A Harem of One [The Moreland Brothers 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) Read Free Page A

The simple exercises never felt this naughty when doing her morning workout at her house.
     
    * * * *
     
    Marques found himself stumped. The beautiful show he watched left him with a hard shaft and eyes in awe. His hands clenched, and he wished that he could film her, right now, and there was no sex needed to spice the tape up. Her movements were innately graceful without pretense or artifice and would show well on the camera. No hesitation, as if the changing screen gave the woman it shielded modesty and allowed her to be more shameless than any exotic dancer. Each sway of limbs brought him closer to breaking her fragile peace by announcing his presence.
    He shook his head and backed away for the second time that day. The door snicked closed, and Marq steeled himself against the desires he didn’t have the time or patience to indulge.
    Marques was still lost in thought as he wandered the halls of his ancestral home. The east wing was devoted to the Eastern cultures, and priceless tapestries graced the hall at eye level. The one he passed first was owned by a sheik before his father won it in a game of dice years ago. Another was the story of Scheherazade enchanting her husband for a thousand and one nights. That particular piece was actually four separate mats woven by hand. They each told a portion of the tale, complete with characters from the stories the woman used to save her life. It happened to be his favorite, especially the tale from the last hanging. It depicted what happened to Scheherazade after she had no more tales to tell. This version had her husband initially giving the order for her death in anger, a gruesome seating by elephant, a process which had the condemned tied down and an elephant was commanded to sit on the person. But the prince couldn’t watch her die and ordered her to be let go.
    Once he reached the intersection for the south wing, Marq decided to walk outside. The grounds were lavish at any time of day, but something about the blush of dawn lent a feel of childhood nostalgia to the beauty around him. Aimless wandering led him to the small studio he’d cobbled together his first movies in. At that time in his youth, they were regular movies, with a plot, screenplay, and extras. At best the movies were D-list. Not even straight to DVD, but they gave him the ability to understand the workings of film. It was much-needed experience that helped him make the best of shots, lighting, and his setting to this very day.
    But with his first forays into film on his mind, he reminded himself that his last film wasn’t very good, and he nearly scrapped the entire thing. Not that it was Dakota’s fault. She was wonderful as always. But his performance was lacking. His heart wasn’t in it. His body barely was. He even faked coming after Dakota received her pleasure. His cock went soft, and the presence of her copious juices and condom aided in the deception. But when she left, he knew Dakota was adding two and two. Her expression said she had four as the answer, but she was willing to let the lie stand. When he watched the playback later, Marq saw fucking and nothing else. There was heat and two sexy people, but no spark. Tawdry and lewd, he’d been wearing blinders, and it was his brother’s fault that he was no longer satisfied with the status quo.
    Three months ago, Charyn asked him for a favor, and it changed his life.
    “Marq, I need your help.”
    “Sure, what is it?” Marq would give Charyn anything he asked for. Especially after Charyn helped to free him from the guilt that sent him into self-imposed exile in Japan.
    “I want you to film a movie for me.” Charyn’s grin let Marq know what he was asking for.
    “You want me to make a movie with you and Makenzie? A flick?” Marq knew he rambled, but the shock kept him speaking until his thought expressed itself clumsily.
    “Yes. Why does that shock you?”
    “Well, I would have thought that you would prefer to keep Makenzie to yourself.