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Lost for the moment in her own thoughts, Larissa ignored the icy wind as it teased a tendril of blonde hair from the chignon caught low on her slim neck, and sent it dancing across her cheek and into her eyes. Larissa shivered and clasped her woolen coat tighter to her slim frame, but not before the cold wind managed to work its way under the fur trimmed collar, eliciting a shiver as it caressed the warm skin of her neck. She moved quickly and slipped through the wide front doors and out of the cold. The heavy doors slammed behind her as a sudden gust of wind tore them from her grasp.Shimming out of her coat she hung it on the hook by the door, before she made her way across the wide foyer towards the ancient desk and the roaring wood fire. Mrs James, ensconced in an ancient chair, waited patiently, warming her feet on the hearth; her birdlike frame lost amongst the pile of bright cushions.“Back again Larissa, although I should’ve guessed, it is Friday. I could set my calendar by you girl, you know…regular as clockwork,” Mrs James cackled to herself as her ancient head nodded its agreement. “Yep, Friday seems to come around quicker and quicker every week. Hmm hmm, yes it does.” Without pausing for a breath she continued, “You’ve got the place to yourself again, girl. Should I make us a cup of tea?” It was the same comment she made every Friday and Larissa obligingly laughed.She warmed her chilled fingers over the crackling flames and grinned her approval of the offer, “I’d love one Mrs James; I stayed outside too long and the wind coming in off the water is bitterly cold this evening, but please, let me make it?”“No, no, I need to get these old bones moving, I’ll bring it to you…the Blue room?”Not really waiting for an answer, she bustled out of the room and into the small kitchen; the sound of off key singing accompanied the clinking of china as she set about making tea.“Thanks, Mrs James.” Larissa called out over the clanking of cups, not really expecting an answer as she made her way out of the foyer.Larissa loved this old house; converted at some point into a small gallery which show cased the talents of local artisans. The quiet building echoed with Larissa’s footsteps as she strolled along the familiar halls. Glancing now and again at a favourite painting or the occasional new display, she made her way slowly from one room to the next, absorbing the peace and quiet.She loved coming here, particularly during winter when it was so quiet, the rush of tourists over and the island once again restored to the locals. The peace of the old house soaked into her soul, easing the pain of the last few months.Although she ambled somewhat aimlessly through the house, her slow steps took her on a steady path towards the ‘Blue Room’. Larissa smiled fondly at the rather fanciful name Mrs James had saddled upon, what was in reality, a rather unpretentious room; it’s one redeeming feature the rather spectacular view of the Island’s wind swept beach.A new painting caught Larissa’s attention as she moved down the long, wide hallway. It looked to be by the new artist who’d moved to the island a month or so back, ‘Patrick Wynter something or other,‘she thought. It was quite different to the typical Australian bush landscapes and ocean sunsets that normally graced the walls of Emerald Island’s one and only gallery. It was vivid and wild, flowing colours and bold brush strokes. Passionate, was the word that sprung to mind.Larissa was distracted from a closer inspection by a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye, a security camera twisted on its mount, focusing in on her. Larissa’s forehead creased, it was a pity that the gallery needed to install the intrusive things, but with the tourist rush due in the next few months, and the risk of theft growing, the younger artists had requested an upgrade in security.Feeling a little cheeky and sure that it was only ol’ John, the long suffering Mr James, Larissa lay the tips of her fingers on her pouting lips and blew a kiss at the watching lens. She smirked at what she imagined was John’s answering toothless grin, she winked and continued down the hall. She deliberately rolled her hips so as to enhance the swirl of her skirts and draw attention to the rounded curves of her bottom. Larissa held back a laugh as the camera swivelled on its mount; the whir of the lens zooming in, had her glancing back over her shoulder.Her sultry blue eyes locked with the lens and she slid her tongue slowly between her teeth, pausing momentarily before caressing her plump lower lip with the pink tip. With the devil in her well and truly taking control, Larissa drew the palm of her hand up the length of her leg and over the rise of her hip and brought it down with a sharp crack against the curve of her bottom. She threw her head back and laughed, delighted with herself, before she twirled and danced through escort izmit the door way into the Blue room, the echo of her giggle disappearing with her.***Patrick almost swallowed his tongue when the elegant blonde spanked her arse and twirled through the doorway, to be honest his cock had twitched the moment he’d caught sight of her as she stopped in front of his painting. He’d focused in on her face; he was man enough to admit to wanting to stroke his ego, he’d been hoping for a touch of admiration, but had gotten far more than he’d bargained for when she’d played up to the camera in such a provocative way.He’d spotted her as she swayed down the hallway; a tall, willowy blonde, sleek and refined, dressed in black from head to toe, hair caught loosely, with curls escaping from some bun thingie at her neck. And then in the blink of an eye she’d exploded into a wanton vixen. Her skirt, twirled, lifted and exposed a seductive flash of creamy thigh; she possessed a wicked grin and blue eyes that captured a man’s soul. Okay, so he exaggerated, it wasn’t his soul, but his cock that she now owned.Flicking the switch from camera four to seven, he observed her as she stood entranced by the ocean vista framed by the wide expanse of floor to ceiling windows; her whole demeanour showed a woman deep in thought.When her fingers clenched and she spoke over her shoulder, Patrick quickly adjusted the volume. Her voice was low and carefully modulated, as if she held herself together by the slimmest of threads.He unabashedly listened in on the couple’s conversation; watching the woman transform from cool, reserved beauty to a passionate woman in the blink of an eye. The contrast fascinated him. As he listened, heard her anger and bitterness erupt, he wondered how she could’ve ever believed she was to blame, or for that matter, believe the excuses this Michael had used. Any red blooded man with half a brain could see she oozed passion.***Larissa stood quietly, hands clasped behind her, gazing at the storm tossed waves as they battered against the rocks, sending spumes of white foam high into the air. She loved this view more than any other on the island; it always granted her a moment’s respite from the torment that she kept hidden.With an impatient toss of her head, Larissa shook off her melancholy. No more, that’s it, over and done. He’d moved on, was in fact getting married; she’d heard that delightful tit bit of gossip only this morning over the water cooler at work, then again at the fuel pump, and yet again when she was buying her groceries. The gossips passing on the juicy details; in that ‘just thought you’d want to know’ sympathetic tone, eyes avid and searching.“Rissa?”Only one person ever called her that. Larissa crumpled slightly inside at the sound of Michael’s hesitant query. God, why today of all days, did he have to search her out?She straightened her shoulders and plastered on a cool smile as she glanced over her shoulder. “Hello, Michael.” She turned slowly, and let her eyes drift over the man she’d thought she was going to spend her life with. “Congratulations, I hear you and Mandy are to be married?”Michael winced, “Ah, you’ve heard. I wanted to be the one to tell you but…,” his voice trailed off awkwardly, as his eyes shifted uncomfortably under her steady gaze.“Yes, well you know Emerald, everyone knows what you had for dinner before you’ve even cooked it.” Larissa’s attempt at humour felt flat, even to her own ears.“I’m sorry, I really am. You shouldn’t have had to hear it from someone else.”“Four someones actually,” Larissa a couldn’t help the dry comment. ”Why are you really here Michael?”Michael’s imploring eyes met hers, “I just wanted…. needed to speak to you, Rissa. I wanted to tell you how much I miss you, how much I,” he stumbled to a stop, his big hands open wide, held out towards her in a helpless gesture, as if he’d run out of words, “How much I love you.”Larissa couldn’t help her jaw falling open and the shocked laugh that escaped before she clapped her hand over her lips. “What! What did you just say?” her voice sounded strangely high and pitchy, even to her own ears as she stalked across the room.Her finger jabbed furiously into his chest as she let him have it with both barrels. “You left me, remember? Had an affair. Remember?” Larissa took several deep breaths and reigned in her fury. Her fists clenched and unclenched as she took in several more slow, calming breaths.“I seem to remember your excuses when I found you both fucking in my bed; ‘She was young and exciting’ you said, the sex out of this world… that I was staid, unadventurous, and just a little, what was the word…ah, that’s right, boring. You said I was a fucking boring lay, and now you come here, and …and … You love me! Are you serious?” she couldn’t help but laugh, and even though it was tinged with a touch of izmit escort madness, she enjoyed the release.“She’s pregnant, Rissa, that’s the only reason why we’re getting married. I never wanted to marry her, and honey, she’s driving me crazy!” Michael’s astonished face pleaded with Larissa to understand. “You would not believe what I have to put up with; her constant talking, she never stops, all day long, nagging me to take her shopping, wanting to change my clothes, forever going on about this friend or that being mean to her. Mean to her, what are we, high school?”Larissa held up her hand, laughing “I dont know what you expect from me Michael? It’s your bed, you made it, now you get to live in it. This is what happens when a 38 year old man sleeps with a 21 year old girl. Consequences are a bitch, Mike.”Larissa felt the months of self-blame lift from her in a rush. It had never been her fault that this child of a man had left her; it was his immaturity and constant need for adoration that had caused the split.“I thought that we…?”Larissa cut him off, “Stop right there Michael, I’m done. Your problems are no longer mine; I wish you and Mandy the best of luck, I really do, but I’m just not interested anymore. Goodbye, Michael.”“Rissa?” Michael tried again, his smile, the same one that used to melt her heart only a few months ago, now only left her annoyed. What grown man pouts for goodness sake?“One more thing, Michael, don’t call me Rissa – Okay.”Michael swung away on his heels, brushing past Mrs James and her husband. John held out the steaming cup of tea, “You all right, sweet cheeks?” His concern for her evident in the angry look he sent Michael’s retreating back.“You know, John, I really am.” Larissa smiled naturally, for what felt like the first time since she’d walked into her bedroom and been confronted with the Mandy’s smug smile and jiggling breasts; her lithe, young body riding shamelessly upon Michael’s rigid cock.Larissa sipped her tea, laughing softly “Did you see the look on his face when I told him not to call me Rissa anymore? I thought his head was going to explode,” Larissa giggled in nervous relief, “My God that felt good,” she sighed softly, as she glanced around the room once again.The camera abruptly shifted on its mount. Frowning slightly, Larissa took a couple of slow steps toward it, glancing curiously back at John. “Who’s working the security cameras?”John smiled indulgently, “Ah, that would be my sister’s son, Patrick, he loves his gadgets. When I mentioned we were putting them in he said he’d hook it all up for me. I jumped at the chance, seeing as I don’t know squat about that techno stuff.”John glanced at his wife, wrapping his arm around her narrow shoulders “Come on ol’girl, let me take you home, so you can make me dinner. I’m starving.”“Don’t ol’ girl me, or I’ll make you eat brussel sprouts for a week!” Mrs James cackled evilly at the look of mock horror on her husband’s face. She glanced at Larissa, “Gotta keep him in his place, otherwise he takes advantage. Stay a little longer Larissa, Patrick’s still here playing with his toys. Just snip the door; he’ll lock up when he leaves.”“Thank you Mrs James, I will.” Larissa listened to their affectionate bickering echoing down the hall. Left alone with her thoughts, she sipped her steaming tea, drifting back to stand before the windows. The sea still looked wild, but she felt truly at peace.Larissa didn’t hear the heavy tread of footsteps as Patrick walked down the hall towards the Blue room, and when he entered he was able to observe her quietly for a moment. She was truly a beautiful woman. Startled by a movement out of the corner of her eye, Larissa turned quickly with a surprised gasp. Stood quietly just inside the doorway was a tall, dark haired man. He had an intense face, which looked a little intimidating until the corners of his full lips twitched slightly and he smiled. The smile did something to the harsh angles, rearranging them to create a devilish grin. The deep creases at his eyes fanned out; ‘laugh lines’, the idle thought skittered briefly through her mind, she rather liked them as they hinted at a roguish side and enticed her to smile back.“I’m Patrick Wynter, I think you noticed my painting a while back?”His grin was infectious, and the way his hazel eyes roamed appreciatively over her face had Larissa reaching up to adjust the wayward lock of hair hanging over her eyes.“Sorry?” Larissa arched a single eye brow, as she tried to follow the man’s train of thought.“The painting of the woman dancing under the autumn leaves; you don’t remember do you?” he sighed. “I’m crushed; I thought it made rather an impact, the way in which you licked your lower lip I thought…” Confusion cleared as Larissa put the pieces together under Patrick’s laughing gaze.“Ah, your John’s nephew, I didn’t izmit kendi evi olan escort realise you were also, ‘the Patrick Wynter’, the artist everyone’s been raving about. Welcome to Emerald Island, I’m Larissa.”Larissa felt her slim hand engulfed in the heat of Patrick’s; pleasure tingled and surged through her system, as she tilted her head up to smile her welcome. ‘Such beautiful eyes,’ she thought. Her smile turned into a soft huffing laugh when Patrick raised the back of her hand to his mouth. The press of his warm lips created an unexpected surge of liquid heat to pool between her thighs.Slipping her hand out of his, Larissa placed a small distance between the two of them and with a sheepish smile explained her actions.“I thought it was John, operating the camera I mean. If I’d of known it was someone other than him I would never have…,” she shrugged slightly, “Well, you know,” she smiled ruefully as she mimicked the spank to her rear end.Patrick grinned, and his eyes stayed locked on the curve of her hip. “Oh, I don’t know, I kind of liked the flash of thigh myself, and ah, the sexy mouth pouting, licking thing you did.” Patrick’s deep chuckle had Larissa’s lips tugging into a small grin, “Well, feel free to do that anytime you wish.”Heat surged through Larissa, as she realised that Patrick was flirting, she laughed, delighted at the notion. It had been too many years to count since a man had done that.***Patrick stayed with Larissa until she left ten minutes later; he was fascinated by the contrast of cool, untouchable blonde and fiery, sensual woman. He returned to the security room, drawn to once again view the footage of Larissa as she flirted with the camera.The paint stained fingers of his right hand clasped the stick of charcoal loosely, as it flew over the page. His eyes never left the screen as he constantly rewound the tape, back to that moment where it captured her while she glanced over her shoulder; her smile….lord that smile, it made his cock twitch and his gut clench every time. He drew her as he imagined her, naked and wild, lost in her own pleasure. Larissa’s thighs were splayed, her back arched and her head was thrown back in release as her fingers worked her own flesh.The fingers of his free hand absently stroked his hardened flesh, and ran along the thick ridge slowly, as his other hand flew across page after page, creating images of a Larissa in varying degrees of abandonment. She inspired him, had his creative juices flowing, not to mention other things, he thought with a dirty smirk. He groaned softly as the image of Larissa licking her lips flickered once more upon the screen , those ‘fuck me’ eyes stared at him from the monitor. Jesus, he wanted those sweet lips wrapped around his cock. Her cool, blue eyes turning molten, as she knelt between his knees, pouty lips wrapped firmly around his rigid length. Just the thought of pulling those blonde tresses free and feeling the silk curls brush his thighs as she loved him with her mouth had his cock throbbing.Patrick’s hand beat furiously, eyes locked to the screen, and with a final groan his head fell back as he came in a blinding rush. His heart thundered, and his cock erupted in thick, white splashes across the monitor, covering Larissa’s face in his release.Patrick laughed at himself; he hadn’t fantasised about a woman like that since he was seventeen. Mrs Morgan, his year twelve maths teacher; the woman had been a goddess. She had lush curves wrapped up in conservative suits, black rimmed glasses and a severe hairstyle. None of it had hidden her beauty; just like Larissa couldn’t hide the seductive creature she was under the cool exterior. Unlike his unrequited crush on Mrs Swift, he was going to have his cool, contained blonde.Hastily tucking his softening cock back into his jeans, Patrick gathered up his sketches and set about planning the seduction of Larissa.***Larissa’s breathing stalled as she entered the hall, she angled her head slightly so that her dark blue eyes peeked up from under thick lashes towards the waiting camera. Her smile was triumphant as the lens followed her progress. Relief fluttered in Larissa’s chest; Patrick was here.Her smile blossomed, and she altered her pace to a seductive prowl. Her hips began a slow, rocking grind over the measured strut of long legs. She revelled in the movement of her breasts; she knew that every sway of her hips sent the soft flesh trembling in the shallow lace cup of her bra. The sensation of cool silk skimming her pale thighs only heightened her awareness of the heat as it poured through her aroused body. It felt strangely natural to be so overtly sexual, to let the passion she’d always kept hidden flow unchecked. Heat pervaded her body, the all seeing eye of the glass lens highlighted her newly found exhibitionistic tendencies. Patrick was watching, and it thrilled her to her very core.There, on the wall! Just as there had been for the previous three weeks, another sketch waited. This drawing like all the others was unmistakably her. The curve of the cheek bone, the high forehead and straight nose, right down to the stubborn tilt of the chin.
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