Nia's Home for the Wicked - Book 3 by P.t. Pelkin

Author:P.t. Pelkin [Pelkin, P.t.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2019-08-28T23:00:00+00:00

Leviticus

Marcus turned his bike onto the parkway. A different, longer way home. Better scenery. Safer than back alleys. Less chance of riding into unknown lands while his mind reels at the choices before him. None of which he can’t undo. With Abagail. Darlene. Kalyce, for the sake of the gods. Nonetheless, a choice, by default, made. Why he’s biking home alone through the park, instead of …what? More than a kiss? Slipping into Abby’s car beside her. Making out for a bit? Perhaps a quick frisking of those wonderful breasts of hers? Or perhaps waiting around for Darlene after her shift ends. Follow her to her apartment, or flat, or maybe her mother’s basement. No knowing where she lives, but see if she invites him in. Advising him of her need for a quick shower. He offering to help soap up her back. Her hair. Her whatever she’ll allow him to.

He smiles. Kalyce a whole different animal. Even fantasizing about her seems recklessly dangerous, not to mention the fact of how it may very well be the case, given the possible current conditions of Abagail and Kalyce. Maybe even Darlene, given her vexing of him, a pregnant woman possesses a certain magnetism. Maybe they smell different. Sound different. He shakes his head to clear the filters, certain if he dwells on this, them, for much longer, he’ll end up weirder then he ever imagined possible. Or crashing into a tree. A bricked wall. Another bicyclist.

Stops shaking his head only to find a clear image of Amelia, Abby’s sister, joining the line of females parading past his mind’s eye. If not for the lighter hue of her skin, she’d be a full-on doppelganger for his favorite muse of the TM file, a real live version bordering on almost too much of a good thing. A throw-out line by Abby, of how the bathing suit her sister wore the last time he saw Amelia, their last visit to the Green Tree, brought on the same result, for him, as her bridesmaid dress. Not surprising, given the way the very voluptuous woman hugged him. No doubt, going for the same reaction, the cheap laugh. He, it, didn’t disappoint.

Marcus chuckles as he slows for the couple on the pathway coming towards him. The warmth of Amelia’s breasts pressed to his. Lines up on the far right to pass them by. The smell of her so close he can almost taste her. Slows even further as he realizes it’s Tesserarius, with the young woman of color he’d seen talking together before. Now walking, her hand draped on his arm.

“Master Tyler,” a dip of his head, a smile to Tesserarius’s face, as one might of his age with one of hers this close.

“Tesserarius Vasil,” Marcus returns in greeting, coming to a complete stop as do they. Immediately aware his remembrances of Amelia’s randy ways. The pressure of the bike seat. The unpleasant friction of each pedal causing a rather pleasant bulge to form in his crotch. Yeah, right.

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