Free Anna Marie Sorenson's Secret Affair by Lynn Young

At first, Anna Marie thought he was going to take his leave then. So she gave a sigh of a thoroughly debauched, thoroughly replete love slave. She turned on her side, put a hand under her head and was ready to fall asleep.
    Then she felt male hands on her clothes and a long, hard male body move over her.
    Drowsily, she opened her eyes and saw that Dallas was completely naked above her. As an innocent would, she ran her eyes over him, taking her time because she did not know not to. But even in her limited experience of male bodies, she knew that here was one man who was magnificently built. She knew that because the sight of him took her breath away. His shoulders were very broad, his stomach flat and hard, his legs very long and tight. Every inch of him was muscled, his shoulders, arms, thighs roped with it, making him rock solid. The natural color of Secret Affair 47
    his skin was a smooth tan that would have made any sunbather or subscriber to tanning salons envious. With him only inches from her, the sheer height and breath of him gave her a sense of being enveloped physically by him. Since he was so much taller than she and so much bigger, everything about him seemed to tower over her, no matter if he were standing or bending over her.
    She looked up at him sleepily, finding it difficult to keep her eyes open. She had to fight off a yawn, her innate politeness demanding that she not yawn in the presence of company, including in front of a man who had been anything but polite to her.
    “What are you doing?” she asked when his hands slid her torn blouse down her arms.
    “What do you think?” he returned calmly, his face non-committal, expressionless. But the way his green eyes were running over her half naked body, the heat in them indicated that he was anything but detached.
    She had no idea how she appeared to a man. Her white skin was rosy hued all over from the sex, and she was half dressed with her pants and underpants half way down her legs. She even still had her pumps on with her knee-highs. Her torn bra lay open at her sides, so that her heavy milky breasts with their large dark coral centers jutted upward, ready for the kiss of a man that had been promised. The way she laid there, half naked, sated, she had the look of a prim spinster gone awry from too much sex, giving her the appearance of a slattern slut.
    “I thought you had to go,” she said groggily.
    Dallas didn’t answer but continued to strip the rest of her clothes off. As he pulled down her slacks, he saw that her panties were about the unsexiest underpants that a woman could wear.
    They were cotton, pristine white, and were made to cover her very dutifully from her bellybutton down to the apex of her thighs. They had nothing to do with bold self-confidence or sensual enticement and everything to do with comfort and practicality.
    He smiled into her eyes that were still heavy from the sexual aftermath, his smile
    predatory but with some wolfish humor. “Now, why am I not surprised?”
    Because she had no idea what he was talking about, Anna Marie interpreted his words
    with her usual insecurity where men were concerned. “I know I’m not the most attractive woman you’ve to been to bed with.” Cringing, she rose to sit on the bed, feeling an awful oiliness of shame chasing away some of the torpor left over from the sex. “You didn’t have to sleep with me, you know.”
    Secret Affair 48
    “Honey, with you, it seems I have very little choice in that. And that’s a first for me.” She turned her head, averting her eyes from his. “You mean I’m not the usual type of woman that you go for.”
    “No, you’re not.”
    She turned back to him, curious. “Then why me?”
    For a moment, Dallas stared back at her, at a loss for the reason, which was rather
    uncharacteristic of him. He had always been a man who was sure of every motive, of every move. That was one of the reasons why he was so good at what he did.
    “Beats the hell out of