Sommer Marsden's Blog, page 17

As you can see...

I've spent more time giving a few more of my books some love. Hey, whatever gets you through the day, right?

ॐ ❤️

Sommer

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A Many Splintered Thing / Day 37: “That you have possibly the most spectacular ass in history.”

Did you know we are creeping up on 50K? Almost at 100 pages? I did not either. But I do like where we are at the moment...
XOXO
S
~~~~~~

Her body grew heavy from head to toe and then she was lost in those moments—three or four heart beats of time where everything faded away. Then she came back to his lips on her inner thigh. Kissing up, kissing down. Big hands splayed over her belly as if pinning her to the bed.
She tried to sit up and he tsked at her. “No, no, I’m coming to you,” he said and Dahlia dropped back to the bed. She watched him as he unbuckled his belt and got his jeans off. He whipped off his tee and her lust expanded.
His cock was hard against the barrier of cotton until he pulled the boxer briefs off. Then it was just hard and ready and seeing it made her stomach do that swooping falling thing again.
Caleb’s gaze found hers and she said nothing but he heard every word. He followed her line of vision and her focus before climbing on the bed on his knees and moving so he could run his cock along her lips. Dahlia pressed her mouth to him, sought him with her tongue, finally moved her head incrementally and sucked the tip of him into her mouth. When she stilled he slowly and carefully thrust so that he filled her mouth and then her throat.
That brief bird-beating-its-wings instant of panic happened but she breathed through it and shut her eyes. Remembered it was him. Remembered what he represented to her already. Smelled the signature scent of Caleb. It was something like cotton and man and sunshine and honor…
She smiled.
“Why you smiling, Dahlia?” His fingers sifted through her hair and he thrust again, cutting off any words that might try to be born there but only for an instant.
Then he withdrew and she spoke even as she reached out to take him in hand. “Just thinking of the smell of you.”
“Smell of me?” He ran the tip of his cock along her thigh, nudged her so he could run it along the swell of her ass, stroking himself along her and making her smile. It was silly and sexy at the same time.
“Yep.”
“I smell?”
“You do.”
Caleb rolled her to her belly and she wondered how late they were for work. Realized she didn’t care. Not a lick. Not right now.
“Damn.”
“But you smell good,” she murmured.
“Like what?”
“Like you.”
“Now that that’s cleared up,” he said, voice deep, “raise your hips a little.” She obeyed and he pushed a pillow beneath her. Her breasts were smashed flat to the bed and she had a quick shiver of a thrill pass through her as she realized he was going to take her that way. On her belly, ass pushed in the air.
Caleb dropped a kiss on her shoulder and then between her shoulder blades. He stroked her bottom with his big, warm hands and she found herself pushing her hips up even more, ass high, pressing into his hand with eagerness.
He ran the head of his cock down from her lower back, along her ass crack to her back hole. She had a brief rush of expectation when he pressed gently but then he tsked at her again and said “Soon”.
Caleb slid lower and pushed until he was half-way in her. He paused and Dahlia felt her entire body as it seemed to exhale with anticipation. Her clit thumped along with the thunder in her heart. Then he drove into her forcefully, holding her hips in his big hands. She felt tethered to earth but floating free in the wilds of darkest space.
It was the most arresting feeling she could recall.
“Can I just tell you,” he said, voice low, hands gripping tight. “That you have possibly the most spectacular ass in history.”
Another time, another man, she might have laughed at that. But not now. Not him. She sighed and pushed back to show him how badly she wanted him in her. He took the hint and thrust deep to fill her.
He fucked her that way until a tear or two slipped free of her eyes. Then he ran his fingertips along the ladder of her spine and said, “Put your hands up, Dahlia.”
She put her hands up, one on either side of her face as it pressed down into the pillow. She pushed her palms against the resistance of the mattress and kept them that way as if under arrest.
Caleb angled his body and wrapped his hands around her wrists, pinning her there. She was powerless to move, she was helpless to change her position as he continued to drive in and out of her, his cock nudging every tender, swollen place inside her. Her clitoris seemed to hum with energy, begging to be touched but denied the pleasure of contact.
Every thrust stimulated her G-spot from a different angle than she was accustomed to. The pleasure building in her was thick and syrupy. Heavy. It seemed to coax all the energy from her muscles and settle leadenly in her bones.
“Your back’s not too shabby either,” he grunted.
She found herself blushing as he spoke.
“I love a gorgeous back, and you, Dahlia, have an amazing back. A work of art. You only see backs like this one in paintings.” His big body was spread out over hers and he dropped a kiss right between the very tops of her shoulder blades.
She shivered.
Then his mouth settled on her shoulder, his hot breath rushing across her nape as he fucked her. His teeth skated along her skin and then took hold, clamping down on a bit of flesh as if he were marking her.
“Oh—“It flew off her lips before she was aware of it even as a passing thought.
He grunted and drove deeper. His fingers around her wrists grew tighter and she knew he was going to come. She thought she wouldn’t. No way. But she was still boneless from two orgasms and that was just fine by her.
At the last moment he released her right hand and said, “Come with me.” To get her in motion he took her hand and moved it lower along the bed to indicate he wanted her to touch herself. She obeyed, pushing her hand between her body and the pillow, finding the needy knot of her clitoris and rubbing even as she thrust back and up to take him. He still pinned her fairly flat, his left hand covering her left wrist. But she could move and as he pushed his face into her hair and whispered, “What the hell am I going to do with you, woman?” she came.
Caleb thrust once, twice and then a third time before going rigid against her and coming with a long, rough sigh.
They were there, frozen in time for a few beats and then he rolled to his side and pulled her along with him. He brushed her hair back and kissed her. She returned the kiss with a generosity she couldn’t remember giving another lover.
“Now tell me,” he said, smiling. “Before we both go get fired for being six years late for work…why this room? Why not yours or mine? Why this one?”
She’d forgotten in the heat of their coupling and now she grinned. It was a Cheshire cat grin. “Open that nightstand drawer,” Dahlia said.
photo credit: kirikiri via photopin cc

A Many Splintered Thing / Day 36: She made that sound again.

My apologies to Caleb and Dahlia for leaving them in limbo for so long. And you, dear reader, I hope you find today's installment worth the significant wait.
XOXOS~~
“I can deal with that,” she said, hearing the thickness in her own voice. His fingers, big but nimble, plucked at the button of her jeans and pulled down the zipper. A heated lust uncurled in her. Starting in her pelvis and working its way up through her belly and into her sternum. Her breath came short and fast and she thought the moment he touched her that might be it.
She made a noise and his eyes studied her face. Even as he spoke he pushed her waistband down. 
“What was that?”
“Me thinking the moment you touch me I’m probably going to come.” She chewed her lip when he grew still and continued just to watch her face.
He gave her a cocky half smile and his fingers swept softly along the skin that had recently been covered by denim. “That’s okay, Dahlia. If that happens, we’ll just make sure you come again. Like I said, I’m taking my time with you.”
With that, he pushed her jeans down and cool air kissed her hips and her ass. He made quick work of her red panties, pausing only to cock an eyebrow at the color.
“I like red,” she said softly.
“I concur.”
Instead of hauling her close and touching her the way she anticipated, he took a step back and put his hands on his hips. Then his eyes, darker it seemed, possibly from light but she liked to think from lust, studied her again. He ran his gaze over her body making her squirm.
“You’re killing me,” she said, standing there. Her hands hung down to her side and she tried to still the restless urge to cover herself in some way. Or put her hands on her hips. Or flee the room. If it hadn’t been so intoxicating—him watching her that way—she might have done all three.
“Hardly,” he said. Then he went back to watching her.
“I’m naked,” she said, feeling stupid.
“I know. Isn’t it great?”
A burst of laughter erupted from her lungs startling her. “But you’re not.”
“Not yet.”
“I wanted you to know,” she said, breathlessly, wanting to fill in the silence he was supplying. “That I’m on the pill. I’m clean as a whistle. And if you are I was thinking we could…”
His gaze grew sharper and he licked his lips. It was like being watched by a gorgeous predator. The feeling spiraled through her, leaving her a little weak in the knees and light in the head.
“We could?”
“Go without.”
“Without what?” he asked, torturing her. He smiled again and her pussy grew wetter. She hadn’t thought that possible but there it was.
“A condom,” she said again, forcing her voice louder.
He moved toward her then and her heart skipped a beat. It then seemed to struggle desperately to regain its regular rhythm.
He pushed himself close to her, his clothed chest pressed against her bare breasts. He put his hand between her legs and stroked her. She felt her eyes drift shut and her pelvis migrate forward to meet his touch. Caleb slid a finger inside her, gathered her moisture and then pulled his finger free to spread it on her pounding clit.
She made that noise again.
Caleb leaned in and kissed her almost chastely. As if kissing the sound off her lips.
He did it again. And then again. On the third time he began a simple soft rotation over her clitoris. When she sighed mightily, he switched tactics and pushed two thick fingers indie her. Repeatedly, he curled his finger inside her and then she was coming. Her hands flew up to grip his shoulders because her knees dipped as if they might drop her right to the floor.
He kissed her again, but this time more deeply. His tongue worked against hers, his arms looped possessively around her waist.
Possessively…
She found she liked the word. The connotation. The idea.
“I think you’re a bit wobbly, sweetheart. How about we move to the bed.”
She nodded, not trusting her words. He picked her up a few inches off the floor, almost as if carrying a child, and deposited her gently on the bed. Then he pushed her back, grabbed her legs and slid her so her ass was at the edge of the bed and her lower legs dangled over.
When he dropped to his knees and pushed her legs wide she thought she might lose her mind. She watched him as he descended on her, his breath hot across her inner thighs and her nether lips. She gripped fistfuls of the expensive white comforter and tried to keep her body in check. She tried desperately not to rise up to meet his mouth but behave and wait for him to do things in his own time.
“Caleb—“ she said, not knowing what else she intended to say. When she said nothing else he said conversationally, “Dahlia” as if they were greeting each other in passing at the grocery store.
Another wave of crazily joyous laughter escaped her but then he’d pressed his mouth to her pussy and his tongue had found that hard, desperately needy knot of flesh and he was licking.
Dahlia bit her tongue to keep from whimpering and focused on pressing her ass down against the bed. The man wasn’t even nude yet and she was working on her second orgasm. It seemed to rocket toward her like swiftly moving smoke, consuming her logical, rational thoughts and leaving her in a rattled, shaky, pleasured mess.
He sucked softly on her clit, nudged it with his tongue, painted wet and looping swirls across her most sensitive skin.
“Fuck,” she said.
“Soon,” he murmured, his mouths still against her sex. “And sans condom,” he reminded her.
Fresh lust speared her and she gave into her body, grabbed hunks of his hair and thrust her pelvis up, pushing herself unapologetically against his wonderful mouth.
“There’s my girl,” he chuckled and she thought she’d come just from the words he’d chosen.
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes,” he echoed. Then drove those long, thick fingers back inside her. He sucked, licked, swirled…did everything to keep her on edge, until her legs came up seemingly of their own accord and the orgasm sucked her under. As violent and forceful as the ocean before a storm. She sank down in it, floundered in it, embraced it and then let it carry her away.

photo credit: .Kikaytete.QNK via photopin cc

A few more. I told you they were amusing me... :)

The Ever Popular 2 Second Attention Span...

So this morning's bonus was boy child woke and could not move his head from a very stiff neck. So he's in pain and I'm thinking a lot anxious. The fact that he felt he was adding to my burden/stress didn't help. So now he's at the doc with my mom, I'm juggling two phones and trying to stay on top of what the man needs. Om...If you see me posting little poster thingydoos on social media it's because I cannot write. Can't focus. Apologies to my AMST readers. :( So believe it or not formatting--which is normally mind-numbing and awful--becomes soothing and things like making little posters pleases my 2 second attention span. I've also found that Pinterest is the crack of the internet world when you can't think straight and have nothing clever to actually say aloud. It's just scroll-scroll-scroll-pin. *repeat*

A Many Splintered Thing / Day 35: “And you’re just going to stand there?”

I was up earlier than I needed to be today so I had time alone and quiet and this is what I ended up with. Today will be a challenging day for us, so if you could spare a good thought it would be greatly appreciated.

XOXO
Sommer

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Dahlia stepped back and leaned against the counter. She watched Caleb who watched her in return with a great patience. He put his hands in his pockets to show that he was content to wait for her to come to a decision.
Emotions swirled in her chest, the sensation bleeding into her belly. Fear, relief, happiness. The last one scared her more than the first. She thought it was fairly normal to be afraid of something as intense and instantaneous as what she felt for Caleb. But the happiness was foreign to her. At least on a grand scale.
She crossed her arms across her chest to hide her shaking hands. Her head buzzed and she chewed her lower lip, the tiny sparks of pain from her teeth sharpening her focus so she could think.
“See, here’s the part where I have to decide if I believe you or not.”
He inclined his head in a slow nod. “Indeed it is.”
“And you’re fine to just stand there and study me like a lab experiment as I do it?” She crossed her ankles too. Her whole body giving off a back-off vibe. She couldn’t help it. Faced with situations like this left her feeling vulnerable. A sickening reminder of a time in her life when she was powerless. Her body language, she was aware, thanks to every hippy-dippy therapist she’d ever tried on for size, gave off a control vibe.
Another nod. That nod did things to her gut. It whirled with a million imaginary butterflies. “If that’s what you need to do, I’m game.”
“Did you want this egg?” she asked.
“Nope.”
She smiled. She couldn’t help it.
“What do you want?”
It was his turn to smile. The smile was more of a bad boy smirk and she felt the heat in her cheeks reignite.
“What I want is in jeans and purple zebra socks and a black tank top. She has long dark hair and bright blue eyes and she could probably kick my ass if she wanted to.”
It pleased her, what he said, but Dahlia tried so hard not to let him see it. She raised her shoulders in a shrug and said, “Well…as long as you realize it.”
Caleb laughed outright and the sound of his laughter filled her, burst apart in her chest, quickened her heart.
Then he was back to stoic and patient. It was almost maddening.
“You swear nothing happened?”
“I do.”
“I have no hold on you, I kno—“
“Ah, but you do.”
That shut her up. Her heart had gone from quick to pounding. It beat so heavily she felt it in her temples. “I do?”
“You do. Seemingly from the get-go. Which, I’m fairly certain, makes you a witch.”
She let her arms drop. “Damn. You found out my secret.”
“It was bound to happen,” he said. A new light lit his eyes. She recognized that look as his eyes swept over her from head to toe, taking her in. She watched his pulse jump at that sweet spot between neck and shoulder.
“What?” she said, for lack of anything clever to say.
“Nothing. Just waiting.”
“And you’re just going to stand there?”
“Why not?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do,” she said, her eyes straying to the clock.
“What do you want to do?” he picked up his coffee and took a sip.
He must be a hell of a poker player, Dahlia thought.
She straightened up and stretched, reveling in the way his gaze tracked her movements. “I want to be late to work,” she said. “After all, the slave driver I work for said I could.”
She moved as if to go past him but the last moment she snagged his wrist and tugged. “Follow me,” she said.
“Anywhere,” Caleb said.
They both froze for a moment. She looked at him for a beat and realized, as the flock of butterflies moved through her stomach again, that he meant it.
*
She led him past her room and then past his. The very end of the hall had a room with the most windows. The biggest bed. The plushest room. Caleb hadn’t chosen that room when he moved in because it was too much, too big, it didn’t feel like him.
“Why are we here?”
“I’ll explain later,” she murmured, tugging his tee up. She paused, running her fingertips only along the ridges of his abdomen and Caleb felt his muscles and nerve endings jump at her touch. It was like being mildly and pleasantly electrocuted.
“Okay,” he said. He heard the thickness in his voice caused by arousal. His cock pressed insistently against his boxers and jeans.
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. Her mouth was warm and welcoming and he thanked his lucky stars silently that she’d taken him at his word. This trust thing was new but Caleb thought he could get used to it.
He cupped the back of her hair, that heady scent of Dahlia mixed with shampoo and soap hit him and he breathed it in. He pushed his tongue against hers, the kiss growing more demanding as his body insisted he move forward with this. Get her naked, feel her skin, run his mouth over any part of her he could manage. It was a consuming sensation, this want he felt for her. Like nothing he’d ever experienced, like nothing he’d ever imagined.
He grabbed the hem of her tank and yanked it up over her belly and then her breasts. He was well past the point of patience of manners. She willingly raised those long tan arms and let him pull it over her head. Her hair, loose today, flew around her face and he thought again how wild she looked at times. Like some untamed creature made of fire and light.
“Christ,” he said, his voice a growl.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just trying to tame the poetic moron in my head who won’t shut up about how gorgeous you are.” He touched her mouth and she parted her lips to suck the tip of his finger. The heat seemed to radiate up from his finger to his chest.
“I like that poetic moron.”
“You are. Not just gorgeous” he said, working on the front clasp of her bra. She kept her hands down content to let him do it. That made him even harder. “They really haven’t invented the word yet for what you are, Dahlia.”
The bra fell open and he was on her. His lips on her shoulder, sliding lower on her collar bone. He took his time, as best as he could, dragging his lips along her soft skin. When he reached her breast, he bypassed the nipple and used his teeth on the side swell of her breast. Her body grew taut and he heard her suck in a breath. Caleb pulled back to watch the magic happen. Her semi-hard nipple grew tight and pebbled as he watched. He swept his fingers over the very tip and watched her body hum with energy.
“You’re killing me,” she said, her eyes looking more than a little intoxicated.
“Nope. I’m taking my time with you.”

photo credit: lilybartlett via photopin cc

A Many Splintered Thing / Day 34: "Would you like an egg?"

If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter you might have seen my message yesterday that our family is dealing with another blow and that I'll be very hit or miss. That being said, I was sitting here today while he napped an was in the right frame of mind to write. So I'm updating. I will continue to do so whenever possible.

XOXO
Sommer
~~~~~


“Hey, there. Beautiful and made coff—“ Caleb stopped in the doorway.
Dahlia was drinking a coffee but her eyes looked strained, her mouth tight. “Good morning,” she said.
He didn’t need to look at her twice to know she was upset. And to know—almost certainly—that it was with him. Had that weirdness between them been more than he’d felt? Had it been a real rift?
He moved carefully, not wanting to make anything worse. Grabbing a mug from the cabinet he went to the coffee pot and noticed, as he poured, that it was full. And yet she was drinking coffee.
Caleb repressed a sigh. This was laughable, really. He’d never gone for any kind of drama. Even the low level I’m-angry-at-you vibe would be too much and he’d cut a woman loose. With Dahlia he felt the first subtle stirrings of unease in his gut. Which made him even more confused.
“I see coffee all the way to the top of the pot and coffee in your hand.” He turned to her, tried on a smile. Backup plan…joke with her. “Is this a magical coffee pot? Tell me the truth now. Because if it is we could be rich. We’d never have to work for people like Jasmine again if we could figure out how it works.”
“Save it,” she said. She turned her back on him and began to rummage through the cabinet. Caleb watched her, stumped.
“Dahlia? Can you tell me what’s wrong? I know we had a moment last night on our way back from the Rice Barn but I thought it was just one of those weird boy-this-is-progressing-fast freak out moments. Which I’ve heard about but never had, FYI. But you seem really angry at me and I’m at a loss as to why.”
There. That had sounded sane and adult, right? Having never done it before he wasn’t sure. But that had been the intent. He hoped it had worked.
When she turned to him she was smiling. But it wasn’t genuine. It was, in fact, the kind of smile Bob used to call the serial killer smile. The one Belinda would turn on him when he’d royally pissed her off and he feared that if he closed his eyes she’d be sneaking up on him with a kitchen knife. Caleb had heard many tales of the dreaded SKS, but now he was witnessing it in person.
“What?” he said.
“Would you like an egg?”
“What?” He tried very hard not to let his mouth fly open in surprise.
“Would you like an egg?” She enunciated every word.
Since he’d been working like a dog since he was about fifteen, Caleb’s eyes automatically went to the clock. “We don’t have time for an egg,” Dahlia. “We’re pushing late as it is. Which is why I wish you’d talk to m—“
“Don’t worry,” she said, going to the fridge. She pulled out the carton and then began to rummage the kitchen for a bowl, a whisk, butter. “Jasmine said I could be late today what with the shock of finding her here in the guest house in her nightgown with her hair all messed up coming down the hall from your room…”
He felt his stomach fall like he was riding an elevator. “Dahlia—“
“Actually, she just said I could be late due to the shock. Or was it surprise?” She waved a hand and he almost flinched worried that whisk was going to come flying his way. “Either way, I can be late. Now would you like an egg?”
There was a long pregnant pause.
“You fucker,” she added. “Literally.”
*
Dahlia cracked eggs into a bowl and began to beat them. She had to beat something. Caleb came toward her, reached for her.
“Don’t,” she said.
But he ignored her. She knew he would. His hand closed around her wrist and despite her anger a stab of arousal moved through her. Which only made her angrier. She wanted to hit him. And truth be told, if it had been any other man she probably would have. But something about Caleb tamed that aggressively independent nature in her.
It was an unsettling ability he had.
“Listen to me, Dahlia. Nothing happened between me and Jasmine regardless of what she might have implied.”
She snatched her hand away and beat the eggs again. “She was wearing a nightgown. No,” she went on, slamming down the bowl and the whisk. “A negligee if you want to get specific.”
“I know.”
“And her hair was a mess.”
“It was.”
“And she came down the hall from your room.”
“She did.”
She put her hands on her hips. “I’m confused. So…why am I not supposed to be upset?”
“Because nothing happened.”
“Caleb, I’m not an idiot.”
“I agree. But I’m not a liar and I’m telling you nothing happened. I woke up and she was in bed with me.” He caught her hand up again and she let him.
“And that’s your defense?”
“No. It’s not a defense. Let me finish. I woke up and she was in bed with me and I thought she was you. I thought you’d come in to crawl into bed for a bit before work. I was happy…”
He was watching her intently and she felt her cheeks flush. The heat in her skin was embarrassing. Her gut wasn’t reacting negatively to his explanations. She looked him in the eye and he met her gaze directly. His eyes clear and uncluttered by deceit.
“I was happy until I realized it was Jas. And then I put a stop to it. And nothing happened. Which is why she was pissed. Her hair looked like that from me using it as a leash to keep her off me and probably due to the fact that I pushed her out of bed. Onto the floor.”
A small half smile twisted his lips. She was returning the smile before she could stop herself.
“For real?”
“For real,” Caleb said. He caught up her other wrist and stepped closer to her. “You listen to me, Dahlia. I don’t talk about my father…my family. I don’t tell my tale to just anyone. If I told you that, all of it, I trust you. Which means you can trust me.”

photo credit: nickwheeleroz via photopin cc

A Many Splintered Thing / Day 33: She fought him, squirming on top of him, seemingly all muscle and sinew.

Here we go. I think I could go for another cuppa today. That picture looks tempting. Might have to give in to temptation...

XOXO
Sommer

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Caleb stiff armed her. Much harder than he anticipated. He had wild, strange images in his mind of films he’d seen where men wrestled alligators. She fought him, squirming on top of him, seemingly all muscle and sinew.
“Jasmine! Fucking knock it off!” he hissed. He changed tactics by shoving his lower body to the side as he levered her to his left. It disconnected them but provoked a sound from her that reminded Caleb of an angry feline.
“Caleb…” She was breathing hard. “Just let me make it better.”
She wouldn’t stop going for him, randomly striking for various parts of his body. He finally shoved her over the edge of the bed. He’d never hit a woman, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to wear kid gloves with her while she was acting like a lunatic.
“There is nothing to make better,” he said into the semi-light of his room. “There is nothing. Nothing between us anymore. You can fuck whoever you want in the gazebo. I don’t care.”
“But I loved you,” she said. He was glad he couldn’t see her face clearly.
“No you didn’t.”
“And you loved me,” she went on undaunted.
“No I didn’t,” I said.
“And now you hate me,” she said, not listening. She was sniffling. He knew this routine. I didn’t get what I want so now I will grind you into dust beneath my shoe with guilt or whatever emotion you have that is close to guilt.
“No, Jas. I don’t hate you. I am indifferent to you. And that, my dear, is the opposite of love. Now you need to go. You can get up and walk out of here on your own or I can get up, carry you out and dump you on the lawn. Up to you.” He was sitting up now. Running his hands through his hair, wondering how he’d ever gotten tangled up with the likes of her.
She sat there unmoving. He assumed she was staring at him but he couldn’t’ tell. The room was lit now but she was in shadows. A darker spot in the purpling light.
“I can fire you,” she said, some heat in her voice.
“Oh, absolutely. Feel free. I’ll figure it out. I’ll find another job.”
“You’ll turn tail and run back east,” she said with an ugly bark of a laugh. Taunting him.
He pulled on the T-shirt that was crumpled on the floor by his nightstand. “Nope. I’ll find a job somewhere local. I have something around here that…intrigues me. I won’t be leaving. So do you worst, Jas. Long gone are the days where you’ll wield anything over me. If anything, the way I see it, I wield something over you. Does Harrison know about the tall, thin drink of infidelity in the gazebo?”
She stood then, brushing down the nightgown she wore. Her hair was a wild tangle around her face and he thought how she looked like some crazy queen in a fairy tale.
“Are you threatening me, Caleb?”
He laughed. “Nope. Just stating the obvious. Now get.”
He shooed her with his hand and he watched her spine go rigid, her eyes narrow. The sun was truly coming up, chasing away more and more of the darkness that lurked at the corners of the room.
“Did you just dismiss me on my own property?”
“Indeed, I did. Now go. Or I will. Either way, one of us is going, Jas.”
She turned on her heels. That trait, more than any, always made Caleb remember her upbringing. Her money. Her idea that she was entitled to whoever and whatever she wanted in life. He couldn’t help but smile.
She turned the knob, opened the door, and walked out without uttering another word.
It was only then that he exhaled. And he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath.
*
She heard him coming. Dahlia dumped grounds into the filter and then filled the coffee pot with water. She poured it into the reservoir and realized her hands were shaking a bit. It annoyed her. Just a few days before she’d been brewing her coffee cup by cup with a French press, but not now. Now there were two of them and, as much as it surprised her given her loathing of any kind of change, she had immediately switched to the coffee pot which was easier to deal with.
The spot in the hallway that creaked when stepped on sounded. She felt energy coming down the hallway. It was odd how, once you lived along for any amount of time, you could actually feel the energy of another person in your domain.
Standing in the doorway. Dahlia could feel it. Waiting.
She plastered a smile on her face, wanting to make whatever that weirdness yesterday was fade, and turned. “Hey, I don’t know what happened last night but—“
Dahlia froze. Jasmine stood there, hand on hip, leaning against the arch that led from hallway to kitchen. “Good morning, Dahlia,” she said.
Dahlia opened her mouth but quickly closed it again. She took in the tousled hair, the nightgown that was sheer in all the right places, the cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. Her stomach tumbled down, down, down even as her head grew light.
“Jas,” she said, with as much calm as she could muster.
Fuck her. Fuck the rich tart and her greedy ways. She’d explode from her emotions before she’d show even a single crack in her armor. Caleb could fuck her all he wanted. Jasmine could have all the men. Who cared, right? It was a day, really. One night and one day, if you really wanted to get technical. The thing between her and Caleb was nothing. A blip on the radar. A single raindrop in a monsoon.
“Feel free to be late to work,” Jasmine said. “I know it might take you a little bit to recover from seeing me here.”
Jasmine turned quickly and walked away. Before her hands could even stop shaking, Dahlia heard the front door shut. She turned to the cabinet, found the French press and got it down. She began to make her cup of coffee for the morning.
photo credit: - luz - via photopin cc

A Many Splintered Thing / Day 32: “What am I gonna do with you, beautiful?”

 Cracked 40K on this weird weird day. Huzzah. ;)

XOXO
S
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She heard him come in but kept her eyes closed. The TV show had morphed into another episode of the same. Yet another argument between the women. Dahlia thought maybe she’d sit up and say something. Apologize for falling asleep. Say she regretted the weirdness that had somehow grown between them in the car.
But she didn’t. Too chicken. She kept her eyes shut as he locked up the back door. He was talking softly and she knew that he was addressing Alice, his constant shadow.
She remembered something she’d overheard a grandmother telling her granddaughter at an ice cream shop once. “You can tell a good man by animals. If animals are at ease around him, you can feel safe being at ease around him too.”
For some reason—given the very few positive adult role models she’d had in her life—the advice had rung true.
She peeked quickly over the arm of the sofa. She could only make out a sliver of kitchen and she saw him moving around in there. The oven door banged shut and then she saw him pass by the doorway with a big pink oven mitt on. Taking the bread to cool on the opposite counter.
The smell hit her and despite a decent dinner her stomach rumbled. The smell was brown sugar and cinnamon, baked goods and yumminess.
Now’s your chance, dummy. Get up. Go in. Talk to him. Push that weird rift back and move forward. You both got a little case of cold feet. Too much too fast. Nerves. It was bound to happen. But don’t let the odd feelings grow. Don’t feed it…
“Can you believe she did that?” she heard him say. No one answered. Of course not. As much as Alice was willing to listen, she sure couldn’t answer.
“I see by the wagging of your tail that you are as flabbergasted by the set of brass balls on Jasmine as I am,” he went on. Then a cabinet banged. “Your outrage, Al, on my behalf, is humbling. Have a treat. We got them tonight at the store. They are organic and homemade and apparently made by baby cherubs based on the price of them.”
She smiled. But the smile faded. When had he seen Jasmine? How long had she been asleep? And why had he seen her?
Jealousy, sharp and sudden, stabbed her in the ribs. It took her breath away and Dahlia shut her eyes tight as she heard his footsteps come her way. She felt Alice nose her arm and could sense Caleb standing there. Towering over her.
Part of her wanted to reach out, touch his jean clad leg, pull him down, and lure him in. The other part wanted to turn her back to him and feign a deeper sleep. She didn’t know when or why he’d seen Jasmine but it made her feel hollow down to her bones.
“What am I gonna do with you, beautiful?” he said. He’d come closer. His fingers brushed through her bangs and she had to focus—as Zen as she’d ever managed to be—not to visibly react to his touch. She could do nothing about her racing heart or the wetness between her legs or the way her heart seemed to jump in her breast. But she focused all her energy on keeping her eyes closed, her mouth lax, her breathing even.
“You go and fall asleep on me, Dahlia. I’m trying to woo you with zucchini bread and my good looks and you doze off. Crushing to a man’s ego, you know?”
She focused on her breathing.
Why did you see Jasmine, Caleb? Why?
“And now I want to scoop you up and take you to my bed. Pour my heart out. Me and my petty, hurt feelings.”
She almost opened her eyes then. Intrigued by his words. Her gut reaction toward him being one of comfort and solace. Her initial urge was to make him feel better.
“But I think it’s best to leave things as they are. At least for tonight. My brain hurts from some of today’s events.”
There was a sadness in his voice that made her heart lurch sideways. She wanted to reach out and touch him. And just as she decided that was what she would do, he spoke to Alice.
“What do you think, Al? Leave sleeping beauty here or carry her to bed?”
A few beats of silence passed. She heard one of the women on the TV calling another a whore. When she thought she’d explode from playing possum he said, “Yeah. We’ll leave her here. If I pick her up and carry her I might wake her up. And then things will get more confusing. I’m not sure, Al, but I think she’s mad at me. Or something.” He pulled the thick throw up to her shoulders and then the room dimmed when he turned the lamp off. “I was never good at the feelings thing, you know?”
He clicked his tongue and she felt Alice withdraw. His energy receded and she was very aware of his absence. It hurt her heart.
After a moment, his bedroom door closed and she was left there with the stupid show chattering, the smell of baking bread and an ache in her chest as she wondered about him seeing Jas.
What the fuck? Why didn’t you talk to him?
Too late now.
*
She pressed against him. Caleb felt her heat invade him. It would have been overwhelming had it not been so dam nice. She kissed his neck and his pulse slammed from just that tiny, innocent contact. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer.
Her hand slid down his belly, slipped beneath the waistband of his sleep pants. He was already hard, hard enough to steal his breath, but when she touched him, his body jolted as if she were electricity and he’d just been plugged in. Her thumb swept over the tip of his cock.
He cracked his eyes, seeing the periwinkle glow of early morning come through the blinds. She squeezed him and a groan rumbled up from the center of his chest.
Caleb knew he should flip over, sheath himself and drive into her. They were running out of time to be together before the day began for real. But what she was doing felt too damn good and he just wanted to enjoy it for a moment.
Her head was nestled at the crook of his neck and her hair was soft against his skin. She squeezed again, stroked him and then she moved down. Her body, soft and curvy, moving against his as she descended. He caught a whiff of her perfume and shut his eyes all the way again, basking in the scent.
Her lips dragged down his belly, she paused to stick her tongue in his navel. Her small hands held his hipbones and pressed them down. When she tugged his sleep pants and began to draw them down, her mouth moving quickly behind the work her hands managed, he caught a second whiff of her perfume.
Something light and fragrant and flowery…flowers…jasmine?
His eyes shot open and he managed to catch her just as she drew his cock out. She caught her hair, wound it around his hands, tugged to force her head up.
Please be Dahlia, please be Dahlia…
But Dahlia didn’t wear perfume let alone jasmine perfume. And Jasmine, being herself, always wore something jasmine based as her signature scent.
Still, a man could hope. He hoped until the very last second when he looked down into Jasmine’s face and she said to him, “What’s the problem, Caleb? You always loved it when I sucked your cock.”

photo credit: [ piXo ] via photopin cc

Sommer's Summer Book Binge...

Instead of apologizing for not having AMST today I'm here to say a few things. First being, I will do my best from here on out to update it as often as possible.  However, the word best to sum up my life right now is "weird" so I can't promise anything beyond that. The second word I guess would be "sad" tied with "stressful". That means I have been reading...a ton. Like a fiend. It is often my only escape/stress reliever.

Since I have no update  on the novel today I figured I'd post a few of the books I've inhaled in the last few weeks. And a word or two about each.

The man's procedure yesterday to put a stent in to relieve his blockage failed. We will be regrouping and planning come Monday. So...life will continue to be weird, sad, stressful AND hectic. So thanks for bearing with me ;)

XOXO
S
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Top Secret Twenty-One I've been a Stephanie Plum fan from the get-go. I read the first book, One for the Money, in the bathtub while 8 months pregnant. I laughed so hard I triggered a long, scary series of Braxton-Hicks contractions. The man thought I had laughed myself into labor. I'm still a fan and I gleefully gobbled this one up to help give me a laugh or two. It delivered.

 




Bird Box  I kept hearing about this book and hearing about this book. Once I read it, I understood why. A horror novel like nothing you've ever read. The author takes imagination and subtlety to a whole new level.





The House of Small Shadows  I've been waiting to read this one for mooooooonths. So when I finally got my hot little hands on it, I devoured it whole. Given how I have a thing about puppets and dolls and small creatures of the toyland variety in general, I was the best victim...I mean reader for this book. Excellent. But it's Adam Nevill so that's really not a shock, is it?






Galveston  Since I watched True Detective beginning to end three times in a row in a matter of weeks I figured reading a book by the man who wrote it might be a smart thing to do. It delivered and then some. Gritty, rough, quotable and then some, you see the bones of TD in Galveston's prose. Fabulous book that will stay with you days after you've finished it.




December Park  Okay, I picked up Malfi's Cradle Lake a while back and inhaled the book  in two days. Even with my then-insane schedule with work, life, the man and his chemo regime. So, since then I've read The Narrows (amazing) and now December Park. I'd tuck it right there with IT and Summer of Night. A coming of age book that showcases some close knit friends battling something bad. Wonderfully written. Magic on the page.








And sometimes life is so big and so intense that one book is not enough. I am, as we speak, flipping back and forth between Hanging Hill by Mo Hayder (another author I discovered by accident this year and I am so glad I did) and Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened by Allie Brosh. I was/am a huge fan of her blog by the same name and the book is just genius.



If you feel like sharing your reads in the comments, I'd love to hear about them. You never know how you'll find your next fix...I mean read. :)