Brush Strokes by Dee Carney Page B

her,
the condom capturing the jets of his essence spilling forth. One
day she would love him without that barrier for she wanted nothing
between them when they found precious release with each other. And
she was certain there would be more moments like this. More days
and nights of touching and kissing and loving.
    When at last his breathing eased, his
thrusting stilled. His mouth held on to hers, his tongue dancing
with hers. Her senses roiled with feelings she didn’t fight. She
let the waves of emotion carry her as they kissed, their bodies
fighting to stay connected for a few last seconds before forced to
separate.
    How she loved this man. Her Joe. And
she already knew he loved her back. Yes, there would be more nights
like this. She could afford to let him go temporarily. He would be
back.
    Joe pulled free of her, discarding the
condom before its contents spilled. By the time he returned to bed,
she’d come to a decision. This last “lesson” had been the most
important. The one, as he’d instructed, that she would remember
always.
    “ Where are you going?” he
asked sleepily when she withdrew from his embrace a few minutes
later.
    Tanya brought his hand to her mouth,
pressed her lips against the palm. “I’m an artist, Joe, first and
foremost. Sometimes to the point that I forget I’m a woman too.”
She laughed. “When I look at something unique, or spy the beauty of
something, my first instinct is to capture it on paper.”
    She felt the weight of his gaze when
she released him, found his shirt on the floor and slipped it on.
When she returned his scrutiny, she saw the satisfaction of sex
etched onto his tired face. So typically male, he would be asleep
in no time.
    “ Lay there, baby. The
muscles, the lines, the beauty of my model, I want to memorize
right now. You look like a dream.”
    He yawned. “Your model,
huh?”
    She
almost hesitated, almost questioned whether he could stand that she
would always see him in that light; as a beautiful man who deserved
to be immortalized. But there was understanding behind the way he
looked at her. Acceptance in the way he repositioned himself
slightly, readiness for her to sketch his form for as long as it
took to make her satisfied. He didn’t have to know it was him in
slumber she wanted to capture this time.
    Her mouth curved up into a smile as
she started to walk away. “Yeah, my model. My model, my Joe.” She
glanced at him in time to see his heavy eyelids slipping closed.
She whispered, “My love.”
     
     
    The End

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    About the Author
     
     
    Dee Carney began writing short
stories in middle school, but she did not attempt completion of a
novel until almost ten years later—which, despite good intentions,
she never finished. Almost ten additional years later, she
challenged herself to begin writing again, and her love for
storytelling was rekindled.
    Now, Dee is a bestselling,
award-winning author who lives at home in Georgia with her husband,
two dogs and a cat. When not writing, Dee is usually curled up on
the couch with a good book!
    To learn more about all of
Dee’s books, please visit her at http://www.deecarney.com .
     
     
    Turn the page for the first chapter of
KEEPING PACE from Dee Carney…

Chapter One
    I could say some sort of spell kept me
transfixed to the spot as I watched my neighbor’s son masturbate,
and it would almost be the truth.
    I certainly couldn’t blame the glass of
Pinot Noir; I’d barely had a sip. Instead, I’d swirled the glass,
letting the crisp evening air infuse into the rich liquid. This
habit of mine, pouring a glass of wine as soon as I walked through
the door, was becoming expensive yet was an indulgence I loathed to
break. There was something to kicking off my shoes and padding
barefoot through the dimly lit house to head for the kitchen, where
I’d find comfort in a bottle.
    Tonight I’d decided to head outdoors. The
buttons at the top of my blouse had been loosened, the button