Riley Murphy's Blog, page 25
January 13, 2014
Requested Surrender Goodreads Giveaway!!!
Goodreads Book Giveaway
by Riley Murphy
Giveaway ends March 17, 2014.
See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.
Just click to enter for a chance to win.
This is for an autographed “print” copy of Requested Surrender. If you are not on Goodreads please feel free to email me via contacts and I will enter you in a separate drawing I will be doing on March 17th 2014.
Good Luck!
Riley
January 12, 2014
January 11, 2014
January 8, 2014
I know a man packed this one!!!!
How you may ask? Well, let me see… *taps index finger nail against front tooth* I forgot to order Honey a standard Xmas gift. Actually it’s more like a tradition. I have to show you the packaging first and then I’ll explain. Seriously, I was crying laughing when I opened it up. Check this out:
Here’s the box:
Impressive right? Okay here’s inside:
Bubble wrap! Great! My order will be nice and safe with that added precaution! Wait there’s more dang wrapping under them there bubbles:
Hm. My item has it’s own hard and thick envelope of sacredness. Notice the FRAGILE – DO NOT BEND? Wow! You can be sure I was very careful as I pulled this Could-not-cut-open-without-a-sharp-knife envelope out of the huge bubble wrapped box it came in and here it be:
Double Wow. This must contain state secrets, our will or a winning million dollar lottery ticket to be packed so securely. One would think but no…take a gander folks.
Bah!!! You gotta know a guy packed this. I’ve had Waterford crystal arrive at my door with less fanfare. *shakes head* So here’s the scoop. Every year I usually order Honey a calendar for his at home office. It’s no biggie. I pick a theme. Construction Girls or Mechanic Babes or one of my personal favorites Fancy Farm Girls, but you get the gist, right? This year I forgot. Boo-hoo. 
At least that’s what Honey said after he opened all his awesome gifts. Imagine my surprise when he stares over the huge taking-up-all-the-space-in-my-living room TV and says, “You know what I didn’t get? My girls.” Yeah, Honey’s spoiled, I know because I’m the one who spoils him. 
Anyway, long story short, when I remembered a few days ago – I thought to myself, Meh, I’ll just order him one now. It will be a belated Santie gift. So I did and now you can see why I was crying laughing as I unearthed the treasured document from the Amazon vault today. Boy was that thin little calendar of lusciousness protected. Which gave me an idea. Next year during the holidays I’m going to wrap all of the fragile gifts I’m sending to loved ones – in the pages of Honey’s calendar. Maybe then the guys at the pack and ship place will be more careful with them. Ya think?
Riley
January 4, 2014
David and Lacy
***Please note Requested Surrender will be released Feb. 2014. This is the 4th bonus chapter I’ve published on my blog that takes place between the hero and heroine prior to their story officially starting***
If you missed 1-3 please click on the button at the top this page that says “free reads” and start with #1
Their Second Dinner Date
David thanked the waiter who’d delivered their drinks and then zeroed in on Lacy. “Were you a good girl? Did you keep your hands off my pussy?”
Her eyes widened and she gasped as she shot a look around the restaurant, before her glassy-with-embarrassment gaze pinned him. “Have you no shame?”
“No I do not.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” She picked up her martini and cheered him, taking a larger than average sip of it. More in way of a gulp before she blew out a breath as if cooling her tongue. “But let me share this with you. If you want to get into my pants I’d refrain from using the term ‘good girl’. It’s demeaning.”
“But you’re all right with me claiming your pussy? Good to know.”
She plunked her glass down so hard some of the Kettle One sloshed over the rim. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. How was your day today?” He took a slow and measured mouthful of his Southern Comfort while he waited for her answer. Choosing to use her loss for words as an opportunity to study her. After a cursory examination he came to the conclusion that Lacy was a woman who wanted to keep it together. She could probably succeed in that endeavor too, if she had faith in herself. A modicum of faith that she was lacking at the moment.
“Why do you say things like that?”
He put his glass down and stared right at her. “Because I can.”
What little faith she had she was mustering, he could tell, as she set her elbows on the table and leaned forward with eyes devilishly sparkling. “I can say things too, you know.”
“Go ahead.”
“See that box?”
Of course he’d seen it. He was the one who brought it. He inclined his head and was in the middle of taking another mouthful of his drink when she quipped.
“I could have your dick in that box like this.” She shot forward and snapped her fingers under his nose so fast he blinked. “If I wanted to.”
He almost choked and then managed to get the liquor down. Returning his glass to the table he grinned. “You’ve got guts, but even those can’t help you to pull off the impossible. My cock wouldn’t fit in there.”
“Yeah, well neither would your ego.” She waved him off with a snort. “It’s a freaking shoe box, for Pete’s sake, and by my estimate a man’s size eleven, maybe?”
“Twelve.”
“I rest my case.”
“You haven’t even stated it yet. Should we call Justin Timberlake and ask him how he got his dick in a box?”
She eyed him over her glass. “So you saw that SNL skit, did you?”
“Are you going to tell me?”
She shrugged and he held back an exasperated breath. He hated when women didn’t commit and to him that’s just what a shrug suggested.
“I wouldn’t want to spoil the evening. Which, by the way, is happening entirely too soon. I thought we agreed to once a week. This is twice in as many days.”
She took a sip of her drink and made a face that said she was savoring every drop of it. Such a brat. “Don’t try and change the subject, and believe me, if I thought you had an answer for me I’d press you on it. Knowing that you don’t, I’ll let your little fantasy about caging my dick go. As for this dinner date? My schedule is pretty full next week. The only free time I have I’ll be heading out of town to drop someone off somewhere, so I’m using my night for next week tonight.”
“I didn’t agree to that.”
“You didn’t disagree either.”
She fell back against the brocade covered booth rest and speculatively eyed him. “What else didn’t I disagree with?”
“I’d tell you, but I don’t want to spoil the evening.”
“All right.” She reached out and tapped one of the loops of the bright red bow. “Then why don’t you tell me what’s in the box?”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice saying, “I’d rather show you. Come here.” Nodding to the space next to him on his side of the booth, he gave her his best ‘I dared you to’ expression and added, “I think you’ll like it.”
It was as if she didn’t give the decision to scoot out from her side of the table and step to him a second thought. Standing, he moved so she could slip into his side of the booth. When he followed her in and they were both settled, he curled down and whispered in her ear, “I like your dress. What was with all that talk about ‘if I wanted to get into your pants’? You aren’t wearing any. Lucky me.”
She didn’t look up, only kept her eyes glued to the box as she whispered back, “Show me.”
Even though he knew she was referring to the contents of said box he figured he had an opportunity here. Waving the waiter off when the server looked as if he was going to come take their order, he moved closer to her. “Are you sure you want me to do that?”
She nodded and then stiffened when he splayed his hand on her thigh and squeezed. Slowly, so very slowly he slid his hand up until his wrist met her dress hem.
“David?” Her tone was low, but her voice firm. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you how lucky I am that I don’t have to fight to get into your nonexistent pants.”
“We’re in a restaurant.”
He inched his hand up higher. Pulling her leg toward him. “I know.”
“People could be watching.”
He continued to tug so she couldn’t close her legs. “Let them.”
She put both palms on the table and tried to lift herself away from his touch. “The waiter could come back.”
Damn he liked it when she squirmed. Turning, he leaned down and tilted his head while he searched and then found a warm and naked spot of flesh on her neck. A sensitive patch of skin just behind her ear. Softly sucking and nibbling on it until she gave up trying to escape him with a resigned sigh.
“That’s better,” he spoke against her temple. “Let me worry about what’s going on around us while you pay attention to this.”
He shifted his hand in a better position now that she wasn’t resisting him, and went to work. Seven moves and he’d have her melting. Six if she were invested.
Lacy’s palms mashed into the tabletop. She didn’t know how he’d done it. One minute he was sexily squeezing her thigh in promise and the next he had her thong pulled aside and his knuckle crushed against her clit. In and up he pressed and then held. The suspended sensation made her inner muscles clench with restless need as the lower half of her ached for him do more. But then he did just the opposite as he eased off. Only for a moment before he pressed in again. Holding this time for several seconds. Then again for seconds longer until she forgot about what he was doing and paid attention to how she was feeling.
Fuckable. So fuckable that she licked her lips and leaned into him for support. Breathless. Fragile.
“Mm…,” he huskily purred in her ear. “Open. Hot. Wet. I bet you’re tight. Should I slip this into you and check?”
The instant his finger teasingly rimmed her entrance, dipping close, but not close enough, she lost it. Her body shook as her inner muscles folded under the sublime tension, sending a rush of liquid warmth from her core to her center. “David…”
“You’re too impatient, angel. Now I won’t know until next time.”
Her eyes fluttered open and it took her a few seconds to assimilate where she was and what had just happened. When she did she was glad that he’d finished righting her clothes, but not very glad when his words managed to sink in. “You won’t know—?”
He moved so fast she didn’t have time to even flinch. In the span of a heartbeat he had hold of her chin and tilted it until their eyes met. The heat in his gaze electric. “How tight you are.” There was utter stillness for a second or two as the air between them crackled and snapped with energy and then she had to fight to steady her breathing as he whispered, “Fortunately I’m a patient man. Do you want to see what’s inside the box now?”
She didn’t trust herself to speak. Choosing to nod, she sat up straighter. And when she realized how slumped she been in the seat she was surprised she hadn’t slid right under the table when he was playing with her.
With shaky hands she undid the ribbon and braced herself before she lifted up the lid. Just as he’d done with the collar he’d stuffed mounds of tissue paper for her to dig through. But once she parted the stuff to reveal what was inside, she frowned and did a mental head scratch.
“Do you like it?”
“Give me a second.” Plucking the object out, she examined it to make sure it was what she thought it was. Depressingly enough, it was. Oh well. She tossed her hair behind her shoulders and beamed up at him. “You shouldn’t have. Really it’s too much. I’m, well, I’m speechless.”
“No.” His grin was a bright as her smile. “What you are is bratty. Don’t you like my gift?”
She looked down at it with a dubious expression and then looked back up at him. “I don’t know where you come from, but in my neck-of-the-woods women get chocolate and flowers, not an egg timer.”
“Clearly you’ve been deprived.”
She would have said something to that, but the waiter came and took their order. When they were alone again she put the little white dial back in the box and shook her head. “I don’t even like eggs.”
She was just about to ask him to move so she could go on the opposite side of the booth when his warm palm landed on her knee. The strength and weight of it made all her small muscles low and deep seize up with heated anticipation as he said, “Good to know, but you won’t be using the timer for eggs. You’ll keep it in your bedroom and use it when I tell you to.”
Despite how the thought of that had her inwardly shivering and made her want him with a wickedly dark passion she’d never experienced before, she couldn’t let him say a thing like that to her. It was egotistical and all-male. As if she had no choice in the matter. “I may not want to.”
He chuckled then and it wasn’t so much the fact that he did, as it was more the way he did that worried her. As though her pronouncement had been an adorable joke she’d fashioned just to please him. Folding her arms to act as a shelf under her breasts, she stuck her nose in the air, teed her shoulders and sniffed. “You’ll see.”
“Correction.” He turned toward her and gently pulled her arms out their cross. “You’ll see. And don’t look so worried.” He brushed her hair back off one shoulder. “It’s going to fun, remember?”
He was so close to her. So warm and strong and fuckalicious that she couldn’t remember her own name, let alone what they’d been talking about. All she could do is stupidly nod and hope that the action was an appropriate one. But then she figured it was when he curled down and spoke in her ear.
“Very good. And, if you’re patient, next time I’ll be able to slide inside you. I already know how hot and wet you get. Now I want to know how tight you are—here.”
His hand slipped under her dress again, when he possessively stroked the warm and moist part of her beneath her thong. Crazy though it seemed, the only response she could think to make was to turn and rest her forehead against his shoulder. He’d probably read all kinds of things in that move, but she didn’t care.
Not until he said, “That’s my good girl.”
Then she cared, but not for any of the reasons that made sense…
David and Lacy Part 4
***Please note Requested Surrender will be released Feb. 2014. This is the 4th bonus chapter I’ve published on my blog that takes place between the hero and heroine prior to their story officially starting***
If you missed 1-3 please click on the button at the top this page that says “free reads” and start with #1
Their Second Dinner Date
David thanked the waiter who’d delivered their drinks and then zeroed in on Lacy. “Were you a good girl? Did you keep your hands off my pussy?”
Her eyes widened and she gasped as she shot a look around the restaurant, before her glassy-with-embarrassment gaze pinned him. “Have you no shame?”
“No I do not.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” She picked up her martini and cheered him, taking a larger than average sip of it. More in way of a gulp before she blew out a breath as if cooling her tongue. “But let me share this with you. If you want to get into my pants I’d refrain from using the term ‘good girl’. It’s demeaning.”
“But you’re all right with me claiming your pussy? Good to know.”
She plunked her glass down so hard some of the Kettle One sloshed over the rim. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. How was your day today?” He took a slow and measured mouthful of his Southern Comfort while he waited for her answer. Choosing to use her loss for words as an opportunity to study her. After a cursory examination he came to the conclusion that Lacy was a woman who wanted to keep it together. She could probably succeed in that endeavor too, if she had faith in herself. A modicum of faith that she was lacking at the moment.
“Why do you say things like that?”
He put his glass down and stared right at her. “Because I can.”
What little faith she had she was mustering, he could tell, as she set her elbows on the table and leaned forward with eyes devilishly sparkling. “I can say things too, you know.”
“Go ahead.”
“See that box?”
Of course he’d seen it. He was the one who brought it. He inclined his head and was in the middle of taking another mouthful of his drink when she quipped.
“I could have your dick in that box like this.” She shot forward and snapped her fingers under his nose so fast he blinked. “If I wanted to.”
He almost choked and then managed to get the liquor down. Returning his glass to the table he grinned. “You’ve got guts, but even those can’t help you to pull off the impossible. My cock wouldn’t fit in there.”
“Yeah, well neither would your ego.” She waved him off with a snort. “It’s a freaking shoe box, for Pete’s sake, and by my estimate a man’s size eleven, maybe?”
“Twelve.”
“I rest my case.”
“You haven’t even stated it yet. Should we call Justin Timberlake and ask him how he got his dick in a box?”
She eyed him over her glass. “So you saw that SNL skit, did you?”
“Are you going to tell me?”
She shrugged and he held back an exasperated breath. He hated when women didn’t commit and to him that’s just what a shrug suggested.
“I wouldn’t want to spoil the evening. Which, by the way, is happening entirely too soon. I thought we agreed to once a week. This is twice in as many days.”
She took a sip of her drink and made a face that said she was savoring every drop of it. Such a brat. “Don’t try and change the subject, and believe me, if I thought you had an answer for me I’d press you on it. Knowing that you don’t, I’ll let your little fantasy about caging my dick go. As for this dinner date? My schedule is pretty full next week. The only free time I have I’ll be heading out of town to drop someone off somewhere, so I’m using my night for next week tonight.”
“I didn’t agree to that.”
“You didn’t disagree either.”
She fell back against the brocade covered booth rest and speculatively eyed him. “What else didn’t I disagree with?”
“I’d tell you, but I don’t want to spoil the evening.”
“All right.” She reached out and tapped one of the loops of the bright red bow. “Then why don’t you tell me what’s in the box?”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice saying, “I’d rather show you. Come here.” Nodding to the space next to him on his side of the booth, he gave her his best ‘I dared you to’ expression and added, “I think you’ll like it.”
It was as if she didn’t give the decision to scoot out from her side of the table and step to him a second thought. Standing, he moved so she could slip into his side of the booth. When he followed her in and they were both settled, he curled down and whispered in her ear, “I like your dress. What was with all that talk about ‘if I wanted to get into your pants’? You aren’t wearing any. Lucky me.”
She didn’t look up, only kept her eyes glued to the box as she whispered back, “Show me.”
Even though he knew she was referring to the contents of said box he figured he had an opportunity here. Waving the waiter off when the server looked as if he was going to come take their order, he moved closer to her. “Are you sure you want me to do that?”
She nodded and then stiffened when he splayed his hand on her thigh and squeezed. Slowly, so very slowly he slid his hand up until his wrist met her dress hem.
“David?” Her tone was low, but her voice firm. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you how lucky I am that I don’t have to fight to get into your nonexistent pants.”
“We’re in a restaurant.”
He inched his hand up higher. Pulling her leg toward him. “I know.”
“People could be watching.”
He continued to tug so she couldn’t close her legs. “Let them.”
She put both palms on the table and tried to lift herself away from his touch. “The waiter could come back.”
Damn he liked it when she squirmed. Turning, he leaned down and tilted his head while he searched and then found a warm and naked spot of flesh on her neck. A sensitive patch of skin just behind her ear. Softly sucking and nibbling on it until she gave up trying to escape him with a resigned sigh.
“That’s better,” he spoke against her temple. “Let me worry about what’s going on around us while you pay attention to this.”
He shifted his hand in a better position now that she wasn’t resisting him, and went to work. Seven moves and he’d have her melting. Six if she were invested.
Lacy’s palms mashed into the tabletop. She didn’t know how he’d done it. One minute he was sexily squeezing her thigh in promise and the next he had her thong pulled aside and his knuckle crushed against her clit. In and up he pressed and then held. The suspended sensation made her inner muscles clench with restless need as the lower half of her ached for him do more. But then he did just the opposite as he eased off. Only for a moment before he pressed in again. Holding this time for several seconds. Then again for seconds longer until she forgot about what he was doing and paid attention to how she was feeling.
Fuckable. So fuckable that she licked her lips and leaned into him for support. Breathless. Fragile.
“Mm…,” he huskily purred in her ear. “Open. Hot. Wet. I bet you’re tight. Should I slip this into you and check?”
The instant his finger teasingly rimmed her entrance, dipping close, but not close enough, she lost it. Her body shook as her inner muscles folded under the sublime tension, sending a rush of liquid warmth from her core to her center. “David…”
“You’re too impatient, angel. Now I won’t know until next time.”
Her eyes fluttered open and it took her a few seconds to assimilate where she was and what had just happened. When she did she was glad that he’d finished righting her clothes, but not very glad when his words managed to sink in. “You won’t know—?”
He moved so fast she didn’t have time to even flinch. In the span of a heartbeat he had hold of her chin and tilted it until their eyes met. The heat in his gaze electric. “How tight you are.” There was utter stillness for a second or two as the air between them crackled and snapped with energy and then she had to fight to steady her breathing as he whispered, “Fortunately I’m a patient man. Do you want to see what’s inside the box now?”
She didn’t trust herself to speak. Choosing to nod, she sat up straighter. And when she realized how slumped she been in the seat she was surprised she hadn’t slid right under the table when he was playing with her.
With shaky hands she undid the ribbon and braced herself before she lifted up the lid. Just as he’d done with the collar he’d stuffed mounds of tissue paper for her to dig through. But once she parted the stuff to reveal what was inside, she frowned and did a mental head scratch.
“Do you like it?”
“Give me a second.” Plucking the object out, she examined it to make sure it was what she thought it was. Depressingly enough, it was. Oh well. She tossed her hair behind her shoulders and beamed up at him. “You shouldn’t have. Really it’s too much. I’m, well, I’m speechless.”
“No.” His grin was a bright as her smile. “What you are is bratty. Don’t you like my gift?”
She looked down at it with a dubious expression and then looked back up at him. “I don’t know where you come from, but in my neck-of-the-woods women get chocolate and flowers, not an egg timer.”
“Clearly you’ve been deprived.”
She would have said something to that, but the waiter came and took their order. When they were alone again she put the little white dial back in the box and shook her head. “I don’t even like eggs.”
She was just about to ask him to move so she could go on the opposite side of the booth when his warm palm landed on her knee. The strength and weight of it made all her small muscles low and deep seize up with heated anticipation as he said, “Good to know, but you won’t be using the timer for eggs. You’ll keep it in your bedroom and use it when I tell you to.”
Despite how the thought of that had her inwardly shivering and made her want him with a wickedly dark passion she’d never experienced before, she couldn’t let him say a thing like that to her. It was egotistical and all-male. As if she had no choice in the matter. “I may not want to.”
He chuckled then and it wasn’t so much the fact that he did, as it was more the way he did that worried her. As though her pronouncement had been an adorable joke she’d fashioned just to please him. Folding her arms to act as a shelf under her breasts, she stuck her nose in the air, teed her shoulders and sniffed. “You’ll see.”
“Correction.” He turned toward her and gently pulled her arms out their cross. “You’ll see. And don’t look so worried.” He brushed her hair back off one shoulder. “It’s going to fun, remember?”
He was so close to her. So warm and strong and fuckalicious that she couldn’t remember her own name, let alone what they’d been talking about. All she could do is stupidly nod and hope that the action was an appropriate one. But then she figured it was when he curled down and spoke in her ear.
“Very good. And, if you’re patient, next time I’ll be able to slide inside you. I already know how hot and wet you get. Now I want to know how tight you are—here.”
His hand slipped under her dress again, when he possessively stroked the warm and moist part of her beneath her thong. Crazy though it seemed, the only response she could think to make was to turn and rest her forehead against his shoulder. He’d probably read all kinds of things in that move, but she didn’t care.
Not until he said, “That’s my good girl.”
Then she cared, but not for any of the reasons that made sense…
David and Lacy # 4
David and Lacy’s second dinner…
David thanked the waiter who’d delivered their drinks and then zeroed in on Lacy. “We’re you a good girl? Did you keep your hands off my pussy?”
Her eyes widened and she gasped as she shot a look around the restaurant, before her glassy-with-embarrassment gaze pinned him. “Have you no shame?”
“No I do not.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” She picked up her martini and cheered him, taking a larger than average sip of it. More in way of a gulp before she blew out a breath as if cooling her tongue, “But let me share this with you. If you want to get into my pants I’d refrain from using the term ‘good girl’. It’s demeaning.”
“But you’re all right with me claiming your pussy? Good to know.”
She plunked her glass down so hard some of the Kettle One sloshed over the rim. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. How was your day today?” He took a slow and measured mouthful of his Southern Comfort while he waited for her answer. Choosing to use her loss for words as an opportunity to study her. After a cursory examination he came to the conclusion that Lacy was a woman who wanted to keep it together. She could probably succeed in that endeavor too, if she had faith in herself. A modicum of faith that she was lacking at the moment.
“Why do you say things like that?”
He put his glass down and stared right at her. “Because I can.”
What little faith she had she was mustering, he could tell, as she set her elbows on the table and leaned forward with eyes devilishly sparkling. “I can say things too, you know.”
“Go ahead.”
“See that box?”
Of course he’d seen it. He was the one who brought it. He inclined his head and was in the middle of taking another mouthful of his drink when she quipped.
“I could have your dick in that box like this,” she shot forward and snapped her fingers under his nose so fast he blinked, “if I wanted to.”
He almost choked and then managed to get the liquor down. Returning his glass to the table he grinned. “You’ve got guts, but even those can’t help you to pull off the impossible. My cock wouldn’t fit in there.”
“Yeah, well neither would your ego.” She waved him off with a snort. “It’s a freaking shoe box for Pete’s sake, and by my estimate a man’s size eleven, maybe?”
“Twelve.”
“I rest my case.”
“You haven’t even stated it yet. Should we call Justin Timberlake and ask him how he got his dick in a box?”
She eyed him over her glass. “So you saw that SNL skit, did you?”
“Are you going to tell me?”
She shrugged and he held back an exasperated breath. He disliked it when women didn’t commit and to him that’s just what a shrug suggested.He would have said as much but she finally answered him.
“I wouldn’t want to spoil the evening. Which, by the way, is happening entirely too soon. I thought we agreed to once a week. This is twice in as many days.”
She took a sip of her drink and made a face that said she was savoring every drop of it. Such a brat. He couldn’t let her get away with it. “Oh no. Don’t try and change the subject, and believe me, if I thought you had an answer for me I’d press you on it. Knowing that you don’t, I’ll let your little fantasy about caging my dick, go. But as for this dinner date? My schedule is pretty full next week. The only free time I have I’ll be heading out of town to drop someone somewhere, so I’m using my night for next week tonight.”
“I didn’t agree to that.”
“You didn’t disagree either.”
She fell back against the brocade covered booth rest and speculatively eyed him. “What else didn’t I disagree with?”
“I’d tell you, but I don’t want to spoil the evening.”
“All right.” She reached out and tapped one of the loops of the bright red bow. “Then why don’t you tell me what’s in the box?”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice saying, “I’d rather show you. Come here.” Nodding to the space next to him on his side of the booth, he gave her his best ‘I dared you to’ expression and added, “I think you’ll like it.”
It was as if she didn’t give the decision to scoot out from her side of the table and step to him a second thought. Standing, he moved so she could slip into his side of the booth. When he followed her in and they were both settled, he curled down and whispered in her ear, “I like your dress. What was with all that talk about ‘if I wanted to get into your pants’? You aren’t wearing any. Lucky me.”
She wouldn’t look up, only kept her eyes glued to the box as she whispered back, “Show me.”
Even though he knew she was referring to the contents of said box he figured he had an opportunity here. Waving the waiter off when the server looked as if he was going to come take their order, he moved closer to her. “Are you sure you want me to do that?”
She nodded and then stiffened when he splayed his hand on her thigh and squeezed. Slowly, so very slowly he slid his hand up until his wrist met her dress hem.
“David?” Her tone was low, but her voice firm. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you how lucky I am that I don’t have to fight to get into your nonexistent pants.”
“We’re in a restaurant.”
He inched his hand up higher. Pulling her leg toward him. “I know.”
“People could be watching.”
He continued to tug so she couldn’t close her legs. “Let them.”
She put both palms on the table and tried to lift herself away from his touch. “The waiter could come back.”
Damn he liked it when she squirmed. Turning, he leaned down and tilted his head while he searched and then found a warm and naked spot of flesh on her neck. A sensitive patch of skin just behind her ear. Sucking and biting on it until she gave up trying to escape him with a resigned sigh.
“That’s better,” he spoke against her temple. “Let me worry about what’s going on around us while you pay attention to this.”
He shifted his hand in a better position now that she wasn’t resisting him, and went to work. Seven moves and he’d have her melting. Six if she were invested.
Lacy’s palms mashed into the tabletop. She didn’t know how he’d done it. One minute he was sexily squeezing her thigh in promise and the next he had her thong pulled aside and his knuckle crushed against her clit. In and up he pressed and then held. The suspended sensation made her inner muscles clench with restless need as the lower half of her ached for him do more. But then he did just the opposite as he eased off. Only for a moment before he pressed in again. Holding this time for several seconds. Then again for seconds longer until she forgot about what he was doing and paid attention to how she was feeling.
Fuckable. So fuckable that she licked her lips and leaned into him for support. Breathless. Fragile.
“Mm…” he huskily purred in her ear. “Open. Hot. Wet. I bet you’re tight. Should I slip this into you and check?”
The instant his finger teasingly rimmed her entrance, dipping close, but not close enough, she lost it. Her body shook as her inner muscles folded under the sublime tension, sending a rush of liquid warmth from her core to her center. “David…”
“You’re too impatient, angel. Now I won’t know until next time.”
Her eyes fluttered open and it took her a few seconds to assimilate where she was and what had just happened. When she did she was glad that he’d finished righting her clothes, but not very glad when his words managed to sink in. “You won’t know—?”
He moved so fast she didn’t have time to even flinch. In the span of a heartbeat he had hold of her chin and tilted it until their eyes met. The heat in his gaze was electric and sizzled right through her. “How tight you are.” Utter stillness followed those words for a second or two as the air between them crackled and snapped with energy and then she had to fight to steady her breathing when he whispered, “Fortunately I’m a patient man. Do you want to see what’s inside the box now?”
She didn’t trust herself to speak. Choosing to nod while she sat up straighter. And when she realized how slumped she been in the seat she was surprised she hadn’t slid right under the table when he was playing with her.
With shaky hands she undid the ribbon and braced herself before she lifted the lid. Just as he’d done with the collar he’d stuffed mounds of tissue paper for her to dig through. But once she parted the stuff to reveal what was inside, she frowned and did a mental head scratch.
“Do you like it?”
“Give me a second.” Plucking the object out, she examined it to make sure it was what she thought it was. Depressingly enough, it was. Oh well. She tossed her hair behind her shoulders and beamed up at him. “You shouldn’t have. Really it’s too much. I’m, well, I’m speechless.”
“No.” His grin was as bright as her smile. “What you are is bratty. Don’t you like my gift?”
She looked down at it with a dubious expression and then looked back up at him. “I don’t know where you come from, but in my neck-of-the-woods women get chocolate and flowers, not an egg timer.”
“Clearly you’ve been deprived.”
She would have said something to that, but the waiter came and took their order. When they were alone again she put the little white dial back in the box and shook her head. “I don’t even like eggs.”
She was just about to ask him to move so she could go to the opposite side of the booth when his warm palm landed on her knee. The strength and weight of it made all her small muscles – low and deep- seize up with heated anticipation, as he said, “Good to know, but you won’t be using the timer for eggs. You’ll keep it in your bedroom and use it when I tell you to.”
Despite how the thought of that had her inwardly shivering and made her want him with a wickedly dark passion she’d never experienced before, she couldn’t let him say a thing like that to her. It was egotistical and all-male. As if she had no choice in the matter. “I may not want to.”
He chuckled then and it wasn’t so much the fact that he did, as it was more the way he did that worried her. As though her pronouncement had been an adorable joke she’d fashioned just to please him. Folding her arms to act as shelf under her breasts, she stuck her nose in the air, teed her shoulders and sniffed, “You’ll see.”
“Correction.” He turned toward her and gently pulled her arms out their cross. “You’ll see. And don’t look so worried.” He brushed her hair back off one shoulder. “It’s going to be fun, remember?”
He was so close to her. So warm and strong and fuckalicious that she couldn’t remember her own name, let alone what they’d been talking about. All she could do is stupidly nod and hope that the action was an appropriate one. But then she figured it was when he curled down and spoke in her ear.
“Very good. And if you’re patient next time I’ll be able to slide inside you. I already know how hot and wet you get. Now I want to know how tight you are—here.”
His hand slipped under her dress again, only this time he possessively stroked the warm and moist part of her beneath her thong. Crazy though it seemed, the only response she could think to make was to turn and rest her forehead against his shoulder. He’d probably read all kinds of things in that move, but she didn’t care.
Not until he said, “That’s my good girl.”
Then she cared, but not for any of the reasons that made sense…
January 3, 2014
Requested Surrender Book Video
Requested Surrender
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January 2, 2014
Excuse me?
This is all I could say after…well, let me give you the setup first. It’s New Year’s Eve and being that Honey and I had a boat-load of company over December we decided to do a quiet and romantic celebration. Just the two of us. We had a phenomenal dinner, listened to music and talked about our goals for 2014. Nice, right?
So there we were chilling in the living room when I noticed the time. Three minutes to midnight and my first thought is, Holy crap! We’re going to miss the ball dropping!
I push up to a sitting position – yeah, we were snuggling- and tell him we have to go to the family room and turn on the TV. That’s when he opens one eye and says, “Sh…sh. You’re harshing my mellow.”
His what? I was halfway into a stand when I plunked my butt back down on the couch and kind of chuckled. “Excuse me?”
Both his eyes opened. “Haven’t you ever heard that saying before?”
“No.” And the way he said this folks? It was as if this turn-of-phrase was right up there with the “To be or not to be.”
While I’m left mulling that over he pulled me down for a hug and said, “I’m surprised. You being an author and all you wouldn’t know this.”
There I am, frowning as I stare at his neck. Going through all my mental files. Nope. There is no “harshing my mellow” in there. This is when I start to justify why I wouldn’t have heard this phrase before. It’s probably something he’d heard on the discovery channel, or in one of his boring documentaries. Maybe one about hippies in the seventies. Wood Stock. Valley girls? Who the hell knows. All I knew at the moment was that this didn’t sound like anything that I’d ever care to say. “Harshing my mellow?” ridiculous. And come to think of it? For as long as I’ve been with the guy I’ve never heard him utter this “famous” phrase either. Hmmm…
“I give. Where’s it from?”
“From one of the most important minds of the second millennium.”
Again, I’m going through the mental list. I got as far as number five on my list of greats and gave up. There was no way Steven Hawkins or Martin Luther said that. “Are you going to tell me?”
“Pauly Shore.”
“Excuse me?”
“Relax dude, and happy New Year.”
I caught sight of the time. “Aw man! We missed the ball drop, dude.” I threw back at him and then it occurred to me. “You watched Encino Man today, didn’t you?”
“Why be so informal when you can call me His Royal Dudeness?”
I cringe. “And The Big Lebowski?”
“Yeah, I took your suggestion to heart and decided to wean myself off the documentaries.”
Great. Me and my big mouth.
I don’t know what you guys are looking at for 2014, but I know what barrel I’ll be staring down. It’s called the tunnel of hell. Filled with man-loving quotes from woman-hated movies. I’d rather hear about a koala’s sex life than be treated to:
“I’ll be back.”
“I have had it with these motherf*ckin’ snakes on this motherf*ckin’ plane!”
“I ain’t got time to bleed.”
“Losers always whine about their best. Winners go home and F*ck the prom queen.”
“Sometimes you have to say, ‘What the f*ck!’ Make your move!”
“Say hello to my little friend.”
“Yippy-ki-yay mother-f*cka.”
“You can’t handle the truth.”
*Le sigh* My head is spinning with the depressing possibilities.
Happy Freaking New Year to me! Not.
Riley who added another resolution to her list. LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE! Did I show you what I got Honey for Xmas? No?
Yeah, that. I’m so screwed…
December 29, 2013
Houston We Have A Problem And It Involves The Sun!!!!
Sun glasses that is. I leave Honey on his own for an afternoon while I lock myself in my office and write, and what do I come out to? An intervention! Seriously? There I am minding my own business when I walk into our kitchen and I see:
One minute I’m doing the old, do-tat-do-tat-do and the next my head snaps around for a double-take on the lineup. Here’s the conversation:
“What’s this?”
Honey, “An intervention.”
“But those are my sunglasses.”
“I see that. What I’d like to know is how many heads do you have?”
Wow, didn’t realize I’m married to a comedian. “Very funny. Don’t mess with my shades.”
He steps in front of me and crosses his arms over his chest. If you knew the guy like I did that kinda meant this was war. “I think I have to. How many sunglasses does one person need?”
“22.” Yeah, I know, I pulled that out of the old thin air. It’s my specialty. If you say something plausible with enough conviction people usual go, okay. Honey? Not so much because he knows me too well.
“Bullshit.”
See? I told you. “Look,” I walked over to the counter and lovingly pet each pair, “It’s like this. Each of these goes with a different outfit-”
He made a sound like a buzzer going off when a contestant loses. That got my back up.
“I’m not getting rid of one pair.” It’s at this point I spy a pair I don’t recognize in the lineup. Oh, wait, yes I do. They’re his crappy old ones he wears to the beach. He’s had them forever. The guy loves them. Can you hear the gears cranking inside my head? “I tell you what,” I said to him. “I’ll agree to throw away one pair. I promise. The rest I’ll put in a basket in my closest so they aren’t cluttering up,” I look around wondering where the hell he did find all of these, “whatever corner of our home these were taking up space.”
“Good enough.”
I collect all my babies and then snatch up his pair and toss them to him. “You want to do the honors?”
“Sure.”
I was halfway down the hall to my bedroom when I hear him yell, “Son-of-a-bitch!” heheheh. When is going to learn?
Rediscovering all these beauties, though? Heck, it was like Christmas all over again for me. Yay!
Riley
