Tall, Tatted and Tempting by Falkner, Tammy
For my own personal heroes:
My current hero: My husband, Thomas
My first hero: My dad, Glenn Switzer
My heroes in training: JT and Stephen
Dear Readers,
I found myself in a little bit of a quandary as I wrote this book. If you’ve read any of my books before, you know that my writing tends to run toward the hot end of thermometer. I write heat because it’s also what I like to read. However, when I was writing this book, my eighteen-year-old son was intrigued by the premise, and he asked if he could read some pages early on. As I wrote more and more, he asked for more pages, and finally I got to the point where he could no longer feel comfortable reading it. He asked me for a version “just for him.” He’s not a prude by any means, but he was more comfortable with a “sexylite” version of the book. My mother is also someone who skips the sex scenes, and she was intrigued when I told her about this special version.
Since it was already written, I have included both versions in this compilation. The first version is a hot read, not meant for anyone under the age of eighteen and not meant for those who don’t enjoy explicit sex scenes. You can go straight to it using this link:
Sexy version
The second version is my son’s version. By no means is it meant for anyone under the age of eighteen, since it has adult content, adult language, and adult situations. But it’s sexylite. You can go straight to it using this link:
Sexylite version
I hope you like your choice of story and appreciate that the choice of which one to read is yours!
Best regards,
Tammy
Tall, Tatted and Tempting
Tammy Falkner
(Sexy Version)
Logan
I don’t know her name, but she looks familiar to me. She’s a tight package in a short skirt that makes me imagine the curves under her plump little ass. That skirt is made to draw attention, and she has all of mine. I’m so hard I can’t get up from behind the table where I’m drawing a tat for a client on paper. I reach down and adjust my junk, the metallic scrape of the zipper against my dick not nearly enough to calm my raging hard on. I shouldn’t have gone commando today. I hope Paul did some laundry this morning.
Her nipples are hard beneath the ribbed shirt she’s wearing, and she pulls her sleeve back to show me something. But I can’t take my eyes from her tits long enough to look at them. She shoves her wrist toward my face, and I have to jerk my eyes away. Shit. She caught me. I would tell her I’m a guy, I can’t help it. Or at least I would if I could talk.
I see her mouth move out of the corner of my eye. She’s talking to me. Or at least she’s mouthing something at me. No one really talks to me since I can’t hear. I haven’t heard a word since I was thirteen years old. She’s talking again. When I don’t answer, she looks at my oldest brother Paul, who rolls his eyes and smacks the center of his head with his fist.
“Stop looking at her tits, dumbass.” He says the words as he signs them and her face flushes. But there’s a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth at the same time.
I roll my eyes and sign back. Shut up. She’s fucking beautiful.
He translates for her. I would groan aloud, but I don’t. No sound has left my throat since I lost my hearing. Well, I talked for a while after that. But not for long. Not after a boy on the playground said I sounded like a frog. Now I don’t talk at all. It’s better that way. “He says you’re beautiful,” he tells her. “That’s why he was ogling your tits like a 12 year old.”
I flip him off and he laughs, holding out his hands like he’s surrendering to the cops. “What?” he asks, still signing. But she can hear him. “If you’re going to be rude and sign around her, I’m going to tell her what you say.”
Like I have another choice besides signing. You never heard of a secret code between brothers? I sign.
“You start whispering secrets in my ear, dickhead, and I’ll knock your head off your shoulders.”
You can try, asswipe.
He laughs. “He’s talking all romantic to me,” he tells her. “Something about kissing his ass.” She’s grinning now. The smile hits me hard enough I’d be on my knees, if I wasn’t stuck behind that table. She brushes a strand of jet black hair back from her face, tucking it along with a lock of light blue behind her ear.
I watch her open her mouth to start to speak. But she looks over at my brother instead. “He can read lips?” she asks.