If Wishes Were Horses by Joey W. Hill

Author:Joey W. Hill [Joey W. Hill]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: none
Published: 2013-02-19T16:00:00+00:00

65

Joey W. Hill

supported her back, shoulders, neck and legs so she felt she could lie forever in that position without discomfort.

“Good?” he asked, kneeling beside her, his face just above hers, the planes etched by light and shadow like the still perfection of a Greek Adonis. Or perhaps Osiris. Hades. Adonis seemed too innocent for what she saw in those dark eyes. She reached up and slid her fingers over his jaw, startling herself. He sat still for a moment, letting her touch him, then he turned his head. He pressed his cheek into her palm so her fingers covered his eye and touched his brow, as if he was drawing absolution from her touch. When he moved back, he took her hand, closing his fingers on her wrist. He took hold of her other wrist and slowly pulled both arms over her head and left them to drape decadently over the pillows. The position raised her upper body, tilted the angle of her breasts and pressed her hips more deeply into the pillows.

“He said I was a dead fish,” she said abruptly. “In…in bed.”

Justin paused, his body hovered over hers like the shelter of a dangerous guardian angel. When their eyes met, Sarah set her jaw. “I know he was mad when he said it. He wasn't cruel, normally.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

He had been mad, but his words had scarred. She had learned that it took less than two seconds to spit out something that could never be taken back, like bullets ejecting from a gun. A life forever altered by the discharge.

“I guess,” she said, thinking she was insane, bringing up something she had never talked about with anyone, “I wondered if it was true. No.” She grimaced. “That’s a lie. I believed it. Believe it. I guess I’m just thinking…maybe this was all just the spontaneity,the newness. But your class, it got me to thinking.”

He folded his legs and sat next to her hip, bracketing her body with his own bybracing one arm across her. With his other hand he took the edge of her robe hem andbegan to draw it up.

“Justin—”

“Just to mid-thigh, Sarah.”

He slid back and folded the soft cloth to where he said he would, though a high

mid-thigh, so she felt certain he was looking at her dampening pussy. Something in her stomach trembled, a knot of emotions and physical reaction that ached. Though she knew it was a warning she should heed, she lay still beneath his attentions.

“You have beautiful legs.” He traced a path from inside the back of her knee up the inner slope of her right thigh. She swallowed hard as he went up, and up, to just beneath the hem, perhaps five inches from the area between her leg and the soft outer lips of her cunt. His fingers trailed down her leg to her knee again, an erratic path.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her question a bit breathless.

“Touching your leg.” He tilted his head to fix one glittering eye upon her flushed face.

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