Soft Marble

Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2018 Megan Slayer

ISBN: 978-1-77339-568-5

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: CA Clauson

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

For everyone who has ever wondered what might happen if statues could come to life.

For JPZ. You’re my rock.

SOFT MARBLE

Celestial Mates, 1

Megan Slayer

Copyright © 2018

Chapter One

Wonder what would happen if this thing came to life? Andrew Green smoothed the cotton cloth over the statue a second time. The marble, a work from ancient Greece, had captured his attention from the moment it had been brought into the restoration studio. He thanked God the rest of the staff had gone home for the night. If the professors saw him touching and fondling the statue, he’d be tossed out of the School of Art.

Andy shifted his hips and adjusted his pants. He’d been working on cleaning the dirt from the statue for the last two days. His cock pressed against his zipper. Just touching the marble made him hard. He groaned.

You’re a handsome man, Andy said. He rubbed the cloth over the statue’s bare ass. Hard. I wonder what you’d sound like. Gruff voice? He wrung out the cloth, then washed the statue’s butt again. I like a man with a gravelly voice. Then again, I like men who pay attention to me. He lightly scrubbed up and down the man’s back. His thoughts got the better of him. Guys didn’t tend to notice Andy. He was the one they saw past. You’re a good friend, he said, but not boyfriend material.

Any other time, he’d have felt stupid for talking to himself. No, he was talking to the statue.

Would I be enough to be boyfriend material for you? He stopped cleaning the statue and rested his hands on his hips. I’d love to be yours. I’d kiss you. Touch you. Learn every inch of you. We’d fuck on every available surface of my apartment, then start all over again. We’d run out of condoms before we ran out of steam. We’d fuck until we collapsed.

Andy tossed the rag into the warm water, then stripped off his gloves. Did the temperature spike? The room was supposed to be zone controlled to keep the heat and humidity level. He scrubbed his hand across his forehead. If he talked to the statue for much longer, he’d be whipping out his junk. Anyone could walk into the restoration room, despite the late hour. Did he care?

A little.

He gazed up at the man who’d factored into his dreams, then shook his head and walked back to his desk. The hours he’d spent cleaning the statue and the fantasies he’d had washed over him. He needed a break. Maybe he’d go to the restroom and rub one off, then finish working for the night. Or he could just head home and masturbate to a dirty movie to get his mind off the hypnotic statue. No, the need to be in the same room with the statue drew him