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Post by Alana Betzalel on Oct 13, 2007 12:13:28 GMT -5
Shimmering a beguiling shade of natural pink, he watched her lips as they teased, taunted, and tempted, not hearing a word that passed from that fascinating mouth.
Those glossed lips haunted him during the day as he wandered through meetings and contracts and phone calls, endlessly waiting, aching but patient for his afternoon reward – the discovery he could expect to make when he returned home to her and her beautiful, utterly distracting lips.
And finally, as she giggled about some incident or other, he released himself from the fetters of feigned interest in her conversation and pressed his mouth to hers, stemming the flow of words and licking at his secret prize.
He gave a soft hum in the back of his throat as they parted, the urgency fading from his mind, sated for the moment.
“Strawberry.” It was a statement rather than a question, knowledge that he was correct in his guess urging his tongue to coast his bottom lip to savor the lingering sweet taste.
“Strawberry.” She gave a bouncy little nod before smiling and raising up to kiss him again, “Tomorrow’s flavor will be more challenging.”
He didn’t care. Alana’s Lip Gloss Game was easily Rufus’s favorite.
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