Garden of Steven

Romance, Erotica, Contemporary
Cover of the book Garden of Steven by K. Lyn, Beau to Beau Books
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Author: K. Lyn ISBN: 9781618450524
Publisher: Beau to Beau Books Publication: September 10, 2012
Imprint: Language: English
Author: K. Lyn
ISBN: 9781618450524
Publisher: Beau to Beau Books
Publication: September 10, 2012
Imprint:
Language: English

The man with whom Whitney will spend the day is new to her and she is urged to quicken her pace as she is led to the usual place and provided the usual instructions.  The man welcomes her though he remains hidden from her.  His deep baritone voice is sexy and as he paints her, Whitney daydreams of the two of them together.  In her dream he is touching her and making love to her.  When she opens her eyes he is real.  The man with the deep sultry voice is naked, as is she, and he is coming toward her.  This day is unlike any she has spent here and she wonders if the agency may have made a mistake but she has been cautioned never to question the artist.

Excerpt:
“Welcome to my studio, Whitney.  I am new to you.  The usual artist is not here.  But I can assure you that I am every bit as good as he.”

Whitney turned toward the voice.  The voice was rich and deep, sultry and sexy.  The combination of the baritone voice and the liquored drink made her feel things she had never felt before while working.  This didn’t feel like work at all.  She stepped closer to the easel, not daring to look behind it at the artist, and asked, “Where do you want me?”

******

“I like you this way, natural and exposed, raw and uninhibited.  Whitney began to stand but the artist stopped her.  “Stay as you are.  I must paint you in your most natural state with the heat of arousal still in your body.”

As she lay there exposed in her raw purity, he said, “I must warn you.  I often require several inspirational breaks during my sessions to keep me inspired.  My work must reflect the very best of me.”

Whitney nodded.  She thought she understood.  She lay there just as the artist wanted her to, and he disappeared behind his easel once again.  She could see his eyes as he made long strokes on the canvass.  His movements were fluid and sure, his hands steady.  His piercing eyes were concentrated on her beauty as he worked diligently on his craft.

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The man with whom Whitney will spend the day is new to her and she is urged to quicken her pace as she is led to the usual place and provided the usual instructions.  The man welcomes her though he remains hidden from her.  His deep baritone voice is sexy and as he paints her, Whitney daydreams of the two of them together.  In her dream he is touching her and making love to her.  When she opens her eyes he is real.  The man with the deep sultry voice is naked, as is she, and he is coming toward her.  This day is unlike any she has spent here and she wonders if the agency may have made a mistake but she has been cautioned never to question the artist.

Excerpt:
“Welcome to my studio, Whitney.  I am new to you.  The usual artist is not here.  But I can assure you that I am every bit as good as he.”

Whitney turned toward the voice.  The voice was rich and deep, sultry and sexy.  The combination of the baritone voice and the liquored drink made her feel things she had never felt before while working.  This didn’t feel like work at all.  She stepped closer to the easel, not daring to look behind it at the artist, and asked, “Where do you want me?”

******

“I like you this way, natural and exposed, raw and uninhibited.  Whitney began to stand but the artist stopped her.  “Stay as you are.  I must paint you in your most natural state with the heat of arousal still in your body.”

As she lay there exposed in her raw purity, he said, “I must warn you.  I often require several inspirational breaks during my sessions to keep me inspired.  My work must reflect the very best of me.”

Whitney nodded.  She thought she understood.  She lay there just as the artist wanted her to, and he disappeared behind his easel once again.  She could see his eyes as he made long strokes on the canvass.  His movements were fluid and sure, his hands steady.  His piercing eyes were concentrated on her beauty as he worked diligently on his craft.

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