Finn's Shot (Eden's Odyssey Book 1) Read Free Page B

wild and free, lips parted allowing whimpers of pleasure to
escape her throat as I thrust harder inside of her. When her hands release her
breasts so she can steady herself on my shoulders I brace my feet farther apart
and hammer into her as hard as I can without bucking her off. Screams echo
around the room, and her pussy pulls me in deeper with ripples of her pleasure.
Slipping my hand between us, I swirl a finger over her clit and watch as she
loses her mind. It’s so damn erotic it steals my control. The burning at the
bottom of my spine spreads up into my balls, and I explode with the force of a
shuttle heading for orbit. She collapses against me and squeezes her inner
walls, causing me to flinch as she milks me dry. She giggles a little and
climbs off my lap, and then points me in the direction of the bathroom where I
dispose of the condom.
    This is the part of the night
where I usually leave. Once I’m sexually sated I never stay past this point, because
I don’t want to give women the idea it’s more than one night. With her though
I’m not ready to leave. Maybe it’s because I want to see what she’ll say next
or maybe I just want to discover more about this wild, sexy woman and her alluring
smile. Our brief but lively conversation back at the bar left me intrigued.
    She appears confident and
happy and I’m drawn to her like a magnet. I’m constantly surrounded by insecure
woman who put on a front of being happy, but the sadness lurks behind their eyes
more often than not. With her, the smile is genuine, the laughter pure, the
light in her eyes almost magical.
    As I slip my boxer briefs
back on and return to the living room where I find her now wearing a long black
t-shirt with a Foo Fighters logo on it. Her smile is bright as she offers me a
drink.
    “Yes, some water would be
great.”
    “I realize this is a strange
question, and I understand if you need to go, but I was wondering if you’d let
me paint you?”
    What? Not what I expected her to ask. She has
a habit of surprising me with her questions.
    “Like body paint me?”
    Her giggle is sweet as she
answers, “No, I mean you sprawl out on the futon in my studio, and I paint a
picture of you laying there. I have a television I could turn on for you so you
wouldn’t be bored. If not, it’s okay. I realize it’s a strange request for a
one-night stand.”
    I think about it for a minute
as she stares at me. I’m not crazy about laying there as a subject for a
painting, but if it means I’ll get more time with her I should probably say
yes.
    “How long are we talking?”
    She shrugs. “As long as it
takes,” she answers sarcastically. The left corner of her lips lift in a smirk,
and I laugh out loud.
    I run a hand over my short
beard, smoothing it down as I answer, “Yeah, why the hell not.” Never
encountered a woman like her, and I can’t wait to see what she’ll do or say
next.
    “Follow me.”
    I obey, and she leads me down
a short hallway into a small room. In one corner is a table covered in brushes
and paints, pencils, chalk, and half-done sketches on paper haphazardly strewn across
the surface. There’s an easel next to it. Along one wall sits a futon and
directly across from it on the wall is a flat screen television. The only other
piece of furniture is a small stand in the adjacent corner with an iPod dock on
top of it.
    “Can you watch TV on mute or
do you need sound?” she asks, pulling me from my observations.
    “We can put on a sports channel
and mute it. I can watch the bottom line if I need something to do.”
    “Good, because I love to
paint to music.”
    “Whatever floats your boat.
How do you want me?”
    “Boxers only.”
    She spends a few minutes arranging
me, and when she’s done, I’m laying with one leg crooked up against the back of
the futon while the other is bent at the knee hanging off the side, foot on the
floor. One arm is up behind my head, and I have the other positioned to where
my fingers are in