Saturday, May 23, 2015

Storyboard Saturday - Justin

Hey all. Hope you have a great holiday weekend. Mine's busy like most, but take a moment to remember our men in uniform. My great-grandfather was on a ship in the pacific during WWII. I had uncles and an aunt in the several branches of the military, as well. 

And I work with retired military in the education field. I have a great respect for them as well. I haven't written a military novel, but at one point that may happen. 

To our men and women in uniform, present and past, I send my heartfelt thanks for all your sacrifice. 

If you read last week's post, I thought I wouldn't get another word out of Justin. But Cassie assured me if I followed him to the barn he'd open right up. 

I watched him check the mares, talking to them in quiet even tones to reassure them. My cheeks heated time and again as his hand stroked down their necks, patting their shoulders, wishing he'd touch me that way. 

As he went about his work, I learned more by listening than asking questions. He talks of breeding practices, keeping the mares separate until their ready for the stallion. Timing the breeding to have the colt born as close to January as possible, since all horses ages are based on that date. 

It seems race horses, no matter what month they are born in a year, they are considered one, two, three, etc. years old in January. I find that odd, but Justin shrugs it off. 

He talks of running a pub with his brothers, joking about the Irish bartender....um... and a goat... Guess I shouldn't talk about that. 

Anyway, as he speaks of his family I learn I was wrong about his siblings. He has six brothers and sisters, three sets of twins. I guess I didn't hear him correctly last week. Must've had something to do with the way he fills out a pair of jeans. My eyes stray to his...

Torin is around somewhere, working with the colts or whatever. I've never been so close to these large animals. Some ignore me, others rush their gated stalls lowering their heads for me to rub, their noses sniffing my hand for treats. 

One, large, and I do mean large. I have to reach high just to get my hand to the tip of her nose. She snorts and pushes against it, and I stumble right back into Justin. He grips my hand steadying me as he murmurs to the mare. 

"She's just pressin' to see if you'll cede to her dominate nature." He presses me forward. "Do no' be afraid. Once you let her know you won't back down, she'll be eatin' out o' your hand in no time." 

Just like Justin has me eatin', I mean eating out of his hand. (Deep sigh). Cassie is one lucky woman. 

As we walk, Justin apologizes. "Sorry for me rude behavior. Me and Cassie had a bit of a disagreement yesterday, and I've not..."

"Oh, a bit of gossip?" I can't help but ask. 

"I don't like to speak ill, but...  He scrubs his hand down his face. "She's a stubborn lass, and I... well I've a temper. She just... still lover her, but can't seem to get away from the past."  

"Say no more." I know exactly what you're talking about." 

"You do?" 

"Yes." I pat his muscled forearm, and let it linger, reveling in his strength. "I'll make sure you two work it out." 

"Huh?" His puzzled look is priceless. 

"Don't worry," I yell as I depart. 

“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re hiding.”
“Secrets? No.” That wasn’t what she meant. She had them, but now wasn’t a good time. When is? Later much, much later. “I don’t have any…” Surely he could hear the lie and would call her on it. The air in the room grew thick and Cassie’s breath pushed out in tiny puffs.
“You’re lying.” Leaning in, he slid a finger across her exposed collar bone. “Tell me.” His finger paused, he raised his eyes and said, “then we’ll put it behind us, and I’ll make us both feel good.
“Has all the oxygen left your brain?” Because it certainly had left hers.
Justin moved between Cassie thighs, his erection bumping against her stomach, confirming that it had. “Tell me you don’t want this?”
Did she? Of course she did… “I…”
“You know what I think?” No. She couldn’t think at all. Only feel.
The need to nip the fluttering pulse at the base of Cassie’s neck, held Justin’s gaze captive. “I think,” his voice lowered, trying to tamp down his raging need, “you never took the chain off because you still want me.”
Yes. Wet heat gushed from her core. He used that voice. The one that had her doing things against her better judgment. Cassie shook her head, trying to clear it.
 Lie. The voice of self-preservation chimed in. But then he curled his fingers around the back of her neck and dipped his head, his nose nuzzled her neck.
Her intoxicating musk scent filled Justin’s nostrils. He moaned, dropping his forehead to hers. “Cassie, I…”  
Swallowing, Cassie finally found her voice, trying to sound icy but it came out as a whisper. “Tha... that’s absurd.” Hold up. She wanted to hold on, to his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his hips as he drove inside her wet pussy. 




Historical Euphemism of the day for Sex

Labor Leather Time Period: 1500 - 1600 Leather needs to be conditioned to keep soft and pliable aka lots and lots of practice in bed.