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Archive for the ‘ShortStory’ Category

New Release: Stark Me by Lily Ryan

Happy New Release To Lily Ryan!

Starkme-black2 paperback

Every good girl needs a bad boy to set her free!

To anyone on the outside, I had a picturesque life, like a scene on the inside of a snow globe.
I didn’t realize how I longed to be set free, until a set of blue eyes looking in, shook things up and shattered the glass around me.

It’s been five long years since I’ve seen Dylan Stark. The man who owns my heart. Five years since we last spoke. Touched. Kissed. Because, Dylan confessed to a murder he didn’t commit.

Everything changed since he’s been gone. There are things I need to explain. Secrets I’ve been keeping.

Now Dylan is back, and he’s dangerous as ever, because he still owns my heart. He shakes up my world and makes me want to confront the truth.

I don’t know if he can forgive me, so I’m not sure if this is our story’s end, or if we are at the start of a new beginning…

Stark Me is a second chance romance between a bad boy gone good, and a good girl gone bad.

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 Excerpt

“What the fuck happened?”

Sirens blare. My head hurts. No, it doesn’t hurt, it feels like it’s bursting at the seams. It’s about to blow into a million tiny pieces any second now.

I blink my eyes a few times to clear my blurred vision. Two sets of worried blue eyes stare back at me.

“Thank the fucking Lord,” Shea Sullivan says, gathering me into his arms. I want to push him away, because this only makes the sharp pain in my head worse, but I can’t.

It’s the other pair of eyes I can’t pull my stare from. The blue eyes with a storm, more savage than the tornado that tore Dorothy from Kansas, brewing in them. The deep blue eyes that narrow on me with anger and suspicion. The blue eyes that I long to see a hint of compassion in, even if it’s only for a moment. The eyes of bad boy Dylan Stark.

“What the fuck happened?” Dylan repeats, anger heavy in his voice.

His words hit me like a slap in the face. I don’t know what he’s talking about. I look around, and that’s when I see it. Blood. All over me. Smeared on my shirt. Covering my hands. A scarlet-streaked knife beside me.

Panic settles into my brain, clawing its way into my soul.

“Jimmy,” I whisper. “Where is Jimmy?”

No answers are given before the police storm the front door, guns drawn, arms extended ready to shoot.

“Hands where I can see them,” a voice booms.

We do as we’re told, and I notice that I’m the only one with blood on me.

My eyes are glued to Dylan, because whatever went down here, it’s going to affect him most of all.

“Where is Jimmy?” I demand.

Dylan doesn’t answer. He just stares at me, jaw clenched, a cold, hard look in his eyes, as he’s read his rights and a pair of handcuffs is slapped tight on his wrists. He’s angry, unresponsive, as they shove him out the door.

“Are you hurt?” An unfamiliar voice directs the question at me.

“Yes.” I touch my chest instinctively, but all seems fine. No cuts. No stab wounds. “No.” I’m confused. I look back down at my hands. If I’m not hurt, where did all this blood come from? “I mean, I don’t really know. My head is a wreck.” A new set of eyes evaluates me with scrutiny.

Shea’s taken outside, but unlike Dylan, he goes of his own free will, without the aide of cuffs or anyone pushing him forward. The officer watching me presses a button on the communication device attached to his shirt collar and speaks. I don’t know what he’s saying; it’s all jumbled, and my mind is on Dylan.

A team of two men come in. A penlight is flashed in my eyes, and sharp pain sears through my head.

“Fuck!” I say, screwing my eyes up tight and holding my head between my hands. “That hurts.”

After a brief examination of my body, one of the men asks if I can walk.

“Sure,” I answer, getting to my feet.

As soon as I’m halfway up, a wave of dizziness and nausea sweeps over me. I extend my hands to break my fall, because I’m going down and the floor is coming at me at warp speed.

The men are talking. I don’t know if it’s to me or to each other. Sound has left me. Sight, too. Darkness creeps in from the corner of my eyes and spreads inward until I can’t see anything but the comfort of nothingness it offers.

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Purchase links- Stark Me will be on sale for 99 cents through the weekend.  

Amazon https://bitly.im/oYMwQ

iTunes https://bitly.im/tZV3I

B&N https://bitly.im/6Qdyj

Kobo https://bitly.im/MtPc9

Where To Stalk Lily Ryan:

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lilyryansreads/

Twitter https://twitter.com/LilyRyanAuthor

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/lilyryanauthor/

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16225133.Lily_Ryan

Rafflecopter Giveaway:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/42ab7c271/

 

Coming Soon: Smuttily Ever After

Title: Smuttily Ever After

Release Date: November 29th

When smut happens, it’s always a happily ever after.

Seven bloggers have come together to create a hot anthology filled with the best variety of sexy stories.

All proceeds go to Paws With A Cause, a charity which trains and provides service dogs to people who can greatly benefit from assistance and companionship.

Cover By: Mila Grayson

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32795327-smuttily-ever-after

Charity: Paws with a Cause – https://www.pawswithacause.org

cover

The Stories:

Calculated

The Messy Mind of Monique Pearson

A successful CEO finds her new PA has more to offer than his typing skills. In the office she’s used to being in control, but he has other plans in mind.

Rolling On A River

The Saucy Owl

One all-girl roller hockey team against the boys, in an all-day tournament of hockey and will power. It gets hotter than a girdle after a game when Frankie sees Taylor Rivers roll on by.

Love and War

Beauté De Livres – Beauty of Books

Having a future was never in our plans. We were at war when we found each other. But when the demons of your past crash into your present, will love be enough?

Falling Into You

Mila Grayson | KU Book Reviews

Think you can only find used furniture on Craigslist? You can also find second chances. Don’t let that chance encounter escape you.

Unexpected

Obsessed with Romance

When a single mother of twins joins her best friends for “a girls night out” she expects some drinks, laughs and dancing. But someone has other plans for her.

Wildest Dreams

Kay Su | BooksandMe

Three isn’t always a crowd. But trying to find two hot, dominating men happy to share the same girl isn’t ever going to be easy. Will dreams become reality? What are the odds?

Love For Us

Books And Boys Book Blog

Finding love on the internet is always a risky business. Full of catfish and unsolicited pics. But what happens when you find a connection faster and stronger than your wifi?

Contributing Blogger Links:

Mila | KU Book Reviews

https://kubookreviews.com

Kay Su | BooksandMe

http://iamkayiee.blogspot.com.au

Beauté De Livres – Beauty of Books

https://beautedelivres.com

The Messy Mind of Monique Pearson

https://mindofmoniquepearson.com

The Saucy Owl – Reviewing the Raunch

http://thesaucyowl.wixsite.com/thesaucyowl

Obsessed with Romance

http://www.obsessedwithromance.com

Books and Boys Book Blog

http://booksnboysbookblog.blogspot.com.au

Going After Your Dreams

Chase Your Dreams!

When I was about 10 I fell in love with reading. I started out like most kids with Judy Blume and Beverly Cleary. Seriously, who didn’t love Ramona Quimby or Superfudge? I was going through these books so fast that I was quickly running out of “appropriate” things to read. By age 12 I was reading Sweet Valley High romances and started writing my own version of those when I couldn’t get my hands on new ones in the series. By 13 I’d discovered my mother’s secret stash of historical romances.
Like many latchkey kids, I was bored and nosy. I found a shelf in my mother’s closet that contained rows and rows of these thick books featuring women in amazing gowns and men with lots of muscles and long gorgeous hair. The titles were even exotic. Savage Thunder, Defy Not The Heart, and The Fires of Winter.  Certainly not the kinds of titles you’d find on a teen romance. I would occasionally flip through them but was daunted by their length. One day I discovered one of the books not only had a character with my name, but it was about a third smaller than all the others. That was enough for me to give it a chance.
I opened the book, right there in the closet, and began reading. 4 hours later when my mother came home I was still sitting in the closet and was almost finished with the book. That was it. I was hooked. The sex didn’t concern me. It wasn’t actually graphic, just passionate. I’d seen much worse on cable TV. My mother wasn’t mad, except for the fact my chores hadn’t gotten done and I was sitting in her closet (which actually confused her more than anything I think).
I started going through my mother’s collection of romances one by one for the next 3 years. What hooked me was the unlikely pairings, the “I’d die for you” devotion, and the fact that no matter what they faced somehow they came together in the end to be together.

Happily Ever After.

Who doesn’t want that?
I’ve heard parents blame a young girl’s unrealistic expectations of love and romance on Disney and their multiple princes who always save the day for their true love. Disney had nothing to do with creating the hopeless romantic in me. It was Penelope Neri, Johanna Lindsay, and Julie Garwood. Even though these stories were set mostly in other countries and all in another time I came to love escaping into the lives of the heroines who tested the boundaries of society, pushed the limits of ladylike behavior, and always found their happy ending in the arms of true love. From Indian maidens to viking princesses to duchesses of grand estates, they all had one thing in common; a happy ending.
Early on I started imagining how I wanted the book to end before I ever got to the ending. Sometimes I was right in line with the author, sometimes their ending was much more intricate than I could have imagined, and sometimes I really believed my ending would have made the book better. I was feeding my imagination and building stories in my head before I was even fully aware of what love and romance were all about.
I didn’t have a traditional English or Grammar teacher. Mrs. Cook was more concerned with teaching mythology, Shakespeare, and all the manias and phobias. I still don’t know how to diagram a sentence and I couldn’t tell you what a split infinitive is, but I can tell you how the Goddess, Athena, was born and draw you a pretty accurate depiction of an Elizabethan theater. The rules for commas are lost to me, just ask my friend the editor, and my ability to stay in the same tense comes and goes.
Then came my Junior year of high school with American Literature followed by a Senior year with World Literature. From Dante’s Inferno to Pride and Prejudice to The Raven to Canterbury Tales. I LOVED IT ALL. In college I read W.E.B. DuBois, Flannery O’Connor, Sylvia Plath, and F. Scott Fitzgerald. This list goes on and on and there were so few that didn’t fascinate me.
I took every writing class I could get into and found that after years of reading my imagination was endless. My technique definitely not comparable to the greats, but I was a bottomless well of ideas. I could pick and emotion and write a story that would make my teacher feel it. I could pick a life and convince the reader I’d lived it.

I’d found my passion.

Many people go through life never finding what it is they are passionate about. I KNEW I wanted to be a writer. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was meant to write. I had no idea what I wanted to write but I knew I had to tell stories.
Like most people life went on and I got busy just making a living and my dream was put on the back burner, ignored, and almost forgotten. I was still reading anytime I could, but I’d stopped writing.

The Book That Changed Everything

In 2011 a phenomenon happened when a previously unpublished writer self-published and self-promoted a trilogy of romances set in a fictional world of billionaires and BDSM. It took off like no other adult book I’ve ever seen. The sex scenes made those historical romances seem innocent. The main character of Christian Grey was suddenly creating a frenzy of women who coined the term “Book Boyfriend.” He was sexy, rich, mysterious, a little dangerous, and would do anything to keep his woman. Without the half naked people on the covers moms everywhere were able to put these books in their purse without fear of being caught with their smutty, romantic reads. Finally giving into the trend I read the trilogy, in less than a week, and then craved more. I quickly found authors with similar works featuring alpha men and luxurious lifestyles where possibilities were endless and creative sexuality was encouraged. All that had been “taboo” was no longer. I fell in love with other authors like Julie Kenner, Maya Banks, and Tara Sue Me.
Now a woman in my late 30s and early 40s my imagination was sparked in new ways and I began to write again. Short stories. Snippets of scenes. Nothing extensive. Thanks to social media I was able to follow and actually interact with authors I was reading. One of the best days of my life was when Julie Kenner sent me a friend request on Facebook then just a few months later another author idol of mine, Lauren Blakely, saw a post I’d written mentioning her and she also sent me a friend request. These are women selling millions of books to millions of fans and I can now interact with them directly. I found indie authors of every sub-genre of romance and through social media interaction started actually building friendships and have extensive conversations with these women. Through these authors I’ve discovered other authors who I not only like as people but love as authors. My book collection, both paperback and e-book, is massive. I’ve become engrossed in the world of romance and writers.

BUT…

The more I read the more I doubt I have any place among these amazing writers. Some offer to read what I’ve written and many encourage me to just write until I get more comfortable with my skill level and improve naturally with time and practice. Fear has a way of making a person immobile. Fear of not being good enough and of being a small fish lost in a giant ocean kept me from even trying. I kept making excuses to keep my dream just that, a dream.
I started this blog to give me an outlet to write whatever I wanted without fear of success or failure. It’s for me. It’s nice that others have read it and enjoyed it when I’ve written, but that wasn’t the point. I would never have guessed that this one thing I did just for me would lead to all the crazy things happening just over the last several months.
First, I received and email from and unknown sender. I actually opened it simply because of the subject. Smut For Charity. Wouldn’t you open it?  It was an offer for previously unpublished bloggers of romance to submit their own short story for publication in an anthology. I read that email probably 10 times and kept finding excuses not to reply. I didn’t have time, I didn’t have the energy, I wasn’t good enough, I didn’t have any fresh ideas, etc, etc. Then my daughter came to visit me. After listening to all the “practical” reasons she was putting aside her dream of art school and seeing her enthusiasm for art dwindling because she believes that her dreams are always going to be out of reach I was heartbroken for her. A parent never wants to see their child settle for less than their greatest potential no matter how impractical or impossible it might seem. But here I was doing the same thing I didn’t want her to do. I had all kinds of excuses for why I couldn’t be the writer I always dreamed of being.
So I answered the email. I kept putting off writing my story because I didn’t think it would come out as well as the ideas that were forming in my head. Finally I made a promise to one of the ladies putting together the anthology of a day I would submit my story by. Someone was counting on me to follow through. I wrote my story in less than two days and sent it in.  There’s things I’d change now if I could since I’ve reread it probably 100 times but it’s my first time and you learn as you go. The people who have read my story have given me a lot of great feedback. So much that I decided that this year I would face another fear and take on the challenge of NaNoWriMo. That’s National Novel Writing Month, which is November, and meeting a goal of 50,000 words written. I’m not at my goal yet, but I’m well on my way. In the meantime the anthology is being put together as I write this and is due to release on November 29th. My story is not only the first one in the book, but also an excerpt from the book I’m writing for NaNoWriMo will be in the back of the book. We have several prominent authors supporting us and promoting the anthology. Even Ms. Julie Kenner has offered to promote the release, among other super supportive author friends I’ve made.
As an unpublished writer I’m learning the cost of things like editors and formatters and cover art. I have an amazing author friend who offered to edit my first work for me when I’m ready, which is a HUGE chunk of the cost, and so many ready to support and share my solo book when it comes out and my short story isn’t even out yet. I’m facing these fears reluctantly but every step of the way I keep reminding myself that I want to show my daughter that if you want it you have to go for it. You can’t give up before you’ve even tried. You can’t make excuses and expect any results. I’ve already invested in cover art for two books and have the support and push from those who won’t let me turn back.

Every day I write a little. Some days I write a lot. What matters is at the end of the day, before you close your eyes, ask yourself this question; what did I do today to get one step closer to making my dreams a reality? It doesn’t matter how small it is, do something, EVERY SINGLE DAY and don’t settle until you’ve exhausted every possibility. You can’t be the best if you don’t try. You can’t grab the trophy if you don’t show up.

Reading romances taught me if you want it bad enough you make it happen. Never give up hope until you find your Happily Ever After.

Monique P.

chances

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New Release: Kill Me by LP Lovell

 

Kill Me
Series: Kiss of Death #1
Author: LP Lovell
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: October 24, 2016
Blurb

Una

To many, I am little more than a myth. The Kiss of Death, a hired killer, revered by the some of the greatest criminal organizations in the world. Trained by the bratva themselves, without conscience, without mercy, the perfect soldier. I’ll kill anyone… for a price. Death doesn’t discriminate, she sells to the highest bidder, but even I have a weakness.

Nero

I want one thing—power. But power is merely a game of strategy. The pieces are on the chess board. Death is my queen, and also my pawn. She’ll paint this city red in exchange for the one thing she wants. Now all I have to do is watch it all play out. She’s nothing more than a weapon, and yet, I find myself wanting to dance with death, to possess her. And I always get what I want.

A game of power. A risk that could cost her everything. An obsession that would see the world burn at their feet. A bloodied king. A broken queen. Kill me or kiss me?

Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
 
Author Bio

Lauren Lovell is an indie author from England. She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologize for afterwards.

Lauren is a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.

LP loves to hear from readers so please get in touch.

Author Links

New Release: Kaden by LP Lovell *writing as Brit Lauren*

RELEASE BLITZ!

KADEN

The Recherché Series #2

Author: LP Lovell w/a Brit Lauren

Contemporary Romance

LIVE NOW!


I’m selling your fantasy. Are you buying? 

My name is Kaden Ryan and I’m a male escort. I never intended to become an escort, but an opportunity fell into my lap and I took it. It was simple: get paid for sex, an orgasm, a night of pleasure. It’s certainly an easy way to work my way through medical school. 

But not everyone’s fantasy is as simple as an orgasm. Some women like the game, and one in particular wants to push me to places I never thought I would go, paid or otherwise. She’s going to be the one to give me a real education.

GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31195927-kaden

PURCHASE LINKS:

US: http://bit.ly/KadenAMZNUS

UK: http://bit.ly/KadenAMZNUK

Free in Kindle Unlimited

ALSO AVAILABLE IN THE RECHERCHE SERIES:

#1 Thor

US: http://bit.ly/ThorAMZNUS

UK: http://bit.ly/ThorAMZNUK

Free in Kindle Unlimited

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Lauren Lovell is an indie author from England. 

She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards.

Lauren is a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy. 

LP loves to hear from readers so please get in touch.

AUTHOR LINKS:

Website:  http://www.lplovell.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/lplovellauthor

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Britlaurenauthor

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7850247.L_P_Lovell

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15523201.Brit_Lauren

Amazon:  http://amzn.to/255v9G9

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/Authorlplovell

Caught Up – A Short Story (adults only please)

Two hours ago I walked into the new bar in town with only thoughts of finding a dark corner to have one drink and quiet my mind. I told my husband I had to work late on paperwork, which wasn’t entirely a lie I just decided to put it off until another day. I needed a moment of “me” time. I’d been overwhelmed lately with stress at work, stress at home and the never-ending stream of bills that seem to find my mail slot. I’d not heard much about the new place so I didn’t think I’d run into anyone I knew and I was right. There wasn’t a single familiar face in the place. After ordering my cosmo I turned to find a table away from the handful of people mingling at that early hour and nearly ran into someone. Not just someone, but a woman with the most intriguing smile. I gave my apologies and quickly slipped away to the corner.
Sitting with my back to the wall I continued to watch her, occasionally meeting her glance and quickly looking away. She seemed to know several of the women there. She came across as confident, yet sweet, greeting each of her friends with a hug and that beautiful smile. Other people came and went but I barely noticed them.
After being caught looking her way more than a few times I made an effort to look down at my drink or at the table but found it difficult to resist looking back up to find her. When I gave in not only did I quickly find her but she was walking towards me. I had a sudden grip of panic without really knowing why. It was just a woman after all. I talked to people all day. I could talk to her. So why did I feel frozen?
Without need for invitation she sat down in the chair opposite me.
“Never been here before have you?”
“No. I just noticed it a few days ago and thought it looked like a good place to have a quiet drink.”
“If I’m bothering you I can go.” That smile spread across her face lighting up even her eyes and I definitely didn’t want her to go, though I wasn’t sure why I wanted her to stay either.
“No. That’s okay. I’m actually grateful for the company. I was feeling a little out of place.”
She leaned in closer to me and I could smell a scent on her that was both masculine and feminine and fuzzied my brain. I wanted to lean closer to breathe it in but didn’t.
“Baby, I’m guessing you are a little out of place,” she said with a wink. Then she leaned back in her seat and took a long swallow of her beer. “Planning to have just the one drink?” she asked looking at my nearly gone cosmo.
“Um, yea. I’m kind of a lightweight and I have to drive home still.”
“In a hurry to get there?” I guess I looked puzzled because she continued after finishing off her beer with another long swallow. “If you’re interested in a quiet place to really unwind I think I know just the place. I’ll drive.” She stood up and held her hand out for me knowing without question that I was going to take it.
What was I doing? I didn’t even know this woman yet I had a feeling she knew me in some way or at least knew what I was looking for tonight.
She took my hand and led me to the door dropping her empty bottle on the bar as we passed by without a word.
She opened the door to her car and I took a seat and buckled up, questioning my own sanity but certain I wanted to see where she was taking me.
In only a few minutes we were pulling in front of a small house and she was leading me out of the car to the front door. Just inside she told me to make myself at home as she took off her jacket and disappeared around the corner. As I was taking off my coat, she came back around with her dress shirt untucked the buttons undone showing a white t-shirt underneath and her sleeves rolled part of the way up her arms. I had apparently slowed down in ridding myself of my coat because I was noticing for the first time the breasts she had hidden under the dress shirt and with a small laugh she helped me the rest of the way out of my coat and laid it across the back of the couch.
I was trying to think of anything to say to take attention away from my reddening face but before I could utter a word she was within inches of my face again. That intoxicating smell of her making me dizzy, or was it the cosmo? Surely one drink wouldn’t have made me feel so unsteady.
Then she was touching me. Her hand was lightly touching mine; her thumb caressed the back of my hand. The back of the other hand gently grazed my cheek as she pushed the hair away from my face and tucked a strand behind my ear. I believe I was holding my breath while she looked at me, knowing yet not believing what was going to happen next. Then her hand was behind my head pulling me to her and her mouth took mine.
Her lips were soft and full and I was lost in the feel of them against mine. Her tongue danced along my lips and tongue like she knew how much I was enjoying the taste of her. She let go of my hand and ran hers up my back pulling me closer to her. Without thinking my hands were traveling up and down her back; feeling the softness of her curves underneath my touch, completely lost in all the sensations I was feeling at once.
She pulled back from the kiss taking a long look into my eyes. She must have found what she wanted to find because the next thing I knew she was kissing me again while walking me down the hallway. I was melted against her so entirely that I had no idea nor care of where we were going. I felt the light brushing of a doorway as we passed through and then as I felt the mattress against the backs of my legs the trembling began. She softly put her hands on either side of my face and pulled back enough to ask in a throaty whisper, “Okay?”
I simply nodded.
She gently guided me to sit on the end of the bed as she knelt in front of me and without ever looking away she removed my shoes. I watched her every move as if I had been put under a spell and couldn’t escape her gaze. I could feel the heaving of my breasts as my heart began to race and my breath quickened. She rose and instructed me to scoot back until my feet were on the bed in front of me. I watched her calmly walk to the side of the bed with the same confidence I had noticed at the bar before. She knew I was captivated and she was soaking it in.
With her eyes on mine she pulled her dress shirt off and gently laid it over the chair beside her. She grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it up over her head and let it join the other shirt. A gasp had escaped my lips before I could catch it and she smiled at my embarrassment. Before I could cover my red face she was on the bed, on her knees straddling my legs and kissing me again. I felt light-headed, dizzy, like I was falling and I reached for her to keep me balanced. When my hand caught the feel of her skin I moaned lightly against her mouth. Never had I been kissed so fully and so gently at the same time and never had I kissed someone so silky to the touch.
She pulled away to raise my sweater up over my head and with one quick finger movement she had my bra undone. When she removed my bra and I felt the air on my breasts I started to panic again and began to voice a protest but before a word could leave my lips her mouth covered my nipple and her teeth grazed the tip just lightly and my breath caught in my throat. All thought of protest was lost.
I watched the poetic way she caressed and teased and held each breast. I felt every movement of her tongue and lips like a direct jolt between my legs. I was sure she knew what wonderful torture she was causing when she looked into my eyes with the most mischievous look and that beautiful smile. Leaving me no time to catch my breath she was kissing me again. Sucking my bottom lip gently and playing with my tongue as she pushed me back against the pillows.
Her hand was working the button and then the zipper of my pants and before I had even noticed she had pulled them off of me and had moved down my body. She ran one single finger up the crotch of my panties and then ran that finger along her lips. Embarrassment was far gone as I watched her suck the taste of me off her finger. She removed my panties and began to kiss the insides of my calves and then my thighs. She left lingering kisses and flicks of her tongue along my bikini line and moved across my pussy just close enough for me to feel her breath on the wetness she had created. She ran her tongue just under my belly button and back down to where I was desperate now to feel her.
Then all at once she sucked my clit into her mouth, rocking it between her tongue and lips. My hips lifted without my permission, wanting more of what I was feeling but feeling as if more would surely break me. As my hips were lifted she pushed through my wetness and I could feel her fingers massaging that secret spot inside me as she continued to seduce my clit into submission. I grasped at the sheets and the headboard and her hair trying to hold on to what was left of my own will but the explosive feeling began to grow and pound through my entire body as I rode her rhythm like a wave until I knew I couldn’t take it even one more moment without shattering into a million tiny pieces. And then it happened; all at once my body convulsed over and over again as the wave crashed against the shore and the most amazing orgasm slammed through me repeatedly until finally I slowly began the decent back to this heavenly place, where my body was drained and satiated and limp.
I felt the heat of her body next to mine as she pulled me into her arms and my head onto her chest and for what seemed like hours she just held me in silence. I didn’t question what had transpired, but instead allowed myself to enjoy the afterglow and fulfillment of the moment. The world outside that room disappeared from existence. My mind at last was quiet.
In a soft voice she said, “I wish you could stay, but I know you can’t.” I looked into her face and she kissed me again but now with the taste of myself on her lips. Surprisingly I was pleased by the idea that she was still able to taste me. I wanted to stay and kiss her more but I knew she was right. My time hidden from the world was coming to an end. As if she read my mind she slipped from the bed and gathered my clothes for me, kissing me again before walking into the bathroom. She brought back a warm wash cloth and gently washed away the visible signs of what had transpired just minutes before from between my legs though nothing could take away the feeling inside my still pulsing pussy. She smiled at the sight of me before tossing the cloth into the hamper and helping me dress.
Every few moments she would kiss me again and show me the smile that was so intoxicating to me. She gathered her shirts and put them on then led me back to the living room where we had begun. She grabbed my hand again like when we first arrived and brushed a kiss across my cheek and lips and just under my ear and down my neck.
“I don’t make a habit of this,” she almost whispered. “I saw you and I just had to know.”
“I know.” I said it because I knew exactly how she felt.
She smiled again and held my hand until we reached her car and got in. She continued to hold it the few minutes it took to get back to the bar where my car was parked. She raised my hand to her lips and kissed each knuckle until she came to my ring finger. She gently put her hand over mine and this time without a smile or even looking at me she faintly said, “He’s lucky to have you. I hope he knows that.”
One last kiss and I swallowed hard not knowing what to say. She found my words for me. “I may not see you again, but if you want to find me I’m half owner of this place.” She said as she nodded towards the bar.
“Okay.” That was all I could manage before I got out of her car and walked the short distance to mine. Once my door was open I heard her back out and drive away. I couldn’t watch her leave.
I sat down, looked at myself in the mirror, wondering how I could look the same and feel so very different. I took a long deep breath and then smiled bigger than I had in as long as I could remember. “Wow,” I said to myself quietly.
I put the car into reverse and started to back out when I hit the brake because I suddenly realized I hadn’t asked her name.
As I eased out and onto the road I laughed out loud, turned the radio up and sang at the top of my lungs all the way home.

 

Monique P.

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