does my lovely niece come to visit? Doesn’t she want to see all
her decorator touches?”

“I’ll bring her by after school today,
how’s that? Today is a big day. Christmas celebration in Kindergarten is a big
deal.”

“No doubt.” Charlie stared out the
window at the flamingo planted below his one tree. A short, stocky, Cherry tree
he’d strung with big colored lights to appease his sister.

His neighbor, Kimber, made her way up
her walk, slipping for a moment on a mound of snow. She clutched at the other
woman—who practically lived there—and let out a whoop. Charlie smiled.

“She’s cute.” Janette looked out the
dining room window simultaneously.

“Don’t even go there.”

“But she is.”

“She sure is. She’s phenomenal.
However, she’s right next door. And you don’t mix neighboring with pleasure.
And you don’t do that especially right after a break up.”

“It’s been months,” Janette sighed.

“But it was years,” he reminded her.
“I’m done with women,” he said, half meaning it.

“Yeah? Cause you know I have a great
boss. He’s tall and dark and handsome. He’s hot, he’s funny, he’s—”

“Janette, you know damn well what I
mean.” Charlie watched Kimber  unlock her front door. The wind kicked up again
and snatched her red, knit cap as her long, dark hair flew out behind her. She
caught the cap in flight and another loud whoop escaped her. Her friend, a red
head with a blue cap, shook her head and laughed. He'd met Kimber a handful of
times and every time her mannerisms and her voice turned him on. So he'd kept their
meetings brief.

Charlie smiled again. Damn if his
sister didn’t catch him.

“She really is cute.”

“Shut it, sis.”

“Jeeze. Grumpy much?” She shrugged and
kissed his cheek. “I have to hit the bank and then I’ll be back with one
persnickety, picky, fabulous five-year-old. She will critique Uncle Charlie’s
new house and we will make adjustments.”

Charlie laughed. Funny thing was, she
wasn’t joking. Clarice would come in and tell him how it needed to be, and
because he adored her more than anything, he’d go for it. “Can’t wait.”

“Look at you, you big pushover. If she
came in here and demanded you paint the whole house hot pink, you’d do it.”

“Probably,” Charlie said and let her
out. His eyes found the flamingo again and he shook his head.

“Don’t even think about moving that!”
Janette yelled, laughing.

Charlie continued shaking his head and
went inside. He had the day off and wanted to finally go about the task of
making the house his. He had a feeling his niece would demand a Christmas tree
and he wanted to have the house ready..

* * * *

“He is a Hottie Hotterson,” Sarah
said, her face pressed to Kimber’s kitchen window.

The big, brawny, blond man waved to a
woman who could only be his sister. Most likely a twin. She was so much his
duplicate it was eerie.

“He’s gay,” Kimber said, putting the
kettle on to boil.

“What? He is
so
not gay. He
can’t be gay. God wouldn’t do that to us. That would be cruel.”

Kimber laughed and twisted her hair up
behind her in a knot. Then she pulled out some cookies from the cupboard.
They’d done a lot today, scoping out an office for their temp agency. They both
had experience as temps and knew a slew of women who would love to work their
own hours and part-time. So an idea had been born. Smart Help Temporary Agency
run by Kimber Daniels and Sarah Knight. “He’s gay, trust me. My gaydar is
beeping like a rat bastard.”

“Did you see his abs?” Sarah sighed.

“No. And neither did you. He had a
shirt on.”

“The abs were implied.”

Kimber laughed and put her head down.
“Gay, gay and gay.”

“Why do you say that? Site your
source,” Sarah said. Too many hours temping in a law office, she had the legal
lingo down. A legalese spewing Kindergarten helper. Crazy. And now they were
both working part-time and setting up full-time. It was exhausting.

“He is tall, blond, handsome, cut, and
has a smile like a toothpaste commercial.”

“But—”

“Hold on.” Kimber held up a finger.
“Let me finish.”

“Go on, you party pooper. But for the
record, I don't believe you. It's your safety net, writing them all off as gay.
If you stamp him gay or unavailable, he can't hurt you.”

“Thank you, and duly noted, Dr. Shrink
person. Now, ahem, as I was saying. He dresses nice and I’ve seen him in
uniform; he’s a police officer. Neat as a pin. He has matching curtains in his
front window already.”

“So?”

“So? So, when is the last time you met
a straight man who put matching-nice- curtains in his window immediately upon
arrival into a new house?”

“Hmm,” Sarah said and shook her head.
“I still think you want him to be gay. Then all of the kingdom known as your
neighborhood would be safe for you.”

The kettle whistled. Kimber snatched
it and poured hot water over the tea bags. “Thank you, again, Dr. Freud. I
won’t even mention that charming flamingo he put up when we were outside
earlier.”

“What flamingo?”

“You know you need to become more
observant if you’re going to run a business with me.” Kimber handed Sarah a mug
and they both pressed their faces to the window again, studying Charlie
Brewster’s home. “It really is a shame.”

“But you could be wrong. So what? So
it’s a flamingo. Don’t judge a man by his lawn ornaments. Especially his sexual
preference. I guess Doms should have whips planted in their front yards?” Sarah
shut her eyes, laughing. Sometimes the woman just cracked herself up.

Kimber shook her head, but couldn’t
swallow her laughter. “Sarah, you nut, it’s dressed like Santa Claus.” She took
a sip of her tea. The hot liquid burned her tongue, but the almond cookies were
calling her anyway. She hadn't eaten all damn day. Too nervous. At least
starting this company had kept her distracted from John not being the one. And
Tad. Sam, Bryce and Chris. Two years of loser after loser after loser. She had
officially written off men. Forever.

“So, what? He’s festive. He likes
his…um…flamingo to be in the spirit?”

Kimber laughed. “Yeah. It’s festive
all right. Now search your memory banks, best friend of mine.”

“Yeah?” Sarah sipped her tea and then
dumped four teaspoons of sugar into her mug.

“My god, it’s a marvel you have teeth
in your head,” Kimber said. “Now close your eyes.”

Sarah’s big blue eyes slipped shut and
she shook her head, her red hair swaying around her round, smiling face in a
wave of fire. “Ready!”

“I want you to think about it and tell
me…”

“Yes?”

“The last straight man you met who was
not only a) neat as a pin, b) tasteful and house decorating conscious, but c)
liked to put a holiday appropriate bird in his front yard.”

Sarah blew out a sigh. “Well, shit.”

“Exactly.” Kimber sighed. “And it
really is a shame, because he’s hot.”

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