A Study in Sin (16 page)

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Authors: August Wainwright

Tags: #Mystery, #A Study in Sin, #Remy Moreau, #A Study in Scarlet, #August Wainwright, #Lisbeth Salander, #murder mystery, #women sleuth, #female sleuth, #Sherlock Holmes

BOOK: A Study in Sin
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Her eyes locked on mine as she reached her hands out and took the weight from me, placing it down on the table. She gently took my arm, kneading at the muscles in my wrist and forearm, before moving up to the area around my elbow.

“What are you doing?” I said.

She didn’t answer, her stare never wavered.

“Remy, what are you –”

“You have a problem. I’m going to fix it,” she said, emotionless, continuing to massage the muscles in my convulsing arm.

Her touch was like a battery on my skin. After a few more seconds, Remy stood and pulled me up to join her. She silently led me to the corner of the room, behind the screens that separated her makeshift bedroom. We stood in front of each other, Remy never taking her hands away from my arm.

“Sit down,” she said.

I turned and looked at the bed, understanding what was happening, but not quite believing it. As I sat, I watched her move barefoot around the bed. It felt hot in the apartment, and I noticed beads of sweat on her skin and I saw the muscles in her thighs fire every time she took a step. My imagination ran wild with the countless number of ways in which I could enjoy those legs. At the moment, though, all I wanted was her touch back on my skin. A vision flashed in my mind of her running her fingers over every inch of my skin, massaging my neck and shoulders, gently pushing at the pain in my arm. I needed that touch.

She quickly slipped out of her shorts and t-shirt, and climbed onto the bed behind me in nothing but a small blue and white striped pair of panties. Her hands went to my sides and lifted my shirt up over my head.

I spun around to face her and lost control, forgetting the weakness in my nerves.

Electricity surged in me as I placed both hands on the inside of her knees and spread her legs. She wore a look on her face of detached concentration. I remember briefly thinking it was odd, but at the time, I didn’t care much. Instead, I focused on the heat of her body, pulling the remaining piece of clothing off her. Remy was left naked in front of me, my hands wrapping under and around her. The feel of her skin on my lips was like a drug; I felt every nerve in my body exploding in anticipation. My hands fell to her thighs, and I slowly and gently let my tongue move over her. When I looked up, I saw Remy’s head tilt back in pleasure. Her fingers reached out and found my shoulders and back, scratching and tearing at the skin there, until she tightened and relaxed in my arms.

I took a moment to regroup, but Remy pulled me up to her and her hands found my belt. She had me naked in no time, tossing my shorts aside. I felt the friction of our skin moving against each other. It didn’t take long before were melting into each other. We pulsed to the sound of Nat King Cole coming from the stereo. Looking down at her naked body beneath me, I fell into a trance.

I was mesmerized by the way she looked at me, by the way she moved, by the feel of her skin and the sound of her moans. I enjoyed the way she drew blood from my back with her nails. Her breathing, her odd knowing looks, her tongue as it moved across her lips, her hips as they rose to meet mine, her unusually gorgeous saucer-wide eyes; I fell further into all that she was, careless of whether it was real or not. I looked down at her and saw nothing but pleasure. I didn’t see a socially awkward perfectionist, or a cold calculating machine of a woman. All I saw was skin and bones and curves and sweat and the absolute embodiment of what I needed at that exact point in time. Every nerve inside of me exploded with the current between us and I was hit with a moment of clarity where I realized what it meant to be present, to be completely in the moment. I moved with her and kissed her lips, and she pushed her tongue into my mouth, and nothing else existed. There were no broken nerves, no twitching arm, no job interviews, no problems, no obstacles, no thought… none of those things existed in the place I was. For a moment, we occupied a place where the two of us were one and we flowed through each other as freely as a breeze through an open window.

Afterwards, we lay there, silent, together on her bed in the corner of our apartment.

“See, your arm is fine,” Remy finally said. “You don’t need a shrink.”

And she was right; there was no twitch, no pain – it felt solid. I chose not to respond, instead thinking of how I was going to break the news to my therapist.

 

Coming Soon

If you enjoyed reading ‘A Study In Sin’, then get ready for what’s coming up next in:

The St. Mary’s Cipher

Coming in June 2013, Volume 2 in the Remy Moreau series

Sign up here to be notified when the book is released and to receive free extras:

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Thank you for reading my work. I’d really appreciate it if you could take a moment to honestly review this book from wherever you purchased your digital copy. Reviews are important and help authors immensely.

 

About the Author

In an attempt to educate, confuse, and piss-off the masses, I've decided to publish my collected and ongoing works.

I write about relationships, money, power, politics, and society - all the things worth reading about. Sometimes that comes out in the form of modern mystery stories, as with this Remy Moreau series; sometimes it's a larger stance on politics, societies, philosophies, and life, like in the upcoming series called The Portrait.

To get access to exclusive content, notification of when my books go on sale, and chances to read new material before it’s released,
sign up for The August Wainwright Street Team Newsletter by clicking here
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For even more content, visit my website:
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Copyright

 

A STUDY IN SIN

A REMY MOREAU NOVEL, VOLUME 1

 

A Rough Seas Book

 

Copyright © 2013 by August Wainwright. All rights reserved.

 

1
st
Edition: May 2013

 

Cover Design by Trevor Houlton

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or use factiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior written consent from the author or publisher.

 

The author would greatly appreciate if you took the time to honestly review this work from wherever you purchased this digital copy.

 

Thank you for supporting the author’s work.  

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