Ex-convict, Adam Butler, is a man hardened by betrayal and
violence. When he lands in Spain, his only intention is to find a paying job so
he can buy his way further west, far away from the memories of his past.
Wealthy and beautiful Evangelina Ortega yearns for the ability to
marry for love even as her father is forcing her to wed a man she's never met.
When she arrives at her betrothed's estate, she meets Adam Butler, a man with
secrets and a checkered past.
Can the Spanish lady and the ex-con find happiness or will their
love be destroyed by her father's determination to regain the family honor?
Note: This book was previously published under the title In the
Hands of a Stranger, but it has been substantially revised.
Adam glanced behind him at the sound of hooves on stone and
watched the elegant carriage roll to a halt in front of the main house. Black,
trimmed with gold, the exterior of the coach gleamed in the rapidly sinking
sun. The doors were covered in intricately gilded patterns of silver and gold,
and pale curtains fluttered in the breeze.
The team that pulled it matched the rig—six midnight black horses
pranced in their harness as the doorman climbed down and set a step by the door
to allow the passengers to disembark. Adam watched as the door opened and a
young man of maybe thirteen hopped out, followed by a young woman a couple of
years older. She was dressed in gray traveling garb, and her long, full skirts
dusted the ground as she walked. Around her head white lace crested and
fluttered with each movement of her head.
Adam felt his breath catch when a dark-haired beauty stepped out
of the carriage. The long, intricate lace veil she wore covered her elaborately
styled hair but did little to hide the ebony strands. Rounded with delicate
cheekbones, and a high upturned nose, her face was flawless, beautiful—unlike
any other woman's he'd ever seen. Her olive complexion was so different from
the aboriginal women his father had employed.
He shivered as her eyes lifted away from her older companion and
met his. With the force of a kangaroo kick, attraction slammed into him. He
inhaled, frozen, unable or unwilling to break eye contact. Her eyes widened a
degree, and he saw her plump lips part in a soundless gasp before she ducked
her head, a wave of pink staining her cheeks.
He glanced away as he walked toward the team. He wasn't the son of
an affluent man here; there was no room for anything between them, not now. As
Adam strode forward to hold the horses, he caught the look of disparagement,
the lack of emotion in the depths of the older gentleman's eyes. Adam stared at
the wealthy, distinguished man for a moment then began to unhitch the wheeler.
"You will do well," the man said, venom lacing his
words, "to keep your distance. A criado has no place near royalty."
The well-dressed gentleman stared down at him, condescension in his eyes.
Adam lifted his head to glare at the self-important man.
"Señor, welcome to Los Santiago Hacienda."
Reading has been such a large part of my life. I cut my literary
teeth on such authors as Louis L'Amour, Nora Roberts and Janet Dailey. For me
it wasn't such a jump from reading the wonderful tales these authors spun to
imagining my own.
Soon I was writing poetry, short stories and by junior high I'd
written my first full length romance novel. Since then I've taken my love of
history and my passion for writing and combined them into what I hope will
continue to prove a successful career.
With six books contracted, four of which are currently available
in print. All are available in electronic format with the last two ebooks due
for a release in May and the other in the summer. I'm currently working on
three projects, an erotic paranormal romance featuring a witch who loves
Christmas, another Ancient Ireland novel, rich in the history of the Irish
Celtic peoples, and plotting out a Cowboy Series tentatively titled "The
Of course I've got a lot more on the go. I'm developing and
growing my editing company with some amazing authors, working on polishing my
concepts and plans for upcoming books within the paranormal genres, and keeping
up on my writing and being a full time mom, working outside of the house…it's
amazing what one can manage in a 16 hour day.
Welcome to my portion of Mid Week Tease! This week I'm going to introduce you to Mistress Guinevere. Her story, Red Stilettos is part of Dark Tales Diaries: Volume One.
For years, Tristan Blackthorn
has toiled to find his lost love. He finally decides to use Blackthorn
Printing, along with his newly created Dark Tales Diaries, as a way to
find her. Will her story be one of the three tales in Volume One?
Mistress Guinevere’s calling
card is her Red Stilettos. She specializes in a particular fetish and
always maintains her control, until a man from her past returns to test her
A recently divorced woman
experiences the effects of empty nest syndrome after her twins head off to
college. With the clock ticking away, she decides it’s far past time to seek
out something that has always eluded her. Will she find what she’s looking for
with The Leather’s Edge?
And a bored computer programmer
learns what it’s like to feel sexual freedom after being bound by a Master in Safe
I’m good at what I do. That’s not
braggadocio. That’s fact. But being the best took 5 years of training as an
understudy with the legendary, Mistress Payn. What I learned from her was more
valuable than my years in academia, obtaining my highbrow Harvard education. And
when I was ready, I emerged from her tutelage, stronger. No longer the
weakling. I’d rid myself of that groveling, pathetic creature who was stepped
on, overlooked, mistreated, and more times than not, dismissed. The woman who writes
to you now would never crawl, wallow, or be any man’s doormat. She’s in
control, with a new found je-ne-sais-quois and savoir-faire that is completely
her own, and I like it that way.
You may wonder just what it is that qualifies
me for your dark tales. And I intend to tell all. You see, I found my niche in
the world of taboo. Fetish. Those darker desires one seeks out in the pursuit
of pleasure. Those things people rarely talk about or wish to admit. You may
call me Mistress Guinevere. I am a dominatrix; however, I wield no whip. I don
no leather. I do not require a paddle, handcuffs, or ropes. Something straightforward
has become my calling card, as well the one and only tool of my trade. Blood-red
stilettos. Too minimal you may say. Nothing horribly intriguing about red
stilettos, right? Wrong. Those stilettos gain me six figures a year in income.
More than I made as a lawyer. And those same stilettos have given me something
priceless. Freedom. Independence. Power.
I work from home, four nights a week with
a select, hand-picked set of eighteen clientele. I engage in no sexual
intercourse with my clients, but that’s not to say there’s no sexual activity
or gratification taking place. They are very well satisfied, so much so, that
my Manhattan penthouse is paid in full by one of my gentleman callers. For his privacy,
and due to his contradictory character, I will call him Mr. Enigma.
Mr. Enigma has a standing appointment
every Tuesday night, promptly at six to wash and fondle my feet. Why promptly?
Because we have come to an understanding. If he is but one second late, he will
not have the pleasure of my company that night. And I assure you, he requires
my company so he is never late.
Mr.… I’ll call him Mr. CatchHim. Why?
Well, he’s very well to do; part of the Fortune Five Hundred, in fact. He’s handsome,
hung like a horse, and women fawn all over him in an attempt to snag themselves
a wealthy husband. He likes to slowly remove a woman’s shoe, suck on her toes,
and see red painted toenails adorned on the perfect feet that stroke his hard
cock. If those women only knew the secret to actually catching Mr. CatchHim,
they might consider his request, but sadly, his desire is something he hasn’t
found any woman willing to do, except me.
It was Mr. CatchHim who purchased my
latest car. A sleek, red Jaguar that even sports a vanity plate with bright red
lettering that simply says, “STILETTOS.”
Mr. BangYourHead comes by anytime he’s in
town, and I always accommodate his usually last minute call, due to the fact he
was very generous in providing me an all-expense paid holiday to Rome this
summer. Mr. BangYourHead is a lead singer for a well-known band, and he, along
with his band, has graced the covers of Rolling Stone more than once.
Mr. BangYourHead has a particular liking
to being walked upon. Literally, walked upon. Of course, I’m more than happy to
provide that precise service. Each well-placed dig of my spiked heel upon his muscular,
bare back brings him to the edge of climax, but he only completes his release
when I give the command.
Mr. Meticulous is my newest client and one
in dire need of my services. He loves to suck the pointed tip of my shoe while
masturbating. He’s a work in progress and ejaculates too quickly. I will be
teaching him the art of control. For his wham bam mentality, he will be
punished. He will clean each and every pair of red stilettos I have until they
sparkle. And when I say each and every pair, I mean each of the one hundred and
ten pair I own.
This is a business, and I treat it as
such. However it is a business of pleasure, and of need. Both psychological and
physical. I never forget while it is a business, it is the business of people.
I’m not dealing in products or goods, churning out trinkets on an assembly
line. I’m providing a service. In a twisted way it’s like being a counselor or therapist,
presenting an outlet to your client.
There is a trust between myself and my
clients, and I provide a safe place for them to explore their innermost
secrets, but I do keep that separation between Mistress/client, outlining clear
and detailed roles in our relationship. If they do not follow the rules, they
will no longer be a client, and if at any time they wish to renegotiate, I
consider their request, but never will the terms of their negotiations go
against my first rule. Never give anyone the upper hand or relinquish my
simply, in order to be the best, I’ve come to understand that each man seeks a
different need to be met, even if he doesn’t know what that need is, so I weed
out the bullshit, hone in on that need, and fulfill it as long as I maintain
the balance of power in my favor.
I must confess. Your sexy periodicals
hooked me. They, being one of my own secret pleasures in which I indulge, are magnificent works of erotic art. When I read you were looking for tales of the forbidden to add to your new Dark Tales line through Blackthorn Printing, I knew I must be included.
Chase, a golden eagle shifter, is destined to be the leader
of his flock, the shifters of the air. But he has a few problems. He’s not
ready for the responsibility, he isn’t sure who he wants as his mate and
there’s the little issue of an unsolved killing to sort out.
Ben is also a golden eagle shifter, Chase’s best friend and
three time lover. He wants to be his best friend’s mate, but can he be honest
about his feelings?
Ariana is a young peregrine falcon shifter who has loved
Chase for years. But why would he want her when he can have anyone he wants?
Three shifters, three separate problems, all fighting to
find out who they are and how they can love each other.
Ben showered and
dressed quickly. What was he going to say?
“You’re going to be
honest, just once, and then forget about it.”
Ben closed up his house
and made his way to Chase’s place. He couldn’t live like this anymore, on
tenterhooks every day, wondering what Chase was thinking, how he was feeling.
Wanting to tell Chase he loved him, but not knowing how.
He had never felt so
impotent in his life. But it was time to end that. He would finally admit all
to Chase and live with the consequences. Today was the last day he was going to
feel like this.
He jogged up the stairs
and knocked on the door. “Hey, Chase, you home?”
His best friend opened
the door, jeans on, but nothing on his gorgeous chest or feet.
“Hey, yeah. Come on
Ben’s cock swelled
within his jeans. His instant attraction to this man frustrated him, and he
burst into Chase’s house.
“How did last night
Chase pushed the door
closed and frowned as he walked forward. “It went really well. What’s up, Ben?”
Ben clenched his fists
tighter then opened them by force. Calm, he needed to stay focused.
“So, Ariana is it for
you? You’ll mate with her?”
He began to pace,
nervous energy working through his system and turning into anger. How could he
have missed his chance to be with Chase?
Chase walked closer
warily, approaching him how one would move towards an injured and angry bird.
Chase had almost reached him now, and his brow knitted together. “Well, we’ve
only had one night together, and she’s still at Uni, but yeah. I think so.”
Pain broke through
Ben’s chest, making it feel like his ribs were being split open.
He stopped and gasped,
putting a hand to his heart.
“Ben, seriously, what’s
Ben growled and began
pacing again. He couldn’t stay still, and if Chase touched him, he would surely
“I don’t know how to
tell you this. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for months, and it looks like
I’ve run out of time.”
into Ben’s mind, and he knew this was it.
Chase’s face was wary,
his tone of voice gentle when he spoke. “What had you been wanting to tell me,
Ben looked at him, his
belly tight with worry. “I need to tell you ... that I...”
Ben stumbled over the
words. How did you tell your male best friend that you were in love with him?
Chase leaned back
against the wall and crossed his arms, that smug grin firmly in place. “If
you’re going to tell me you want Ariana, too, then you’re going to have a fight
on your hands.”
Ben clenched his fists,
anger boiling up inside him. He opened his mouth and screamed at the man he had
loved for a decade.
“I don’t want Ariana! I
fucking want you! Don’t you get it? I don’t want to be your best friend who you
fucked when you were drunk! I want to be your mate, too!”
Chase’s mouth dropped open,
and his eyes widened. Then his eyes turned yellow, and he took a step forward.
His huge hands reached for Ben, cupping his face and drawing it to his mouth.
Ben groaned and grabbed
Chase about the waist, hauling his huge male into his body, absorbing Chase’s
moan and squeezing his arse.
He pulled back and
grabbed Chase’s jean-covered arse. “I want you.”
He stared at the man he
wanted above all else waiting for a sign that Chase felt the same.
“I...” Chase cleared
his throat. “I want you, too,” Chase said, the words gravelly.
Ben dropped to his
knees and unbuttoned Chase’s jeans in a hurry. He had never done this for his
lover, their previous intimacies brief with almost no foreplay. Now, he could
think of no other way to brand Chase as his own. His powerful eagle was close
to the surface.
He opened up Chase’s
jean placket, and his cock sprang out, pointing directly to Ben’s mouth. Thick,
heavy, red, and swollen.
God, it’s beautiful.
He wrapped his hand
around the base and looked up at his man.
“I want to suck you so
He waited, wanting the
confirmation that Chase wanted it, too.
His mate didn’t respond
with words, but slid his fingers into Ben’s short hair and pulled him closer.
That was all the permission he needed.
Ben smiled as he licked
the tip. Yum.
“Chase ... are you
here?” Ariana’s voice shocked them both, and Ben turned his head, ready to jump
But he was already too
late. She wasn’t coming in. She was already here.
Baker is an Aussie girl who just discovered erotic romance ten months ago.
Before that, she would read sexy romance, skipping the plot and looking for the
all the naughty bits. Since then, she has written erotic romance and erotica
novels of varying length and has had fourteen published (so far!). She
absolutely loves reading and writing!
She has two other jobs, including kids and a hubby too – but writing is a
passion that she has to indulge for fear of insanity.
is a passion of hers so even when she writes ménage, there is always an M/M
story. She particularly enjoys writing female dommes, but she loves
experimenting in all genres. Tamsin is learning to write and read more one step
at a time. Soon, she’ll have stories published in every sub-genre of erotic
romance – well that’s her aim anyway!
Today I want to talk about one of
the minor characters in my book Mated Forever.
Norah is the mother of Jorie. She is
a widow, whose husband was an abusive drunk. For Norah, her life with him was
as a consequence of her choices when she was younger. She has had to live with
the choices she made and the life that was thrust upon her. Only now, her daughter
Jorie faces difficult choices of her own that will have consequences. What does
this mother do? Does she advise her to tread along the safe, conservative road
or does she tell her to go for the more riskier route?
I will say nothing more but I'll leave
you with the blurb and a quick taste!
Forever by Michaela Rhua
The full moon is always
a time for danger and mating. This month it brings the scent of Louisa's mate.
Jorie is on the run and in grave danger. Being rescued by Louisa brings safety and
a new temptation. As the girls act on their feelings, and passion overtakes
them, they are unaware of the danger surrounding them both. When Jorie is
kidnapped, it's a race against time. Will Louisa be able to save her mate, or
will the past and all its secrets destroy them before they even have a chance
"I am so sorry to draw you into all this Lou, I …
I didn't mean for it to get this far." Jorie put down the hot mug on the
table next to the sofa.
"It's okay. I asked you to stay, you didn't force
this on me, so chill," Lou said. "Anyway, I'm going to take a
Lou got up from the sofa and disappeared into the
Damn it! Jorie kicked
herself mentally. Why did I not just do
what I wanted to, just touch her. She knew exactly how she felt about Lou.
She wanted her as a lover and mate. Things were so complicated now. Sleeping
with Malachi had been a colossal error. Every time she looked into Lou’s
beautiful brown eyes something melted inside.
The noise of the shower interrupted her thoughts.
Jorie fisted her hands and gritted her teeth. Then, with decisive steps, she
walked through the bedroom to the bathroom. The door was ajar, almost inviting
her in. Once inside, the hot steam fogged her vision. Her eyes adjusted
quickly, and she made out water cascading over golden brown skin. Rivulets
journeyed their way down the perfect body, which was all curves. Jorie wanted
to stroke Lou’s round ass, and kiss it all over. She stretched out her hands.
Her skin tightened, and heat radiated throughout her body. She knew exactly
what was happening. Her wolf begged to be let out to play with her mate.
Breathing deeply, Jorie stepped forward. The steam
cleared at little more and Lou turned around. Jorie stared at Lou's round
breasts topped off with dark chocolate nipples, and licked her lips. Lou
glanced up. Her eyes deepened then a ring of copper formed around her pupils.
Lou continued to soap her body. Jorie watched Lou's hand circle down to her
bare pussy with the sponge. Her own pussy ached with need. Lou dropped the
sponge and leaned her body into the water, washing the suds off her skin. Jorie
wanted to touch her so badly.
Lou turned off the water, and stepped out of the
shower. Jorie took a deep breath, trying to get her wolf under control. She
wanted Lou in human form, to delight in her body. In her wolf form it would be
fucking. Her animal instincts would take over like it had with Malachi. There
had been little tenderness. When he’d realized she was willing, it became all
about taking her quickly. The act had been painful and cold. Where she’d wanted
to take it slow, this would be about making love. She wanted to experience
love, an all-consuming love. Tender and soft, not hard and fast.
"You're so beautiful, Lou. I want you so much. I've
never felt this way before," Jorie whispered.
"I want you, too, Jorie. Only if you’re
sure?" Lou gave her a tentative smile.
"Yes, so sure, like never before," Jorie
Jorie unbuttoned her shirt. Lou came closer still,
helping Jorie to release her arms. Warm hands massaged her breasts. Jorie
untwisted Lou's hair and let those dark curls loose. They were silky smooth,
and Jorie massaged Lou's head then cupped her face.
Their lips met. Heat surged through Jorie, the air hot
and heavy. Lou pushed her toward the bedroom. Jorie delved deeply into Lou's
mouth with her tongue, tasting and licking. Her beast growled with delight.
This was good, this was right.
"You taste so good, Lou," she said.
Lou pushed her onto the bed then stood over her. A
flicker of hesitation registered in her eyes. Jorie undid her jeans, ridding
herself of any clothing to reassure Lou this was what she wanted. Words were
irrelevant. Lou seemed like watching her strip because intensity deepened her
gaze. Once bare, Jorie sat up and held out her hand. Nothing happened. Lou
looked at the offered hand. Afraid Lou would back away, Jorie slowly opened her
legs. She wasn’t fully bare as Lou, but she hoped Lou would understand.
"I can't wait, Jorie, I have to taste you."
Lou licked her lips.
She watched Lou lower her head and inhale the scent of
her arousal. Lou growled then pounced on her.
Michaela Rhua always dreamed of writing but
this never happened until she met the lovely group of ladies known as UCW.
Their passion for writing and encouragement inspired her to see if she could do
it too. Now she loves writing!
She has teenage children and a husband, who
also keep her busy. However, it is whilst travelling into work that she has
time to create her characters and imagine other places in which they exist as
her world skims by the window. Conversations overheard often lead to the birth
of new ideas that she scribbles down in her trusty notebook.
Michaela is a multi-published author with
Breathless Press, Evernight Publishing and a self-published anthology with
authors from The Nuthouse Scribblers.
You wouldn’t believe some of the things I come across while doing research for the stories I’m writing. I stumble across crazy things I’m not looking for. Sometimes they make me chuckle, scratch my head and ponder, and sometimes they make me say, “Hum?”
Welcome! And thanks to author Sandra Bunino for starting and organizing this weekly event. This week I'm going to get naughty with Tied Up In Wonderland. Part of the Naughty Fairy Tale Line from Evernight Publishing.
Be Warned: BDSM, sex toys, public exhibition, anal sex.
Hey, Derik. This is Allison. Sorry to
bother you, but I kind of need your help. I figured you’d be up, and I know its
storming. Anyway, my car won’t start and I’m stuck in the parking lot at SU.
I pressed send. I tapped my fingers on my still wet thighs, and watched the
rain distort the night through the front windshield of my car.
When I heard the ping on my phone, a sense of relief began to ease through me. Derik
Allison. Which SU parking lot are you in?
I quickly typed my reply.
The south lot. The one closer to the
Derik was fast in his next
I’m on my way. Stay inside your car, the storm is a nasty one.
Lock your doors. I’ll be there as fast as I can.
I didn’t wait long. Derik was a man of his
word. He must have broken numerous speed records to get to me. He jumped out of
his Jeep, smartly wearing a black rain slicker, and knocked on my driver’s side
window. I opened the door.
“Thanks for coming,” I said. “My car won’t
“Pop the hood,” he said.
pulled the gear looking thing with the hood icon on it. The hood detached.
Derik went to the front of my car, lifted the hood and messed with something. I
couldn’t really see. I shut my door in an attempt to try and not soak the
inside of my car any further. Derik lowered the hood a bit, twisted his hand,
gesturing to try the ignition. I tried. Nothing happened. Derik let my hood
fall. My car shook from the impact. He jogged back to my side. Opened my door.
“We’re going to have to call a tow,” he
said. “Come on. Get in the Jeep. I’ll take you home.”
“Okay,” I said.
I grabbed my bag, pressed down the lock on
the door, got out, and bounded over to his Jeep. He opened the passenger side
door on his vehicle, and helped me in, closing the door behind me.
Derik sprinted around the back of his Jeep
then jumped in the driver’s side. “Nothing like our spring time storms.” He
smiled at me, removing the hood on his rain slicker. “Did you go to a costume
party?” He asked. Eyeing my slutty outfit, that was more like a slutty bathing
“I got into Wonderland.”
“How did it go?”
“All right. I need more.” I probably
blushed then clarified. “I mean, I need more information.” Derik didn’t need to
know I needed more of Master Hatter’s personal attention.
“So, did you learn anything about Nina
“No, not really. But I do have the
location of the building. I sort of caused a scene on my way out, and they
forgot to blindfold me.”
“Blindfold?” Derik asked, his brows rising
“Yeah. It’s a long story, but I have a
little more to go on now.”
Derik revved his engine. “You better call
for a tow.”
“I didn’t bring any real money with me.
And my credit cards are in my wallet, with my ID back at my apartment.”
Derek chuckled. “I don’t want to know,” he
said. “I’ll call the tow company. I’ve got cash. What mechanic do you use? They
might as well tow it to a shop.”
“I promise I’ll pay you back.”
“I’m not worried about it.”
“I guess I don’t really have a mechanic.
The car isn’t that old. Maybe we should tow it to the dealership shop.”
After making a call to the tow company, we
waited for them to arrive. Derik turned on the heater in his Jeep, and even
pulled out a blanket from the back seat, so I sort of dried off. Actually, he
took care of everything, including paying for the tow.
On the drive to my apartment, Derik talked
about his latest column. I enjoyed listening to him talk when he wasn’t pouring
on the charm. When he pulled up in front of my building, I suggested the
parking garage entrance. He agreed, and turned into the structure. The pouring
He helped me out of his Jeep, walked me
inside my building, and insisted his job wasn’t done until he knew I was safe
and sound inside my apartment. I couldn’t do anything other than invite him in.
“It’s late, but would you like to come in
a few moments? Let the storm settle down some before you go,” I offered.
“Sure,” he said.
Good thing I cleaned my apartment. I’d
hate for Derik to see my inner slob.
“Take a seat,” I said after we entered my
tidy space. “I’ve got to go change out of this wet mess. I’ll be right back.
The remote to the TV is on the coffee table if you want to watch something.”
I was in my bathroom when I heard the TV
come on. I grabbed a towel from the cabinet. Toweled off my hair. Peeled off
all the wet garments, hung them over the shower rod to drip into the tub, and
rubbed my body down with another towel. I scampered into my bedroom, grabbed an
old T-shirt, and some baggy sweat pants and put them on. I swiped my finger
under my eyes to remove my mascara smudges, and headed out into my living room.
Derik was seated on my couch, his
sandy-brown hair dark from being wet and slicked back tight against his head.
He’d pulled it back into a nubby pony tail. He looked different. Perhaps it was
the light, or the night, or both.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” I
glanced up. Tilted his head. Grinned. His blue eyes sparkled. “Sure. What’s on
“Well, bottled water. Orange juice or
“Whoa. Heavy drinker,” he teased. “I’ll
“How about some chocolate chip cooks with
“Hell yes,” he said, his face beaming.
I poured us two large glasses of milk, and
made a tray of cookies. I sat his milk down in front of him, along with the
cookies. He grabbed two, dipped them in his milk, and downed the cookies before
I could take a seat.
“I really do appreciate everything you did
for me tonight, Derik.”
“Any time,” he said, and ate another milk
“I need to go get my wallet. Pay you
back,” I said and started to get up. Derik reached out and stopped me.
“Don’t worry about it. Really.”
“Come on, Derik.”
“Allison,” he said. The stern voice hit
me, and for a moment I was transported back to being bound up with the Hatter.
“I don’t want your money.”
Maybe I was tired or perhaps crazy, but
Derik had a scowl to die for.
“Okay, but at least let me buy you dinner
sometime next week.”
“Sure,” he said, and took a gulp of his
We chatted, watched late night TV, and
worked the tray of cookies over. I giggled.
“You’ve got a cool milk mustache going
on,” I said and wiped my fingers over the top of his lip. He looked at me, and
I swear, if this wasn’t Derik, I’d shiver. The look was pure top of the food
chain predator, masculine, and devastatingly sexy. Then again, maybe I did
Derik leaned in, palmed my cheek, and
gently brushed his lips across mine. For a moment I was stunned, then I was…I
admit it, turned on. He kissed me softly, deeply, then harder. When I gave way
and kissed him back with full on lust, he tugged me up. I straddled him on the
couch, grinding down onto his rock hard erection, kissing like I’d never kissed
before. His hands were in my hair, down my back, squeezing my ass. Sparks flew
between us. Without disconnecting our bodies, Derik laid me down on the couch, and
pressed between my hot, wanting thighs. We were tongues, hands, breathless
pants. Then he stopped. Stared at me. Pulled back. Got up.
“I better go,” he said.
“Yes,” he said. I sat up on the couch,
watched him put on his rain slicker, and turn back toward me. “Lock the door
when I go. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”