A month or so back, the rewrite of BLUE MOON was in the capable hands of my nitpicking critique. BLUE MOON holds less content of Sean, but gives the reader the chance to understand and get to know Ethan a little better.
My nitpicker’s biggest complaint? That she didn’t get to see Ethan nekked and naughty.
So, what did I do about it? I knocked this up, simply to keep her happy.
And, I thought, as a Christmas departure gift before I log out for the hols, I’d share it with you all (‘she’ll’ probably hurt me for this, but …).
Anyway, please ignore the fact that it’s as cheesy as all get out, and enjoy.
Thick dark hair topped his head, eyes as tempting as Maltesers stared back at me. The twitch of his lips created a dimple in the left cheek of his full face, and his amusement spread to his enticing gaze to lend light to the darkness there.
Had he not just stepped from the river, I’d had been tempted to drown him myself, just for the chance to see the beads of redacting water across the firm muscles of his shoulders, to see the rivulets weaving between the solid mounds of his chest.
Just as I’d have been tempted to hide every damn towel in sight.
Not that it mattered. No loin cloth covered that guy—none could have.
Defined hips were supported by thighs of steel, and in turn supported abs hard enough to play squash against.
He rubbed at his hair, sent specks spraying through the air. With the lift of his arm came the ripple of brute strength.
I followed its passage until my eyes halted at his groin. My eyebrow lifted a little; my tongue darted out to moisten lips that longed to taste.
“[Insert name here]?” he murmured.
At my deeply-spoken name, I lifted my reluctant gaze north.
His lips curved into a smile as he crooked his finger and beckoned me.
I watched it like the lure he intended it to be.
His finger continued to entice, his free hand slid south across impressive plains. “Come to me.”
Well … I didn’t need telling twice.
Merry Christmas, Peeps.
Have a great holiday.