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This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design: Willsin Rowe

Hunger © December 2009 Willsin Rowe

eXcessica publishing

All rights reserved

Hunger

By Willsin Rowe

I waited for the punch that never came. Warily I glanced into Darren’s face, but found no anger, no resentment, just a calm, slightly amused detachment. I searched for a diplomatic way to answer his question, realising that by hedging so long I already had.

“Uh…”

“Come on, Brett. It’s obvious. How long have you been in love with her?”

I figured if he was raising the issue, then I may as well raise the stakes.

“Since before she met you, Dazz.” I felt an almost drunken relief. Finally, I’d told someone how I felt about Corinne. Real shame that someone was her husband.

Darren just nodded, like he already knew the answer and just wanted to force me to say it.

“You don’t want to hit me, or something?” I still had my hands halfway up to my face.

“Look at her. How could I blame you?”

I stared into their lounge room, where Corinne was quietly reading, apparently – oh, god, hopefully – out of earshot. She was sprawled fluidly, face down along the couch, her loose cotton dress folding intimately around her large and beautiful frame. Her tanned arm dripped from the edge of the couch like hot vanilla fudge, her fingers drawing nothing on the floorboards. One leg was bent at the knee, her sweet, bare foot describing small, random shapes in the air.

I ran my eyes up and over the scrumptious swelling of her bottom, following through to her exposed and awe-inspiring shoulders. Her creamy skin held a fascination for me that was beyond a mere crush, leaning dangerously toward obsession.

She’d tied her wavy chestnut hair into an unruly pony tail, which gravity had drawn down the side of her neck and out into space. My throat tightened as she raised her hand from the floor and absent-mindedly twirled the ends of that luscious mane. Everything she did, everything she avoided doing, tiny movements or body-wide gestures, just made her one big mess of sex. How I ached to lean my face against her throat, to smell that sweet hair, taste her caramel skin. Just a spoonful to start with. Corinne’s the kind of delicacy that would go straight to my hips…well, between them, anyway.

“You done?” Darren’s quiet voice slapped my libido across its churning groin.

“Uh, yeah. I think I’m all done. I better go, this is just awkward.”

“Brett…”

“Thanks for the beer, Merry Christmas–”

“Brett.”

He was sterner this time. I halted my humiliated retreat for a moment, releasing a sigh of resignation.

“What?”

“It’s okay. Really. You’ve known her, what, 15 years?”

Fifteen years, five months and twelve days. “About that, yeah.”