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QUINN'S CURSE by Natasha Moore

Copyright © NATASHA MOORE, 2008
All Rights Reserved, RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

EXCERPT FROM QUINN'S CURSE

Over the past few weeks, he’d watch her put as much effort into the work on this house as any of the men toiling here. Most likely more. She’d scrubbed walls and floors until her hands bled. He understood her misery when she groaned and rubbed her back. He felt so damned useless watching her, wishing he could rub her sore muscles. He clenched his fists as he imagined touching her soft skin.

He’d watched her as she stripped her clothing from her shapely body every evening, making his body stir as he feared would never happen again. And each evening as she stood under the marvelous shower, he watched as she let the hot water beat on her tired body and yearned to join her there.

He’d watched her as she slept in her soft bed in a room overlooking the sea. He’d stood beside her bed for hours as she dreamed. As she stretched and turned and sighed and cried. And he could do nothing but observe.

Today, she’d pulled her mane of curls away from her face as she often did while she was laboring on the stained walls or scuffed floors or filthy windows. Quinn ran his gaze along her long exposed throat, across the bare skin of her chest, and onto the tight shirt cupping her lovely tits like a lover’s hand. The tight blue jeans that nearly everyone wore nowadays showed off the curves of her hips and the long stretch of leg. She had a gorgeous body, curvaceous where a woman should be, not shaped like a boy as so many lasses he caught sight of were.

Men in this day and age didn’t have to imagine what was beneath the layers of a woman’s costume. It was a wondrous thing indeed.

She bent over to pick up a roll of flowered paper to cover more of the walls in this small room. Quinn stared at the lush ass facing him and imagined his hands on those firm cheeks, his cock buried deep between them. He blew out a sigh of frustration and she straightened quickly and glanced around her.

He didn’t know what she was looking for, but after a moment, she dropped the roll of paper to the bare wood floor and wiped her arm across her forehead. “Hot,” she said. She strode over to one of the wide window and opened it. A cool breeze wafted through the room, barely enough to move around the heavy air.

Then miracles of miracles, she began to unbutton her shirt, slowly revealing more and more of her smooth skin as the fabric peeled away. When it slipped off her shoulders and slid down her arms, Quinn never noticed where it hit the ground. His attention was focused on her amazing set of breasts cupped by a thin layer of white lace. He’d love to get his hands on those tits. His mouth on them.

If only he could.

She stood in front of the window and he could see the ocean behind her. If there was a more beautiful picture anywhere, he’d never seen it. “Lovely,” he murmured.

“Who’s there?” she cried out. She grabbed her shirt off the floor and shoved her arms back in it.

“You hear me?” The heart he no longer had pounded in his chest. No one had heard his voice in nearly three hundred years.

 

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