Sexy stories feature writer Moriah Jovan and are excerpted from her novel, The Proviso. The Proviso is available from B10 MediaWorx (electronic versions) and the print book is available from Amazon, along with her newest release, Stay. Moriah Jovan writes romance with a few unexpected twists and turns, usually involving sex, religion, money, and politics-all the things your mother told you not to talk about in public. She lives in Kansas City, Missouri, and, when not involved with her kids or her day job, spends her time listening to the voices in her head conversing with imaginary friends. You can follow her on Twitter - she's pretty interesting, we promise!
"Did you do this, Eilis?" Sebastian asked. "This garden?" "Yes." "I'm- This is- Breathtaking." "Would you like a tour?" she asked, hesitant, as if she didn't trust that he was telling her the truth. "Yes, I would love one." She didn't seem inclined to talk and neither did he. He took in every bit of color and he knew she was watching him. At this point, he wasn't sure if he wanted more to stare at Eilis or Eilis's garden. In the back of the house was a swimming pool. Winding around the property, there were cobbled paths that served as a simple framework for its various beds of autumn flowers that, around trees, were built with stacked stone and, on the hills and in the dales, with no banding whatsoever. One path diverged and meandered through the lawn, then turned and disappeared into a small glade. Mourning doves and other evening birds called; frogs croaked. Around the bend of the path, there was a very wide stone bridge over a creek. In it, she'd planted lemon grass to keep mosquitoes away and rushes, and had strategically placed rocks so as to get a gurgling sound that she could probably hear on a still night, to clean the water as it went through, and to keep mosquitoes at bay. "Eilis," he said suddenly, earnestly, his attraction to her only increasing exponentially at this display of artistry and skill. "You are a master gardener. I might not know much, but I do know that. You've done this magnificent work yourself and I-" He stopped and looked around. "I'm awed. I could spend days lost in here." She sniffled and he went around her to find her with her hand to her nose and tears streaming down her face. "What? What did I say?" he asked, almost panicking because he must have said the exact wrong thing. "My-" She gulped and tried to squelch a hiccup. "David- My ex-husband. He thought it was a waste of time." "Eilis, look at me." He knew she didn't want to because she was crying, but she did anyway. "The man embezzled almost a hundred million dollars from you, half of which Knox wasn't able to recover. Why would you care about his opinion?" "I don't care, exactly," she said. "But I had to redo my entire garden to get rid of the sound of his mocking in my head. I still don't bring anybody here in case they... I don't know why I let you see it." "Eilis, this is a work of art," he murmured. "I've been to the best gardens in the world and this-this work you have created with your own two hands-rivals them all." He could see that she wanted to believe what he said, but didn't really. "Eilis." He loved her name and said it every chance he got. "I speculate in art. I know greatness when I see it." This time he didn't ask permission first. He enfolded her in his arms, the back of her head in his palm, and kissed her. Lightly at first, he felt her acquiesce; deepening the kiss, his tongue teasing hers, pleading with her to come play with him, he felt her melt into him. If he thought Knox wouldn't crack his head open for it, he'd lay her down in a bed of dying wildflowers and make love to her right then and there, amongst the wonder she'd built.
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