L. Maretta's Blog, page 7

Writing Challenge Part II: Mark T. Conard Goes Smutty for the First Time

Mark T. Conard is the author of Dark as Night and Killer’s Coda, as well as other published works.  He’s a fantastic writer and a pretty awesome guy.  For someone who usually has gangsters and killers on the brain, he certainly does write sex well.  This is Mark’s first challenge; the scenario supplied by the lovely Miss Oleander Plume.

“Round One in the Utility Closet”

Mark T. Conard

 

            What the hell am I doing here? I thought, staring across the table at the woman with the bad blond dye job and the makeup that looked like it was applied by a special needs child. I’d been set up on a blind date by a colleague, and I’d been foolish enough to say yes. All she wanted to talk about the whole time was kickboxing.

            “It’s the greatest rush,” she said. “Hitting and being hit, tasting the blood.”

            “I’m sure,” I said, gulping the rest of the beer in my mug, and looking around for the waitress.

            “It always really turns my husband on to watch me get hit.”

            I frowned. “Your husband?”

            “Separated,” she said. “Well, soon to be separated. I need him around for the insurance.”

            “Christ, where’s that waitress,” I said, turning in my seat.

            “Excuse me a minute,” said the Kickboxer, getting up from the table. “Ladies room.”

            She walked off, and the waitress appeared, carrying a beer I hadn’t yet ordered. She was cute—really cute, a light-skinned black girl with wavy hair falling to her shoulders, an angular face and large dark eyes. She was in her mid-twenties, ten years or so younger than me, and whenever she smiled, her generous lips parted to show beautiful straight white teeth. She wore a short black skirt, a white shirt plunging at the neckline, and black boots. Her shapely legs were bare. She’d been flirting with me ever since I’d sat down with Million Dollar Baby.

            “Thought you could use another of these,” she said, setting the beer in front of me. “On the house.”

            “You’re a mind reader.”

            “As uncomfortable as you look, it doesn’t take a psychic.”

“God, how do I get out of this?” I said. “I don’t want to be rude or insensitive, but this just isn’t working. Surely she can sense this?”

“You never know, she could be online right now looking for wedding gowns.”

“More likely she’s online looking for boxing gloves and a new cut man.”

She laughed, a gorgeous feminine laugh, and walked off. I felt a tingling sensation, watching her move across the room.

            My date returned to the table. “So you’re coming to my next fight, right?” she said.

            “Yeah, we’ll see.”

            “It wouldn’t bother you to see the woman you love getting beat up in the ring, would it?”

            I let out an audible sigh and slumped back in my chair.

The waitress reappeared. “You left your phone at the bar,” she said to me.

            I reach for my pants pocket. “I don’t think…” but then I caught her eye. She was giving me a look, some kind of look. I’m not sure what kind. The phone was still in my pocket of course, but I’d play along. What the hell.

“Uh, yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said, getting up. “I’ll be right back,” I said to Rocky Marciano.

            I followed the waitress across the dining room. “What now?” I said. “I can’t just run out.”

            “I have a better idea,” she said. “But we have to be quick.”

            We walked past the bar, down a short hallway, and through a swinging door marked ‘Personnel Only’.

            We entered another hallway, and she opened the first door we came to on the right, labeled ‘Utility’. She clicked on the overhead bulb, dimly lighting the place, and we entered.

            I broke into a grin. “What’s going on?”

            She shut the door behind us in the small room, filled with tools, cleaning supplies, mops. She turned to me, grabbed my shirt, pulled me to her, and kissed me hard on the mouth.

            After a second’s hesitation, I kissed her back, our mouths opening, our tongues finding one another. Our bodies fell together, as we ground into one another, and I spun her around and pusher her up against the door.

            She let out an animal moan, and I felt her hand run down the front of my pants and find my cock through the material. It was already swollen, but I grew rock hard with her hand rubbing me. Our movements were eager and hungry, and the naked expression of her desire intensified my own.

            I ran my hands over her breasts, toying with the nipples straining at her blouse, then glided my fingers down her sides and across her hips.

            She dropped to her knees, unzipped me, and pulled out my engorged cock. She ran her tongue along the shaft and over the head, sending a shiver through me, then took me into her mouth. She stroked me with her hand and lips and tongue, and the warm wetness transported me and focused me intensely on my organ at the same time. I closed my eyes and rode the pleasure. I heard my own breath coming short and fast. She drew me along, and I heard the longing in the chirps and sighs she emitted.

            In a moment, I opened my eyes, and lifted her up. I turned her around, and she bent forward, pressing her hands against the door. I hiked up the black skirt. She wore a thong that was soaked through, and her ass jutted back at me in invitation.

            “Give me a little smack,” she said in a strained voice over her shoulder.

            I gave her a quick, open-handed snap on the ass, leaving pink prints of my fingers on her skin. She uttered a cry.

            “Again,” she said through clenched teeth.

            I smacked her harder, and she let out a gasp.

            “Don’t make me wait anymore,” she said.

            I pushed the thong aside and slipped a finger inside her, and she pushed back against my hand and let out a growl. I inserted a second finger, feeling her slippery warmness. I could smell her tangy sex and knew I didn’t want to wait either.

            I positioned my cock over her slit, and I wanted to tease her with it, so I just inserted the head, but that didn’t last long. I knew I couldn’t hold back. I pushed myself in to the hilt, and she cried out and bucked against me. I could feel her clamping around me as she started to come.

            I held onto her hips and stroked her, coming nearly out, and ramming myself in again, as she yelled and yelled. I thrust into her over and over, and I heard myself yelping as I came, shooting my hot jet inside her.

            We stood, locked together for a few moments after we both came, while I moved my cock inside her with unhurried, deliberate motions, communicating something primal to her, and I felt her trembling in my arms.

            I pulled out, and she turned and kissed me.

            “You really work for those tips,” I said, catching my breath.

            She laughed, as she straightened her clothes. “I’m off at eleven.”

            “Round two?”

            She kissed me again. “Round two,” she said.

Hot, right?  I told ya so!

Check out Mark’s published works on Amazon!

 

Writing Challenge Part I: L. Maretta Goes Gangster

A few of my close twitter friends and I decided to take part in a little writing challenge.  Oleander, Cindy and I all write erotica.  Our buddy, Mark, writes thrillers.  We chatted about which one was more difficult and then it was suggested that we all switch and try our hands at writing something outside our area of experience.  Mark would write a few sexy scenes, based on scenarios provided by us ladies, and in return he would provide us with a prompt to test our skills at writing suspense.  The challenge was a fun exercise and the results are entertaining.  I’ll be posting all of our stories here today, starting with mine. 

Without further ado, I give you …

“Brother’s Blood”

Sean’s leg thumped as he sat behind the wheel of the Pontiac Bonneville and waited for Jimmy and his friend, Nick, to exit the house.  He took a deep breath, brought his cupped hands up to his mouth and blew warm air into them.   Fuck, it was cold.

Rubbing his hands together and then absentmindedly touching his chest where the medallion he never took off sat beneath his sweater, he thought about his brother.

Shit, Tommy would be pissed if he knew what Sean was up to that night, but what choice did he have?  Jimmy made it sound so simple.  Just drive the car and the debt he owed him would be cleared.  He even threw in an extra two grand on top of it to sweeten the deal.  No way Sean could have turned that down.

Jimmy also had connections.  The kinds that could help Sean in finding his brother’s killer, something he had been working on since the day Tommy was murdered two years ago.  Sean, being the nobody he was, hadn’t been able to get any information; everyone he knew denied knowing anything about his brother’s death.  But someone out there had to know something and Jimmy was the type of guy who could find these things out.  Getting on his good side was not a bad thing at all.

As the minutes ticked by he grew more and more anxious and he couldn’t shake his brother’s memory from his head.   The one thing Tommy always tried to instill in his younger brother was not to get involved in this criminal garbage.  Even Tommy himself was never into the heavy shit.  He’d pull some minor jobs here and there but nothing, he had said, that wouldn’t be absolved by Father Boyd during Sunday’s confessional.   Sean didn’t know why his brother ended up with a bullet in the back of his head and that ate away at his insides.

“I’m doing this for you, Tommy,” Sean said.  For good measure he pulled at the gold chain around his neck and closed his hand around the medallion.  He followed with a silent prayer and when he opened his eyes he saw Jimmy’s figure hurrying from the house with Nick’s shadow following behind.  Heaving a sigh of relief and before tucking the medallion back under his collar, Sean ran his thumb over the inscription on the back of it.

Blood’s a bar I cannot pass.

Nick’s maniacal laugh startled Sean and he almost spilled his beer.

“Holy shit,” a cackled voice rang out, “there’s almost twice as much here as we thought.”   Dirty calloused hands fisted another wad of cash and began thumbing through twenty and fifty dollar bills.

Sean wasn’t sure why but something about this Nick asshole didn’t sit right with him.  From the moment he and Jimmy picked him up at his apartment he had an off feeling about him.  He was too quiet and too loud at the same time.  He didn’t say much but when he did his voice cut through you.  And the way he looked- the greasy hair, the beady eyes, and the ratty clothes- it just made your skin crawl.  Sean wanted to get his cut and get the hell out of there but Jimmy insisted he stay for one drink.

“Here ya go, man,” Jimmy said in his nasally voice, the result of a deviated septum after one too many blows to the face.  Tossing a roll of twenties in Sean’s lap, he added, “You did good tonight. “

“Thanks,” Sean said, not taking his eyes off of Nick.  “What’s his deal?”

“Who Nick?” Jimmy scoffed.  “Yeah, he’s an odd one, ain’t he?  He’s a good earner but man, is he a twisted fuck.  He said something tonight just before we picked you up.  I can’t remember what it was but shit it was warped.  Hey Nick!  What was that you said earlier?”

“When?” Nick said without looking up from counting.

“Before we left my house.  Something about blood and a bar?”

Sean froze just as he brought his beer up to his lips.  His blood turned cold and a sweat broke out on his brow as Nick lifted his head and grinned.

“Blood’s a bar I cannot pass.”

He said the words so that each one was punctuated and Sean felt every muscle in his body go taut.  He brought the beer down and rested it on the table in front of him.

Jimmy laughed again while Sean could only sit, frozen in his chair.  His vision blurred and Jimmy’s and Nick’s voices echoed in his ears along with his heart.

“Where did you even hear that shit?”

“I read it.  Some asshole I popped two or three years ago had it written on the back of this necklace thing he was wearing.  Stuck with me.”

More laughter.

Without thinking, Sean unfolded his stout frame and walked towards the table where the greasy looking asshole was, now oblivious to anything except the money in front of him again.  Tense, dark eyes swept to the left where Nick’s gun sat, discarded.  Adrenaline running through him, his hand shot out on its own accord and grabbed the pistol.

Nick’s head snapped up when he heard Jimmy yell and he found his own gun pointed in his face.   His hands flew up in surrender and he wondered what the fuck was going on.

“Sean, put the fucking gun down!  Now!” Jimmy screamed, drawing his weapon and aiming it at the kid.

Rodent-like eyes quickly flitted between the two men holding guns and then locked onto Sean’s

 “Hey man,” Nick said using the steadiest voice he could muster.  “What the hell are you doing?”

“That asshole you killed?” Sean said, “That was my brother.”

Sean’s hands were shaking just as badly as his voice and Nick held his breath, waiting for the hairline trigger to go off.  Jimmy shouted again making Sean jump and Nick flinch.

“Fuck,” Nick said.  “Listen to me man, I was talking shit just now, I swear to God!”

He saw Sean’s sweaty face twist, nostrils flaring with each heavy breath he took, and the gun moved an inch closer to his face.

“I swear man, I fucking swear!” Nick said, panic registering on his own face.  “I was lying; I didn’t kill your brother.  I’ve never killed anyone, I fucking swear, man!”

“Then how did you know?” Sean said, the gun jerking with each word he screamed.  “How did you know about the necklace?  The saying?”

“Listen to me.  Some guy I know, he told me about killing your brother and what the necklace said.  I swear, I didn’t do it.  Fuck, I knew my fucking mouth was gonna get me in trouble one of these days.  Listen to me, man, please, I swear I didn’t kill your brother!”

He noticed the stocky build in front of him waver just a fraction.

“I swear to God,” Nick continued with a cracked sob.  “I didn’t kill your brother but I know who did.  You kill me now, you’ll never know who really did it.”

Sean tried to control his ragged breaths as confusion dipped and whirled in his head.

“Sean,” Jimmy said from his left.  “Put the gun down, huh?  Let Nick tell you the truth.”

Sean was distracted for only a second but that was all Nick needed to move.  He leapt from his chair and grabbed the gun, twisting to the left to pry it free and then jerked his elbow back to connect with Sean’s face.

Sean hit the floor, blood pouring from his nose.  Nick just stared down at him for a moment and then he brought his right foot back and connected it with his ribs.

Sean’s hands went from his face to his stomach and he curled in on himself as Nick’s boot assaulted him again.  He turned his head up and pleaded through watery eyes.

“I’m sorry, man, I thought you killed my brother,” he said.

Nick cocked his head to the side and aimed his gun.

“I did.”

So what do you think?  Should I try to write a thriller the next time around or should I stick to the romance?

Lunch Date

I originally wrote this as a guest post for my friend Mary Palmerin’s blog.  Thought I’d share with you.  Hope you enjoy.

xoxo

My fingers tap frantically on the keyboard as I rush to respond to the last of the emails that have been littering my inbox since yesterday.  My eyes flit to the corner of my computer screen once again to check the time.  Eleven fifty-seven.  My heart starts to drum just a little bit faster, knowing that in just minutes I will be on my way to see him.

Him.  

Just the thought has my lips parting slightly to accommodate my suddenly heavy breathing.  My eyes close briefly as I flush in remembrance of his touch, his kiss, the lingering way his breath caressed my skin the last time we were together.  While it was only yesterday, my body craves him like it has been ages.  

A voice from outside my office shakes me from my reverie and I finish my email, hit the send button, and rise from my desk.  It is twelve o’clock on the dot now, and my black patent leather stilettos hurry me towards the bank of elevators that will bring me three floors up to my lunch date.  While waiting for the lift, I check myself in the reflection of the closed doors in front of me.  I smile as I see the obvious effects of even just thinking about my lover.  My brown eyes are bright and excited, my lips plump, and my skin is glowing with anticipation.  On the ride up to his floor I try but fail to hide the wide smile on my face.  An older gentleman sharing the elevator with me smirks curiously.

Impatient legs carry me down the marbled hall towards his office.  The loud clicking of my heels sounds hurried and I force myself to slow my steps so as not to appear flushed when I get there.  His door is open.  I pause to take a deep breath before crossing the threshold.  

My lover sits at his mahogany desk, looking at his computer screen while talking quietly into his cell phone.  He doesn’t notice me right away and I take the opportunity to simply admire him.  His dark hair is neatly brushed from his forehead that is creased in concentration.  His fingers come up to rest at his lips as he contemplates something and I find myself mimicking him, touching my lips that ache to touch his.  

It isn’t until I close his door and click the lock in place that his hazel eyes meet mine and crinkle as his lips turn up in a sexy grin.  Still on his phone, he stands and moves towards me, his eyes locked onto mine, pressing our bodies flush until my back is against his closed door.  One of his strong hands touches my hip; he gives it a little squeeze and then moves down and around to cup my bottom.  I inhale with a hiss when his soft lips greet the skin just under my jaw.

With a few more words he ends his call, slips his phone into his back pocket and then those hands that I love so much are cupping my face, his lips finally touching mine.

I feel myself melt into him as his tongue massages my own, slow open-mouthed kisses, warm and wet.  I rub his chest through his shirt, the way I know he loves, and I am rewarded with a soft groan into my mouth.

“Hey baby,” he says quietly with a smile when our lips pull apart and he wraps his muscular arms around me in a tight embrace.  My cheek rests on his shoulder; I place a small kiss on his neck, and sigh.  There is no other place that I feel more content.

I feel his hands snake down to my ass then to the hem of my skirt where his fingers graze the backs of my thighs.  My skin tingles as they climb higher and finger the lace trim of my underwear, now damp with arousal.

My lover pulls away from me and my back is pressed against his door once more.  His sweet but intense eyes glance down as he hitches my skirt up around my waist.  Lips curve up in a smile when he sees I’m wearing his favorite purple panties.  

A slight growl in the back of his throat sends shivers up my spine and suddenly he is on me.  His lips are back on mine briefly, then across my cheek and down my neck as his hand slips between my legs, teasing me through the wet fabric covering my throbbing pussy.  One finger traces the outline of my slit, and then cleaves me, pressing gently on my swelling button.

“Shh, someone will hear you,” he whispers into my ear, then bites the lobe before flicking it with his tongue and moving back to my neck.  I bite my lip to quiet the moans escaping my throat.

Warm hands slip into the sides of my panties and push them down, just to mid-thigh, and I must stifle another moan as he parts my soaked folds and runs his fingers through my skin again.  His fingers, coated in my arousal, slide easily back to front before circling my clit and this time I simply can’t keep quiet.

I pout as he pulls away and looks at me in mock chastisement.  Then a mischievous gleam lights his eyes and he is kneeling to pull my panties down my legs and over my heels.  A kiss on my glistening mound makes my knees weak and then my love is upright again, holding my panties in his hands and staring at me in a way that makes me quiver.  

My left hand is brought over my head and then the right where they are both trapped in one of his, pinned against the door behind me.  Another searing kiss; he swirls his tongue with mine and then sucks lightly on it.  When he pulls away he brings his other hand, the one holding my panties, up to my mouth and demands, “Open.”

Salty cream coats my tongue and I am completely at his mercy, his body pressing me against the door, my hands trapped above my head.  His hand is between my legs once more and while I still moan, the noises are muffled by my panties in my mouth.

He knows how to touch me to drive me insane; his fingers sliding through my slick folds, circling my clit, slowly, deliberately, and then two fingers inside my tight hole.  My hips push towards him, my legs spread wide, only my shoulders, head, and hands still against the door and I start to feel it take over me: the tightness coiling in my belly, ready to snap.  His hand holding my wrists grips tighter while his other fucks me, his palm pressing right on my swollen clit.  I feel his fingers curl inside me, stroking my spot, and I press harder into him and let go.

The sensation runs through me, the wonderful jolts of pleasure spreading to the tips of my fingers and toes.  Rolling waves of euphoria, all with his name on them, cause me to spasm around his fingers.

He doesn’t let me move, not right away, but keeps me there, pressed against the door, panties still in my mouth.  He stares intently into my eyes as he keeps moving his fingers in and out of me until my orgasm runs its course and I am left breathless and dizzy.  

He releases my wrists and now I am the aggressor.  Pulling the panties from my mouth, I toss them aside and kiss my love with a ferociousness that has him stumbling backwards.  My hands are fists in his hair while he works on the buttons of the blue blouse that soon joins my panties on his office floor.  

We kiss passionately as we make our way over to his chair that I am not ashamed to say has suffered much abuse from our lunchtime trysts.   My lover sits and pulls me into his lap so that I am straddling him, my skirt still bunched up so that I am totally exposed from the waist down.  I feel his hands caress my back as he leans in and places his mouth at my left breast, sucking my nipple through the lace of my purple bra.  Hands around his head, I hold him to me while shocks of electricity run straight from my nipples to my throbbing cunt.

My hands reach down to free his cock from the confines of his pants and it springs free, standing proud and glistening at the tip.  I thumb the bead of wetness there and he hisses in response.  When I tease myself by rubbing his hard shaft through my wet folds he throws his head back and sighs.  My lips take the opportunity to caress his neck and when I finally sink down, taking his cock all the way inside to the base, I feel the muscles of his throat strain.

“Oh baby,” he groans and then places his hands at my hips while I grind against him.

He is fully sheathed within me, so hard, so deep, so fucking wonderful.

Our mouths connect again, tongues circling together, slowly and sensually, our breathing as one.  My hips thrust against him in a steady rhythm until we can both feel how close we are to coming.  I lean back, bracing myself with my hands resting on his legs behind me and I start to move faster.  His fingers pull the cup of my bra down, exposing my right breast and his teeth clamp down gently on my nipple before he sucks it into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it.

“Ah, fuck,” I call quietly as I start to come again and he replies with a deep groan.  His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls me tightly to him.  I watch his face twist in agonized bliss as he comes deep inside me, his cock pulsing in time with his labored breaths.  

My body is calm now, sated, as I lie against him and his warms hands run up and down my back.  I rest my head against his shoulder and I feel his lips at my forehead.  I sigh.  I am completely at ease.  When our breathing slows I finally lift my head and look at my lover.  He grins at me and then kisses me softly and sweetly, his hands cradling my face as though I am a precious treasure.

Though I desire nothing more than to spend the rest of the day right here, I sadly have work to get back to.  Very reluctantly, I extract myself from my lover’s embrace, locate my soaked panties and blouse and make myself presentable once again.  With a kiss to my lips and a spank to my bottom, he bids me a good afternoon.  As I exit his office I throw a wink over my shoulder and say, “See you tomorrow, baby.”

What Turns You On?

When it comes to the opposite sex, what really gets you going?

For most gentlemen I know it’s a nice ass that does them in or, of course, a killer rack.  The ladies, they’ll usually say a sexy smile or intense eyes and I’ll agree with that.  But there is one body part on a man that drives me absolutely wild…

 

No, not THAT.

 

Well, okay THAT and…

 

His hands.

Mmmm, show me a man with strong, masculine hands and I’ll show you a girl with drool on her chin.   I say masculine and I mean it.  I’m not looking for men who get manicures on Sundays or hands that feel like a baby’s bottom.  A man’s hands should be slightly rough, even a little callused, maybe.  But long fingers, clean and trimmed nails, and palms perfect for spanking?  Yessssss.

I will admit I look at sexy images.  I’m a writer and I need to be inspired.  Some of those images happen to be of naked men.  Yes, it is hot to see a nice, hard cock on display.  Now, if the man’s beautiful hand is wrapped around that cock?

Goodnight nurse.

I am not sure what it is.  Maybe it’s the thought of what those hands can do.  I’m a very tactile person; I like to pet and be petted.

Perhaps knowing that such powerful hands have the ability to snap me like a twig?  The danger fantasy, maybe.

Whatever the case may be, I am a sucker for a man with attractive hands.

What turns you on?

Blog Hop- Behind the Scenes

Special thanks to the hot, sexy, talented Oleander Plume for tagging me in her blog post.   Supplier kisses to you, hot stuff!  Read her hop answers and other wickedly wild stories here http://oleanderplume.blogspot.com/

You can also get into her head by following her on Twitter https://twitter.com/OleanderPlume

So I have some questions to answer.  Hope you enjoy!

What are you working on right now?

I’m writing an erotic Walking Dead fanfic.  There’s just something about that rotting flesh and the way those zombies say, “Blarrrrrrghhhh,” that get’s my blood pumping.

I jest.

I just finished a sexy little story in celebration of Valentine’s Day (hope you read it!) and have tons of other little one-shots dancing around in my head.

I am also slooooowly but surely working on my third untitled novel that is somewhat of a spin-off of Falling from Disgrace.  It centers on Gillian, Jack’s sister, whose life gets thrown into major upheaval after her husband’s untimely death and tons of hidden skeletons come spilling out of the closet.

How does your work differ from others in its genre?

I would say that they’re more realistic romance than fantasy romance.  Billionaire boyfriends are always fun to read about but I find, as a reader, I’m much more invested in a story if I can connect with the characters in some way.  I try to write stuff that happens to everyday people but not take it too over the top with the drama.  I won’t write about things that make you go, “Pfft, that’ll never happen!”

Why do you write erotic romance?

I love writing and I love sex!  What better thing than to combine the things you love?

I also find it challenging and I love a good challenge.  Each sex scene needs to be erotic but without repeating yourself over and over.  There are only so many words that can be used to describe certain body parts and acts and so I have fun trying to come up with new ones each time I write a scene.

How does your writing process work?

I start with a specific scene in my head that inspires the entire novel.  It’s usually one that occurs somewhere in the middle of the story.  Then I’ll develop the characters from there, make profiles for them, write an outline, that sort of thing.  I’ll work forward from that scene, or backward, depending on where my head is that day.  My books are never written in order.

If you look at Whatever it Takes for example, I had been throwing the idea around of writing about the “perfect” couple whose relationship is suddenly rocked when one of them cheats.  One day I was talking to a friend about panic attacks and I had a vision of woman suffering one at the thought of her marriage ending.  The scene where Emma has the attack in the bathroom came from that and that’s how I started that book.  I wrote that scene and then went from there.

After I finish I go back and revise.  And revise.  And revise.  Then edit.  And when I think it’s perfect I revise and edit about three more times.  Truth be told, I am never one hundred percent satisfied with the finished product but at the end of the day if I know I did the absolute best I could, I’m happy.  I’ve been fortunate enough that others have been happy with it too.

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So now that you’ve spent a little time in my head, perhaps you’ll visit my friends Mary, Cecily, and Aria.  These sexy and sassy ladies are next on the hop.   Tag gals, you’re it!

  Mary Palmerin http://marypalmerinauthor.blogspot.com/

Bio: I am an author of psychological drama and romantic erotica. My debut, “Succumbing to Scars and Sorrow” is available in print/ebook everywhere. My prequel novella, “Secrets of a Broken Girl” is available as an ebook on Amazon. I enjoy reading and reviewing books when I am not writing. I love fictional men, tattoos, coffee, red wine, and HEA.

  Cecily http://cecilysbookreview.blogspot.com/

Bio: I enjoy reading romance books……I am open to any and all books! My all time favorite book is Succumbing to Scars and Sorrow by Mary E. Palmerin

    Aria Masterson  http://quickanddirtystories.blogspot.com/

Happy Valentine’s Day

A sexy Valentine’s Day treat for you….

She pulls her pink lace panties up and the elastic makes a soft snapping noise as they mold to her hips.  He stands behind her, quietly, not saying a word. He simply watches as she slides the index finger of each hand beneath the fabric that rests just above the curves of her bottom, adjusting the fit of her underwear.  God, that is such a sexy move and she doesn’t even know it.

It isn’t until she leans forward, reaching for her matching bra that lies amidst the rumpled sheets on the bed, that he is overcome with lust for her.  Bent over at the waist, her legs spread just slightly, her delicious ass taunts him.  The morning light streaming in through the windows makes her skin glow and he moves quickly, taking three long strides across the bedroom floor to her.

His bare chest presses against the skin of her naked back and he sweeps her long dark hair to the side to kiss her tenderly on her shoulder.  As he does, his right hand caresses her body from her neck down to her hip where he digs his fingers in and pulls her to him so that his growing erection is snuggled against her ass.

A slight gasp escapes her lips but then they turn up in a smile as she begins to grind against her lover.  A deep growl resonates from within his chest as his cock is teased and his teeth nip desperately at her flesh.  Reaching between their bodies, his snakes his hand between her legs, his middle finger cleaving her, rubbing against damp lace covering her mound.  He grins wickedly when her deep moans fill his ears and turn him on all the more.  He works her over, taking his time, methodically stroking her clit, bringing her right to brink, but then stops.  Before she can protest he takes her hands in his and places them on the footboard of the bed.

“Don’t move,” he insists.

Dropping to his knees behind her, he pulls at the barrier of pink lace until they fall to her ankles and then he runs his hands up the back of her calves, knees, thighs, until they come to rest on her backside.  Kneading the plump flesh, spreading and pressing the skin there, he moves closer and inhales the musky scent of her arousal.

His hand guides her to bend forward a little more and the pink lips of her swollen sex reveal themselves to him.  Without hesitating he tastes her, his tongue working its way through her velvety slit to circle her throbbing button while two of his fingers ease into her warm, wet hole.  Sucking her clit, fucking her with his hand, he owns her, her body, her pleasure, her cries, her desperation for release; they all belong to him.   She knows this and so she begs him not to stop as her legs begin to shake and the fingers of her right hand pinch and pull the nipple of her left breast.

Her pleas provoke her lover’s need to satisfy her and he intensifies his actions, pressing deeper into her, curling his fingers to stroke her from the inside.  He sucks her aching clit and she cries out loudly, coming hard and suddenly, his mouth flooding with the tangy taste of her orgasm.

Breathless and needy, he stands, stroking his cock with his wet hand, readying himself to take her.  With one palm gripping her hip, he positions himself at her entrance and thrusts, hard, causing them both to exclaim as he is sheathed and she is stretched.  He begins to move immediately though slowly, his thick cock gliding easily in and out of her tight, wet pussy.  They speak to each other only in sighs and moans but they respond as familiar lovers do.  She bows her head and lifts her ass higher and he strikes her plump cheek with his palm and then rubs the sting away.  The shocks are felt by them both; her cunt throbbing and squeezing his cock tighter.

He picks up his pace and she braces herself against the bed so that he slams into her more forcefully.  He feels it, the tightening, the coil ready to spring, but he holds his release off, anxious to get his lover off once more while he is inside of her.  He continues to thrust while his hand reaches up her body to turn her head towards him.   Parting her lips with his first finger he tells her to suck.

She draws his finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the rough skin, getting it slick with her saliva.  When he is convinced it is wet enough he brings his hand back down to her ass, slides his finger between her cheeks, teasing her puckered entrance before penetrating her.

She cries out loudly and thrusts her hips back against him, her arms almost buckling from the intensity of the wonderful agony.  He is goaded to quicken his movements, and he pounds away at her, his cock and finger both driving into her hard now.  He can sense that she is about to come again and he extends his arm once more to fist his hand her hair.

Her head is yanked back and she screams as she orgasms again, her pussy clenching around his cock.  He follows, his own guttural cry filling the room as he stills and his dick pulses hot come inside of her.   She writhes against his body, grinding out both of their releases, moaning and panting heavily.

He withdraws from her tenderly, pulls her into his arms, and she falls against him.  Sweet kisses caress her face as she is placed gently on the bed and held against her lover.  They lie against each other, warm bodies flushed, the air thick with the scent of sex.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he whispers into her hair.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

Bless Twitter

Twitter.  What a wonderful little instrument, huh?  Need an escape from the real world?  Just tap the screen of your smartphone and BOOM, you’re surrounded by people who are just as silly, quirky, and twisted as you are.  Take no offense to that last statement; I wholeheartedly include myself as being a twisted member of the Twitterverse.  And I am just as much addicted to it as you are.  How did it happen though?  How did we all become members of this secret club of millions that no one who isn’t a part of will ever understand?

I joined Twitter in July of 2013 and I will admit I did not get it AT ALL in the beginning.  I joined simply to promote my book which I had recently published and had no intentions of using it to socialize.  Just start talking to random strangers?  Star them, what the fuck does that mean?  Talk about myself personally with these freaks, whaaaa?

It didn’t take long for me to make a few friends, for I grabbed the bull by the horns so to speak and pimped myself like a two dollar whore.

Hey, how are you, my name is Lauren, I wrote a book, wanna read it?!?!

Luckily for me there were several ladies who did not tell me to go to hell and took a chance on my book.  Of course most of them were other writers and I reciprocated, not only making some kickass friends in the process, but getting my hands on some pretty amazing reading material as well.  Score!

What I never expected was to make such an incredible, eclectic, and simply wonderful group of friends on there.   Friends that I never imagined would become such a big part of my life nor think they’d be the kind I couldn’t imagine my life without now.   Friends that I would spend hours talking on the phone with, texting, tweeting (of course) and even meeting up with in the real world.

Meet up with people you met on Twitter?  Whaaaaa?

Hell yes I did and I had the time of my life!

We were all brought together by the talented author, Mary Palmerin (http://marypalmerinauthor.blogspot.com).  Have you read her stuff?  Do it.

The lovely Mary and me!

Mary organized a book signing in New York City and I was fortunate enough to fly to my hometown for the weekend and meet her, Cynthia E. Hansen (http://www.c-e-hansen.me/), equally talented author of “It’s  A Crime” and “It’s  A Shame”, and Michele, our favorite blogger (http://colormegreysessed.wordpress.com/) .  To say I had a blast with these ladies is a total understatement.  And to actually meet them, hug them, laugh with them… can’t even describe it.

Cindy, the Porgy to my Bess!

I can say without a doubt that I absolutely fell in love with these women on Twitter and then it only solidified when I saw them face-to-face.  How incredible, right?  Six months after becoming a tweep I have three new friends whom I feel I’ve known my whole life and would kill for.

The gorgeous egg roll, Michele!

Speaking of people I’m crazy about, I have to take a minute here to bestow some credit where it is rightly due.  I consider myself somewhat computer savvy but when it comes to starting a blog, I was clueless.  Enter Mojo.  Mojo is not only my favorite rock star (check out his music on http://mojosarmy.com) but a technology genius and one of the most generous people I know.  This gorgeous blog you’re staring at right now?  All due to him.  Allow me a minute to show him my gratitude….

Yes, Mojo is also one of my favorite people in the world now and where did I meet him?

Twitter!

My point in all this?  I’m astounded at how many people I’ve connected with and have become attached to all due to our favorite form of social media.  Then I got to wondering, what is it exactly that I get out of it?

Am I just a sad, unsatisfied individual looking for validation from strangers?

Yes, but it’s more than finding people I have something in common with.

*winks forever*

Twitter friends just make me happy.  We tease, we flirt, we laugh, we joke, we instigate, and we behave in ways that would make our mothers cry in shame but it puts a smile on my face every time I enter that world.  I get more support from my Twitter family than anywhere else and my biggest cheerleaders come from there, too.

It’s like a playground, only the jokes are dirtier and there’s alcohol involved.

What is Twitter to you?

“Whatever It Takes” Excerpt

Gavin

 

Present day

 

I was sitting on our living room sofa once again, choosing to stay out there rather than sleep in our bed without Emma. I hadn’t bothered to change from my shorts and t-shirt from the party and after Emma had gone to bed I just sat on the couch, thinking about what I had done and what was going to happen to us. I had been dozing on and off, not really sleeping but not quite fully awake either as my thoughts churned. I had my head thrown back, resting on the top of the cushion, my face turned up towards the ceiling when I heard the sound of bare feet hit the wooden floor of the living room.

 

“Em?” I said, squinting in the dark. The only light on was the one glowing from above the stove in the kitchen behind me.

 

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I need a drink.”

 

She poured herself a glass of orange juice from the kitchen and then joined me back in the living room, sitting at the other end of the dark, leather sectional.

 

“What are you doing on the couch?” she asked me before taking three greedy gulps from the glass.

 

I shrugged. “I didn’t want to sleep in our bed without you.”

 

She snorted. “But a month ago you wanted to sleep in a hotel bed with another woman. You’re funny, Gavin, you know that?”  She let out a half-assed laugh that turned into a giggle. Before I knew it she was full out belly laughing and then, just as quickly, she was hanging her head and crying into her juice.

 

I moved to take the glass out of her hand and set it on the coffee table before kneeling at her feet. I grabbed both of her hands in mine.

 

“Emma, please. Don’t cry,” I begged.  God, it killed me when she cried, even more so when I was the cause. “I am so sorry, so fucking sorry for what I did. I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I swear, if you can try to forgive me I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you, I swear it.”

 

She leaned forward and rested her chin on my shoulder and I wrapped her in my arms. “Why?” she cried in my ear.  “Why, Gavin? I don’t understand. I thought we were happy. Wasn’t I enough for you?” Her whole body shook with sobs.

 

“Of course you are, baby.  You’re everything to me,” I said, and I wasn’t lying. Emma was my world. Since the day I met her, I had been crazy about her. I loved how strong she was, something she didn’t give herself nearly enough credit for. She had always thought her OCD and need for control were things that I just put up with. They weren’t. I loved her even for that.  I thought it was adorable how she kept things so neat and organized in our home. It made life easier that way, anyhow.  I also loved that when she was anxious I was able to calm her. It made me feel like her hero in some way.

That even though she was a tough woman there was a vulnerable side to her and she needed me to protect her from that.

 

And so I pulled back and took her face in both of my hands. “This had nothing to do with you, you have to believe that. This wasn’t about anything you’ve done or didn’t do. It was only about me and my fucked up need to… to… I don’t know. I just know that it meant nothing and it will never happen again.”

 

The words I used to try to soothe her seemed to have the opposite effect. She grew angry and pushed me away, standing from the couch.

 

“You were the one I could brag to all my friends about!”  she screamed at me. She screamed so loud she winced as it burned her throat. Still, she continued, “about how wonderful you are! How you’re kind, and handsome, and helpful, and smart, and successful! How you were sweet and loving and made me feel like I was luckiest girl in the world! And you destroyed all that! All of it!  In one fucking night you threw everything you were and everything we had out the fucking window and now you’re telling me it was over something that didn’t mean anything?” She was in my face now, somehow towering over me though I was several inches taller than her.  “How could you do this to us? How?” Suddenly, her hand flew out in front of her and she slapped me across my face. The noise of it echoed throughout the room. As hard as she’d hit me,  it didn’t seem to abate her anger.

 

“How?” she screamed and slapped me again. “How?!”  Her hand connected with my face one more time and I felt like my skin had split, the sting was so bad. I didn’t care though. Let her beat me to a pulp if it would make her feel better. I knew though that no matter how angry she was, she’d only feel guilty about it in the morning. When she made one more feeble attempt to raise her hand to me again, I caught her by her wrist this time and pulled her into my arms and crushed her to my chest.

 

“No,” she cried and made a weak attempt to push me away but my arms were too strong. “No, let me go. Let me go.”

 

I bent my head and whispered in her ear.  “No, Emma. I’m not letting you go. I’ll never let you go.”

 

“Falling From Disgrace” Excerpt

Jack was somewhat surprised when Adrianna made what she wanted clear by approaching him in his apartment first.  He had his share of one night stands and usually the girl would play coy at first, accepting a drink and flirting before the inevitable happened.  But Adrianna didn’t play any games and when she put her hands on him he saw the same need he was feeling reflected back at him.  He glanced down at those amazing lips of hers once again and then brought his own lips down upon them.

 

They were just as soft as he’d hoped they’d be.

 

Adrianna groaned when Jack opened his mouth against hers and his tongue ran softly against her lower lip.  He kept it sweet and slow at first but when she brought her hands up to wrap around the back of his head he drove in harder, making deep, sensual sweeps through her mouth.  His kiss was murderous, meant to slay her in every way possible, and God, did she think it was going to kill her.  He was kissing her, really kissing her, not in the obligatory way that most men did before moving down in a hurry to get on with the real action.  He made her feel craved with every flick of his tongue, every caress of his lips, and when he pulled her to him more tightly so that their bodies were flush, a foreign sensation came upon her.  She felt… content.  This wasn’t about just wanting a distraction from the pain anymore, nor the horrible reality of what her life had become.  No, it was much more than that.  It was about an attraction, and not just a physical one, between a man and woman who desired one another.  Desire.  What a difference there was between that and want.

 

Jack was determined to remain unhurried with Adrianna, to take his time with her, but when she moaned softly into his mouth as he kissed her his restraint was diminished.  Fuck, he wanted her and wanted her badly.  He brought his hands around to the backs of her thighs and lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist without being told to do so.  He carried her across the room to press her against the wall that led to his bedroom.  There he finally moved his mouth from hers to taste the skin of her neck and collarbone.  He was pleased to learn that they were just as sweet and soft as her lips, as were her cries when he moved one of his hands to knead the flesh of her breast.  When Adrianna squeezed her legs more tightly around him he knew it was time to move this to his bedroom.

 

Paperbacks now Available on Amazon!

Hello readers! My novels “Whatever it Takes” and “Falling from Disgrace” are now available as paperbacks through Amazon! Now you can get a hard copy of these popular novels in addition to the Kindle/e-reader versions already available.

See my Amazon page for more information.