Tuesday Tales: Ripped

Morning, world!  We’re back again with another installment of Tuesday Tales.  This one comes from the work in progress we discussed yesterday.  As requested, I’m working on a sequel to Marked, called Ripped.  Some nasty stuff is going to happen later on, but right now we’re going to focus on Tabitha and Russell, and a particularly odd infatuation of his.

The Prompt:  LEGS

Be sure to check out the blog… these ladies and gentlemen are fabulous, and they put a lot of work into providing free entertainment for the rest of us.


The first things Russell saw when he looked up from his routine were her legs; long, shapely pillars of pale, soft skin that almost distracted him from his anger.  Almost.

Cheeky little witch… she knew better than to blow fuses in his high-end electronics while he was attempting to unwind.  And what did she have against Led Zeppelin anyway?  It wasn’t like he was listening to Eminem again…  Russell would have thought she’d learned her lesson when she popped the circuit in his 80″ LED television in the middle of the Super Bowl.

Granted, they’d fought like cats and dogs then spent the rest of the night having fabulous make-up sex, but even her natural athletic ability in his bed was no consolation for the $8,000 television, even if he did sort of deserve it and have more than enough money to replace it ten thousand times over.

But he certainly didn’t deserve it now… whatever it was, he thought as he watched her from the knees down, her calf muscles flexing sweetly as she stretched up on her toes to pull something out of the closet.  He would never admit that he designed her side of the closet just for this very reason – her lack of height amused him.  And he got a good show watching those strong muscles work.

The stirring in the lower portion of his body frustrated him.  He was mad at her, damn it… he wasn’t supposed to want to tackle her and take her on sight.  Not right now.  His anger renewed – more at himself than her this time – Russell used his arms to lift his bulk from the floor and dropped again, still transfixed on her legs as she crossed the room into the master bath and closed the door.

Cheeky little witch.

He continued with the push-ups, slamming his body up and down over and over until his arms burned, hoping to erase the memories of those long, lovely legs wrapped tightly around his head just the night before.  As the shower came on in the next room, he groaned.  He could still smell the soft musk of her body, taste her bittersweet flavor on his lips, feel her thighs tightening as he drove her absolutely wild…

Russell let out a vicious roar and launched himself from the floor.  He’d futilely hoped the exertion would take his anger with his energy, but the sight of her legs and the knowledge that she was naked and wet in the next room overpowered his senses and his better judgment.  He wanted her.  Now.

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