"Lust, passion, sex, lies, deceit, all became entangled in our liaison, smothering the real reason we'd grown so attached to one another, love."
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Maggie Carpenter grapples with the fact that a ghost from her past has sudd...
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Jackson -
Maggie's bare skin glows red and pink in the ever-changing neon lights as she removes her black dress and tosses it to the ground in front of me. She stands exposed in a lacey black bra and panty set with nothing to shield her but a slight jesting smirk.
She permits my eyes to gaze over her body and I can't stop my hand from nervously running through my hair as I stand in awe of her. I'm not given as long as I'd like before she confidently turns to skate away again.
An insatiable hunger has started to build in my chest, prompting me to follow her. I skate slowly but steadily, purposely trailing a ways behind her. She's taunting me as she glides effortlessly through the rink with the occasional glimpse over her shoulder to be sure I'm still watching. Oh and I most certainly am, I'm absolutely mesmerized by the show.
Maggie bites her bottom lip in the devilishly sexy way she does when she's concentrating and I mimic her, nervously bringing my lip ring between my teeth. She glances over her shoulder once more and her eyes glisten as they fall on my mouth. I know this simple gesture drives her wild, as hers does me.
Her hands reach behind her to unsnap her bra and watch the straps slip off her shoulders, I'm unable to see her breasts released from their cage but the image in my mind is enough to quicken my pulse.
My eyes darken and I wet my lips as she tosses it to the floor, I'm suddenly parched. I swerve around her bra, careful not to roll over it and ruin the moment.
Fuck.
I feel my breath constricting and my jeans tightening as I watch her tantalizingly spread her arms catching the wind as she glides forward. She's completely exposed except for an impossibly thin fabric covering her ass. I feel as if I'm watching an erotic figure skater gracing the world with her performance. But it's not the world she's blessing with this show, it's me and only me. I'm completely gobsmacked, I must be the luckiest fucker in the world, she's mine.
The skating rink is cool enough that as I skate closer to Maggie, I see the goosebumps trickling down her arms and her nipples rising to greet me. Before I catch entirely up with her, I toss my v-neck to the ground and her eyes roam the tattoos that stain my chest.
When Maggie first saw my tattoos it's was as if she was mesmerized. She'd lovingly tracing the lines with her finger, captivated by the idea that each tattoo is a unique facet of my life. I've written too many tales to tally, but the significant stories are the ones I've engraved in permanent ink. I plan to write our story one day, but I can't seem to unearth the right words.
How could I possibly ever describe this remarkable woman? Maggie dropped anchor into my life while I was drowning in my own sorrows and cleared my skies of dreary days. We've breathed life into one other and showed one other how to truly live. Wherever she and I end up, however many novels I write, our story will always be my favorite.
