Mourn the Living

Cover Mourn the Living
Genres: Fiction
She stirred in her sleep, a smile playing on her lips. He ran his hand under the sheet and over her smooth body, over her thighs to the flat stomach, across the soft rises of breast, nipples now relaxed, the tightness of passion a memory.
Vicki Trask’s eyes opened slowly; then blinking, yawning, she said, “Are you still awake? It must be after two in the morning—”
Nolan flipped back the sheet. He took a gentle bite out of her stomach, nuzzling her. His lower lip cradled the dip of her navel, hi
...s upper lip tickled by the tiny hairs on her flesh.
“Salty,” he said.
“Hmm?”
“You taste salty.”
“I ought to,” she replied. “You worked me hard enough.”
“It’s good for you.” He moved up to her breasts and nibbled. The tips, remembering, grew taut again.
“Ouch! Take it easy!” Then she laughed and looped her arm around his neck.
He looked into her little girl face and said, “You were good, Vicki.”
The faint light from a street lamp poured through a circular window into the balcony and gave her skin a glow, an almost mystical look, like a textured photograph.
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