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Janet Eckford Copyright © 2012 by Janet Eckford All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright. This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. Published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC PO Box 61 Colfax, NC 27235 www.beautifultroublepublishing.com Cover Art: Marteeka Karland, http://www.marteekakarland.com/ Editor: Novellette Whyte http://authorgurunovellette.blogspot.com/ Proofreader: Cindy Davis, http://www.fiction-doctor.com/ Formatter: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/ E-book Conversion: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/ ISBN: (e-book) 978-1-61788-225-8
This is for my mother who gave me the best explanation of love between partners: “There are times that I wake up and the sound of your father’s voice drives me crazy, but I know that it’s just a moment and it will pass.” Thanks Mommy.
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CAVEAT This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.
I “It isn’t that bad, is it?” “What’s your definition of bad?” The sound of Joel’s laughter causes people to turn and stare. It is too pure and unadulterated and they watch us as if we are exotic animals in a zoo. I have to resist the urge to stick out my tongue. I hate most of these industry parties in general but the fact that it’s a Valentine’s Party seems to make it worse. “I love when Tabby brings you along,” he says, leaning over to whisper into my ear, referencing our mutual friend. Oh he’s good at that, secret whispers and light touches against exposed skin. He could charm a saint out of her panties and considering that I’m not a saint he’d done it to me on occasion, several occasions in fact. I shiver at the thought of that talented tongue and fingers working their magic between my thighs. “You look lovely tonight, very sexy.” He leans in more as he delivers his compliment. His fingers brush against my lower back and I shiver. He seems to always know where to find the most sensitive parts of my body. The wicked man 7
smiles that Cheshire grin that has made him so famous, as his fingertips tiptoe up my spine. “Let’s go for a drive. It’s such a nice night for one.” His voice is husky in my ear and I can feel the heat of his body as he moves closer to me. He is so good at this, the seduction, and I know that as he places a soft quick kiss on my shoulder I’m lost. He takes my glass of unfinished wine from my hand and places it on the tray of a passing waiter before leading me out of the room. We wind our way through the crowd of people as we pass from room to room in the house where the party is taking place. Finally escaping the clutter of bodies and cacophonies of sound housed inside, we are greeted by the cool breeze of night. He’s taken a different way that has put us toward the back, away from the valet and rows of ridiculously expensive cars. “Special treatment,” I say, noticing his car parked to the side. “Something like that,” he chuckles. I walk over to the passenger side but pause at the touch of his hand. He gathers me in his arms and places a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth. I look at him with surprise because I’ve known his kisses for several years now, but this one is new. The night is too 8
Janet Eckford dark and this side of the house isn’t well lit enough for me to see his face but I know he is watching me. A strange tingling feeling flutters in my belly as I try to decipher what he’s thinking. I open my mouth to make a glib remark but the crush of his lips on mine halts any statement I would have made. His tongue plays an erotic tempo in my mouth, and I let out throaty little moans of pleasure. I knew it was coming but each time he kisses me like this I’m surprised at how good it can be. He’s hitching my skirt up as he presses me against the door of his car and I turn my head because I need to get more oxygen, but his greedy mouth quickly claims mine again. I’m panting and gasping, heady on the pure pleasure of what he is creating. I want him to lift me and fill me up, take me under the stars against his car, with the sound of the music from the house drifting through the air. He doesn’t though, and pulls away. My hands reach out and twine their way through the silky strands of his hair and try to bring him back. He won’t come though, because I realize he has something else planned. Lowering himself one kiss at a time down my body he stops to rest his head against my lower belly. The soft silk fabric of my dress is pushed up around my waist and his breath is hot on my exposed skin. 9
“You’re not wearing panties.” I can’t help it, I giggle at the sound of his growled words. I told myself when I got dressed earlier, that panty lines would ruin my look but as he gently strokes his tongue against over body, slick and wet with need, I know what the true answer is. “Please,” I hiss out. He’s doing that thing with his tongue and fingers that causes my body to clench and release with pleasure. The rough texture of the scruff he’s growing on his face skims against my inner thighs, and I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything better. He’s so good it scares me because I don’t want to like it too much. I don’t want to fool myself into believing that our lusty interludes could ever evolve into lovely moments. He pauses in his ministrations and whispers words of praise and gratitude to the most intimate part of my body and I’m lost. All it takes is a slight brush of the very tip of his tongue and I come in great waves of pleasure, and it is bliss. “Beautiful,” he whispers looking at me as he rises. Rubbing his thumb against my bottom lip I feel him staring and that fluttery feeling from earlier has found its way back inside of me. “Still up for that drive?” I ask with a smirk. 10
Janet Eckford He leans in and presses against my body and gently whispers in my ear, “How about breakfast too?” I laugh as I nuzzle my lips against his neck and think, maybe this could be a lovely moment after all.
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II “Shit,” I sigh as the pot boils over. I had grand plans for tonight. I wanted our first Valentine’s Day as a couple to be perfect when Joel got home after being away on location for so long, but as I look at the disaster that is the kitchen I scramble to think of what to order from take out. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway sends me into a frenzy because I realize he’s home early. Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes and I want to slap myself for being so silly. Get it together girl, I chastise myself. Realizing that the kitchen is a lost cause, I turn off the stove and sprint out of the room and down the hall to our bedroom. It’s been a year since we’d moved in together but I still get a fluttery feeling in my stomach whenever I thought of anything as “ours”. “Elisa,” he calls out as he comes through the front door. I sprint into our bathroom and try desperately to get the remnants of food off of my face and…dear God, how the hell did I get it in my hair. A great ball of hysteria threatens to take over as I pluck at a bit of food tangled in one of my unruly brown curls. 12
Janet Eckford “Fuck it.” I grimace at the reflection of myself in the mirror and run back into our room. I stop at the sight of Joel standing in our doorway. He’s holding a bouquet of wild flowers and wearing a silly grin. I don’t know why but watching him standing there makes me nervous because I realize just how much I’ve missed him while he was gone, and that scares me. I also realize that I’m still wearing my ratty housedress and not the sexy little black dress I’d planned on, and I sink down on our bed with a sigh. “I was hoping I’d get a better greeting than this,” he says dryly as he walks into the room. “You’re early,” I reply in an accusatory tone. “Once again, hoping for a better greeting.” He plops next to me on the bed and waves the flowers in my face. I’m really gone now and those foolish tears I fought off earlier work to claim a space in the corners of my eyes, threatening to flood my face. “Hey, babe, what’s with the tears?” he coos as he wraps his arm around my shoulder. “This isn’t how I planned it. I was going to wow you with my culinary skills, whilst seducing you in this sexy little black dress I’d bought for tonight,” I sniffle and twist the fabric of my housedress in my hands.
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The sound of his laughter doesn’t help my mood and I snatch the flowers he bought me out of his hand and hit him with them. He grabs my wrist before I can swipe him again and pins me under him on the bed. I look into his laughing eyes that are equal parts mischief and warmth, and I chuckle. I can never stay mad at him for long. “I’m definitely hungry but not for something that can come out of the kitchen, and you know you’re always sexy to me, no matter what you’re wearing,” he whispers as his brushes his lips against the shell of my ear. I shiver at the contact and bring my foot up to run along his leg. “Such a clever, clever man you are.” He presses a kiss against that spot just below my ear I didn’t know I liked having kissed until I met him. He frees my wrist as his hands travel along my body and I let mine do a little exploring of their own. I love when he’s over me like this because I can run my fingers across the firm muscles of his back, letting them travel down to the even firmer muscles of his ass. The gentle caress of his lips across my skin coupled with the tips of his fingers along my thigh; cause me to pant with need.
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Janet Eckford I’ve worked my hands under his shirt and the feel of his hot skin against mine sends an electrical current of pleasure through my body. His lips travel across my face, finding my mouth with a kiss that is as explosive as ever. He nips and tugs at my lips with his teeth, using his tongue to sooth bites that balance on the fragile border of pleasure and pain. It’s been so long and I can tell he really is hungry. Just the thought of that hunger makes my body moisten with anticipation. “You’re not wearing panties,” he sighs as his hand caresses me. When one of his fingers makes its way inside of me I don’t bother responding. This is nice but it isn’t what I really want so I start clawing and grasping at his jeans. He doesn’t help me because he’s released my breasts from the confines of my clothing and is giving them all his attention. I’m wild with need and desire as he pulls at me with his lips, biting down ever so gently with his teeth, and I growl in frustration that his pants don’t have a zipper. He takes pity on me and hurriedly undoes the buttons at his fly and my hands find their prize. He’s hot and heavy. All I can think about now is the velvety smooth feel of him gliding inside of me. “Inside me…now,” I gasp out. 15
“Now this is the type of greeting I was expecting.” I open my mouth to blast him but he’s already spread me open and is pushing inside. “So good.” His hot breath against my ear sends little tingles of pleasure through my body. I’d planned for soft candlelight and coy looks, seduction at its finest, but as he pushes further into me on the bed that was now “ours” all I could think about was having him hard and fast. “More,” I plead as I dig my nails into the skin of his back. I know this—the kinetic energy of want and desire only he can evoke in me. I missed this—his hot hands and whispered words of naughty promises. I needed this—getting lost in the sounds and smells of us joining together in the most intimate of ways. He kisses me again as he tilts my body to go even deeper and I sigh with pleasure into his mouth. “Beautiful.” The reverent tone of his declaration as he looks into my eyes is all I need and I am lost to the feel of him inside me and the sounds of him coming. A wave of pleasure always sweeps me up in moments like these, but this time, this time it feels different, 16
Janet Eckford somehow special, and as the haze of my desire begins to clear from my eyes I see this same feeling reflected in his eyes. “Love you,” he says before brushing his lips gently across mine. “Love you,” I reply with a sigh because fancy dinners and sexy little black dresses don’t matter after all.
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III “Hello, sexy.” I can’t help smirking at the sound of that deeply seductive voice whispering in my ear. Tilting my head to the side I provide the permission I know his greeting is requesting. The feel of his lips pressed against the pulse in my neck, that has now begun to throb because of his close proximity, is a delicious little treat. His hands find their way to my hips, gripping and tugging me toward the warmth of his body. “Hello,” I whisper back. His soft chuckle sends vibrations of pleasure along my skin as he gently nips and kisses the curve of my neck. He knows that those little caresses kindle a fire that will spark a flame of passion within me. His hot heavy hands wonder the contours of my body, gathering the breezy cotton of my dress as they search for the sleek, slippery texture of my most intimate flesh. “Nice,” he moans in appreciation when he discovers I’m not wearing panties. “It is, isn’t it?” I reply in a breathy quality. 18
Janet Eckford I would reach around and tangle my hands in the silky softness of his hair but I deny myself to prolong the anticipation of that particular pleasure. Instead I grip the counter he now has me pressed against. We are the only customers in this section of the antique store and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he is up to. “Did you leave the house like this?” he asks seeking and parting flesh that hungers for his touch. “Does it matter?” I brush ever so gently against the solid mass straining his jeans. His only response is a soft chuckle that answers my question more clearly than any words he could say. We have perfected these little non-communications over the years, a look, a sigh, a well-placed moan just when… “Now, you mustn’t be too loud, sexy,” he whispers into my ear as he slips his fingers inside me. He is the maestro and I am his prized instrument. “Like that?” He is teasing me now but I don’t mind because I’m lost in the moment of pure pleasure. My hands will no longer be denied their rights to caress and explore. One to clasp the back of his neck and the other to get lost in the softly silken strands of his hair. I feel an 19
orgasm cresting on the horizon, warm and comforting like the rising sun, and I rush to greet it. “Oh please,” I plead. I am needy and raw with desire and his labored breaths on the back of my neck are pushing me closer to the edge. This naughty little tryst, in the cluttered antique shop in the quaint seaside town, is bliss and my heart expands with the joy of sharing it with him, my love, my life. “Beautiful,” he moans softly into my hair. That one word is the aphrodisiac I needed to help me reach completion. I come in great waves of silent pleasure. There is a stillness that occurs in those moments of uncomplicated euphoria that makes me feel as if I am not bound to the laws of time and space. I relish the purity of it because it is something uniquely ours. Until the sound of rustling feet and muffled voices bring me back to the reality of our situation. I move to get myself sorted, as I stifle a nervous chuckle at the thought of almost getting caught. When the owner comes toddling back into the private area we’ve made our own, I brush at the crumpled fabric of my dress. My husband Joel, the naughty man that he is, gives me a quick wink and stuffs his hands in his pockets. 20
Janet Eckford “Well, it doesn’t seem like we have what you were looking for. If you’re going to be in town for a while, I know the fella who runs the other antique store, and he said if you could make it today he’d look into it for you,” the shop owner says resting his hands on his ample belly. I start to think about another cluttered shop and private nooks and smile brightly. I turn and look at my husband, whose eyes are sparkling with a mischievous intent, and I already know what his answer will be. “We’d really appreciate that information,” I say sincerely. The older man nods his head and turns to lead us back toward the front of the store, but I don’t immediately follow. Instead I turn and whisper in my husband’s ear, “I told you this would be a fun way to spend Valentine’s Day.”
Janet
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Janet Eckford Like most great superheroes (or super-villains, depending on who’s telling the story) Janet Eckford lives a double life. By day Janet is a mild-mannered crusader for justice (or nefarious deeds, depending on who’s telling the story) and by night an indestructible creator of prose (or pathological liar, depending on who’s telling the story) while munching on her favorite cookies—oatmeal raisin. A native West Coaster who hails from the sunny state of California Janet, has loved the romance genre ever since she convinced her dad it was required reading when she was eleven. Janet believes love shouldn’t have a color code and strives to create stories that represent that belief. Send her your praise and adoration and she will return it in kind.
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