Its Thursday Throwout time

Inadequate= word of the week

I say this only because I have been fully introduced to the beauty that is my co-authors writings and I now feel painfully under qualified to be in their presence. They are great ladies, and would never outright bash me, but I feel like if I were them I would cut my losses and walk. I suppose all authors feel this way at some point. I just take into account that there are those that support me and are happy to read my writing. This is what continues to push me onward. So thank you all for returning to read on a weekly basis.

I jumped back into Muse Vol 2 and am still doing a second read through of Scarred. I have my first beta reading it, though I have not finished my read through. I warned her of my ridiculous dyslexia, so hopefully she does not laugh me of the planet. Anyway, I want to wow you this week. Provide something that is well worth the read. So here is one of my favorite scenes. I don't know if I have already posted this, so hopefully its new for all of you.

**WARNING IF YOU DO NOT LIKE NOVELS OF THE EROTIC NATURE DO NOT READ FURTHER**

Detour


 

Tempie

 

                I dreamt about the man with the grey eyes last night.

                He walks in to the bathroom, finding me in the large tub. His jeans unbuttoned, his erection showing plainly through the material of his boxer briefs. His chest is bare and I can see his tattoos wrapping around his body.

                “I saw you watching me.” He says, dropping his remaining cloths to the floor at his ankles. He starts to stroke himself again, his gaze never leaving mine. “Do you like to watch me?”

                “Yes.” I gasp. My hand drifts to my clit once more, unable to control myself.

                “I want to see you, stand up, and let me watch you too.” He demands and I comply.

                I don’t feel self conscious as I stand, the suds from my body wash running down my body, exposing my milky flesh. I continue to touch myself, staring him down and challenging him to ravage me. He runs his hungry gaze over my body, only when he looks me in the eye once more, I see it. Disgust.

                “Pig.” He grunts out. Abruptly stopping, he pulls up his jeans and walks out.

                As I get dressed the next morning, I chide myself for thinking this way. I know it is the breakup killing my self-confidence, but as I drove for hours on end, I decided that after seventeen years of being with someone I needed to spend some time on myself for a while. I gather my possessions and zip up my suitcases so they were ready when my car is. I hang all the towels I dirtied the night before to dry and take one more longing look at the garden tub, before heading down to the kitchen.

****

Well now that I am thoroughly mortified..and nervous about your reaction...I will bid you farewell till next week.

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