Torrid Teasers 02 [Anthology]

TORRID TEASERS VOLUME 2: SNOWBOUND & VALENTINE’S DAY by

Ann Cory & Jane Leopold Quinn

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Published by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS Whiskey Creek Press PO Box 51052 Casper, WY 82605-1052 www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright  2006 by Nancy Jackson & Jane Leopold Quinn Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. ISBN 1-59374-625-3

Credits Cover Artist: ESCORPIO Editor: Lynn Schuster Printed in the United States of America

Dedication From Ann Cory: To my husband. Because of you, I no longer feel the chill of winter. From Jane Leopold Quinn: Always to Paul, and to Brooke for suggesting the red satin pillow.

Table of Contents Snowbound Valentine’s Day

1 27

SNOWBOUND by

Ann Cory

1

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Emily tightened her bootlaces, ignoring the numbness settling into her fingers. It didn’t seem to matter which direction she walked; she was hopelessly lost. Looking behind her, her footprints were already gone, quickly covered over by a layer of fresh snow. The clothing she’d worn hadn’t done a thing to keep her warm and she wouldn’t be surprised if she froze to death. She bit her lip and braved the storm, hoping eventually she’d find some decent shelter. As she clambered through the snow, her negative internal dialogue kicked in and reminded her how stupid she had been to think roughing it in a cabin for two weeks in winter would be the perfect way to finish her novel. Her publisher had talked her into taking a vacation for a change of scenery and to clear her mind. With her deadline approaching, she needed complete concentration to deliver the next novel in the series. Reluctantly, Emily gave in and packed her bags. Northern Maine was nothing like New York City, but she couldn’t deny how beautiful it was. The brochure had said her cabin would have all the touches of home, and it didn’t lie. The furniture was nice and it came fully equipped with dishes, silverware, and a fully functional bathroom. Her cabin was situated between the legendary Northwoods and the beautiful Moosehead Lake region. The idea of seeing mountains and lakes sounded wonderful, but she wasn’t enthused about the prospect of meeting moose, bears, or any other wilderness 2

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animals if she could help it. Emily made up her mind to go and spend all day inside. She wished she had done just that. The first day had gone well enough and she’d added an extra eight thousand words to the manuscript. By the second day, she not only missed the ping of her computer when a new e-mail message came through, but she missed the daily grind. Her life was comprised of routine. All of a sudden, she was holed up in a much too quiet place and far away from the good old New York traffic, sounds of cars honking, construction workers drilling, and walk signals. She realized that no matter what, she was a creature of habit and desperately wished she were back home. Her stomach gurgled for the umpteenth time and she wished for a French vanilla cappuccino, or anything to warm her insides. Now, thanks to her inexperience and nonexistent sense of direction, she was lost in the middle of a snowstorm, cold and hungry. A distinct smell traveled along with a powerful gust of wind that nearly toppled her over. It was the scent of wood, herbs, and if she wasn’t mistaken, lamb. She followed the sumptuous aroma until she came to a cabin, the first one she’d seen, complete with rows of logs all cut the same length. If this was a mirage, it was a damn fine one. Her legs were ready to give out, but she made her way to the door, the powdery snow crunching loudly beneath her highly impractical boots. Forcing her hand into a fist, she pounded against the battered wood and hoped someone was home. The way the wind whistled and howled through the trees, she didn’t think her knock was loud enough, so she tried again. Emily put her ear against the door and listened. Were those footsteps approaching? The doorknob turned and she took a step back. Her dry lips painfully stretched into a 3

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semi-smile, but when the door opened, everything went black. **** The instant she opened her eyes, a tremendous jolt of pain shot through the back of her head, causing her to cry out. It took several moments of blinking to focus on her surroundings. Wood paneled walls were her first indication she wasn’t home, safe and sound in her large four-poster bed, and a quick glance out the window reminded her of the snowstorm. She wiggled her feet, legs, and arms to make sure they were still working. Everything seemed fine, aside from the excruciating pain in her head. Carefully, she drew up her arms and bent her elbows, trying to pry herself up. “You’ll want to take it easy for the first little while. You hit your head pretty hard.” The sudden interruption of a voice cutting into her dazed thoughts startled her. Another sharp pain followed, starting at the base of her neck, and worked its way up quickly. She lay back down and closed her eyes tight until the ache subsided. Opening her eyes, she looked around again, the room spinning for a brief moment until she focused on a handsome figure sitting in a rocking chair. “You are starting to worry me. I just may have to venture out and get a doctor for you.” “Where am I?” “My cabin. You passed out when I opened the door. Hence, the bump on the back of your head. I regret I had both hands full and didn’t catch you like a gentleman should. Name’s Heath. I don’t suppose you remember yours?” Her eyes scanned the handsome stranger, gently rocking in a big wooden chair. His cobalt blue eyes had a vibrant sparkle to them, with tiny crinkles at the sides. A slight shade of stubble outlined his mouth and he had a cleft in his 4

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otherwise chiseled chin. Dark brown hair hung to just above his shoulders in a somewhat rumpled way, though very flattering to his triangular-shaped face. If there was any way for pain to disappear at the sight of someone, he was the best medicine she could ask for. “You okay?” His voice was soft, laced with concern. She welcomed the sight of him. “I…I think so. My name is Emily Bronson.” “Well, Emily, what brings you all the way to my cabin in the middle of a treacherous storm? I’m built sturdy enough, but even I wouldn’t venture outside if I didn’t have to.” “I got lost and couldn’t find my way back. I’d been walking for hours. I had wanted to ask if you would let me come in for a short while, just to warm up. I don’t mean to be an inconvenience in any way.” “You’re far from an inconvenience. It can get mighty lonely up here, especially during winter.” “This is my first time here, and I have a feeling it will be my last.” Heath let out a hearty laugh and it was music to her ears. She tried to sit up again, thinking it poor manners to be lying down when the host was seated in a chair, but her head simply wouldn’t allow it. “I think you should rest just as you are. There’s plenty of time to thank me with a dance.” “A dance?” “I don’t mean to embarrass you, but while you were unconscious, you talked out loud about how much you wanted to dance. It seems only fitting that you would dance with me.” For the first time in hours, she felt heat rise from her toes to her face. She must have been talking about the character in 5

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her book, a young woman trying to be independent back in the early 1800’s, wanting to dance and express herself. “I hope I didn’t say anything else that might come back to haunt me later,” she added with a half smile. “Not at all. I’m going to let you rest for a spell and then when you wake up again, I’ll spoon you up some of my famous rosemary and lamb stew. It’s a guaranteed tummy warmer.” Emily meant to offer her thanks again but felt the room spin until she had no choice but to close her eyes. **** This time when she woke, she remembered where she was. The aroma of the stew made her stomach growl noisily and her mouth salivate. Heath was by her side holding a large bowl and spoon. His face was a nice thing to wake up to. “Now I’m happy to feed you if you think you need it, or you can eat by yourself. Makes no never mind to me.” She slowly sat up, resting her back against the headboard. “Smells delicious.” “Thanks. It’s my grandmother’s recipe. I could eat this stuff for months.” Emily tried to put her hands around the bowl but she didn’t have any strength in her arms. “Looks like I’m going to have to take you up on that offer.” “No problem.” He dipped the spoon into the stew and brought it to his mouth to blow on it. Emily watched the way his lips made a perfect O shape as he moved the spoon back and forth, letting it cool. Satisfied with the temperature, he offered it to her, opening his mouth at the same time she did. The first bite went down smooth, and her stomach responded with an obnoxious groan. “Sounds like your stomach has good taste.” 6

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Emily laughed. “It’s amazing! You’re a very good cook.” “It’s nothing really. So what possessed you to come out here to northern Maine all alone?” “It was my publisher’s idea. I’m not much of a vacation person but she insisted I get away for two weeks. I’m a writer and have a novel due by the end of the month. I’ve been so stressed out at my other job as an administrative assistant that by the time I get home, I can’t get back into the headspace of my characters. I pretty much work twenty-four/seven. The very peace and quiet I was supposed to fall in love with here was literally driving me crazy. Is it still called cabin fever after only one day?” Heath smiled and offered her another spoonful of the delicious lamb stew. “Anyhow, I couldn’t concentrate anymore and needed some air. For some reason, I couldn’t get the windows open, the latch was firmly in place, and it was much too stuffy, so I went outside. It had just started snowing then, the snowflakes were light and when it landed on my jacket, it had tiny, intricate designs! I glanced around and noticed something a little way up the hill. I went to have a look and found out it was a poor little rabbit in a pool of blood. A rustling sound caught my attention and out trotted a large gray wolf. It stared at me and growled. I didn’t know what to do because it stood between the cabin and me. I was petrified. It looked like it was going to come after me, so I ran. Once I reached the woods, I was lost. Snow had covered any signs of my tracks and the way I thought was home only managed to get me more lost.” “Sounds like quite an ordeal. I’m so sorry you had to experience that. Generally, you don’t have to worry about 7

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wolves around here, but I’d say it was more upset you stood between it and its food.” “I didn’t think about it that way at the time. I’m used to dodging New York City cabs, not animals. I guess you could say I’m not much of a wilderness girl, though a part of me longs to live the lifestyle.” “It’s a peaceful existence, but you have to find a balance.” Emily chuckled softly. “Balance? I’m not a good person to talk about that with. I don’t expect I’ll ever find balance in my life. It’s far too crazy.” “Tell me what your day is like.” She took another bite of the delicious stew and chewed it carefully. “If I’m not working in a big high rise office, I’m working at the office in my home. I pretty much sit in front of computers and type all day, doing things for everyone else, and taking orders from people I don’t like. The writing part doesn’t bother me, that’s my passion. But when you have editors, publishers, and agents hounding you to get something done and out on time, and your head isn’t in it, well…it can become overwhelming.” “You’re telling me. I’m exhausted just listening to you talk about it. I take it you don’t have many days off then.” “No, the muse likes me to stay busy at all times.” “Hmm. I can’t make too many comments considering I did the same thing once. I was one of those workaholics. Three jobs a day. Probably slept about three hours during the week and five on the weekend. I got so rundown one day that I tripped over my own feet on the job and broke my arm in two places. That sure woke me up. Since then, I work for six months for decent pay and spend the other six here. I’ve learned the fine art of balance in order to enjoy my life.” 8

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“That sounds heavenly. If I could, I’d write full-time. When you work for the six months, where do you live?” “Chicago. This will be my last year working and I’ll only be doing two months. Just enough to collect what I need. I’ve saved up enough money to live on for the next fifty years, and then some.” Heath scooped up the last of the stew and fed it to her. With a gentle stroke, he wiped her mouth with a napkin and tilted a glass of water so she could drink. The sound of shingles rattling on the roof startled her and some of the water spilled down her chin. “Oops, sorry. Sounds like the wind is picking up. It sure is stormy out there.” He wiped at her chin again and felt her forehead. “Believe it or not, this storm is quite tame. Hard to imagine if you’ve never been here before, but after awhile, you get used to them. Anything else I can get you?” “No, you’ve been a wonderful host. Thank you so much.” Emily yawned and crouched back down under the covers. Looking outside, she noticed it was pitch black. Where had the day gone? The wind squealed through the tiny cracks of the door and whipped at the windows. She watched Heath wash out the bowls and fill up a teapot with water. Her eyelids fluttered until she couldn’t keep them open any longer. Sleep was slowly spreading across her body, willing her to just let go. Not even two seconds later, a terrible sound startled her wide awake. She cried out as the window near the bed broke and sent glass shards flying. Heath rushed next to her in a split second, shielding her with his body. Hunkered over her, he smelled of cedar and peppermint. “It’s okay. One of the trees fell and looks like the top branch just clipped the window.” 9

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She shivered in his arms, though she wasn’t sure it was just from the bitter wind. In her mind’s eye, she reached up and brought him down on her, ripping off his clothes like a hungry animal. Emily knew she wasn’t that forward, but it was nice to dream. Heath took the blanket and shook off the little glass pieces, fussing over her like a great big teddy bear. “I wish I’d known I was going to have a beautiful woman staying in my place. I’d have thought to bring extra blankets. You’re not hurt, are you?” She shook her head. “Good. Now I’m just going to see what I can do about patching that window up. If I don’t, we’re both going to freeze.” Emily watched him move about the cabin in a chaotic frenzy, gathering all kinds of things together in his arms. She couldn’t explain it, but his presence stirred her insides. It had been ages since she’d had sex with a man, let alone went on a date. Her life was far too busy and private to include such exciting interludes. Now she found herself with a man who, by all rights, was a stranger, but didn’t feel like one. When he’d bent over her, a flood of emotions had been piqued, and she couldn’t help but notice the heat between her thighs. She liked to watch him move. He was strong looking, a bit husky, but in a masculine warrior kind of way. “Don’t you worry your pretty head. I’m going to fix this up as best I can. It should hold through the night.” Emily offered an encouraging smile, but her shivering only increased. She watched with interest as he taped a large piece of metal to the window, followed by a piece of sturdy cardboard and another piece of metal. It helped lessen the wind coming through. 10

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“I’m afraid it’s going to remain cold in here for a little while. You poor thing, you’re just shivering something awful. Here, scoot over a little. This is going to look bad, but I promise I’m not going to try anything.” He stripped off to his boxers and lay next to her. “Let me use my body heat to keep you warm.” They were in such close proximity, that Emily felt dizzy, but in a good way. His skin felt good, warm and inviting. She had no idea if he found her attractive, but she wanted to find out. It was time to stop letting her characters in her books have all the romance. Now was her time. “I sort of wish you would…” Her words hung in the chilled air for what felt like an eternity. “…try something, I mean. I’d sure like it.” “You mean it?” She nodded her head, her fingertips outlining his lips. Moistening her lips, she parted them and waited. Heath brought his lips to hers and they shared a kiss. Any pains she’d felt previously completely dissipated. She brought her arms up and around his neck, drawing him in as close as possible. His breath tasted of peppermint and brought a cool blast down her throat. Her heart pounded as their tongues slipped beside one another, their passionate kisses turning ravenous. Heath pulled away a moment and looked into her eyes. She didn’t know what to say, but hoped her actions said it all. “I don’t want to hurt you. Your head, I mean.” “I’m okay.” Her hands trailed down to his boxers and she tried to tug them down. “Let me help here.” He quickly sat on the bed and pulled them off, sliding back next to her. The contact of his naked 11

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flesh against hers made her body shiver from her toes on up. Yes, it had been too long. She lay on her back while he kissed her cheek and neck, pausing for a quick nibble on her earlobe. Her nipples stretched like tiny buds opening, delighted by the pleasurable tickles his lips produced. His hand roamed along her breasts, spending equal time with both until he brought his mouth down and kissed them. The feel of his tongue flickering around her nipples built up a fire between her thighs. With his attention on her breasts, she swept her hand along his stomach and found his erection. Slowly, she let her fingers brush against the smooth skin and traced his shaft. His moans vibrated against her chest and she started stroking him. Long, graceful strokes. He grew in her hand and nudged to move closer. At the same time, his hand traveled down her body and rested on her hairless mound. Emily’s body reacted as if he’d electrocuted her, her thighs trembling wildly. She spread her legs, and brought his cock closer to her waiting sex. Her heart pounded fiercely as he propped himself over her. “I think I’d like to explore some more,” he said and knelt between her legs. She only saw a flash of his hair and knew what he was about to do. The first moment his tongue flicked at her pulsing clit, she almost went through the roof. Her body twitched and responded. Two fingers swabbed at her damp walls while he sucked her swollen nub, sending waves of goose bumps across her skin. She gripped the pillow tightly, trying not to cry out. The room danced around her, her eyes fluttering open and shut the more intense his actions became. “Now, now, now!” she cried. A raging storm inside her belly swirled into a torrent of desperate need for release. He dipped his fingers in faster as 12

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his tongue and lips brought her body to convulsions. The orgasm spilled over and she cried out in euphoric pleasure. Her legs twitched and shook as her breathing resumed. She let go of the pillow and reached for his arms. “Please, I need to feel you inside. I beg you.” “With pleasure.” He scooped his arms beneath her buttocks and entered her swiftly, leaving her little time to recover. His cock stretched her walls wide apart. Damn, it had been much too long. Heath’s length and size was unexpected as it filled her. She knew it wouldn’t be long before another orgasm ripped through her. Through half-closed eyes, she watched his magnificent body, glistening with a sheen of sweat along his chest. She liked the way he was strong but without overly developed muscles. He took her legs and drew them over his shoulders, finding a way to get even further inside. Emily reached behind her and grabbed the top of the mattress, raising her ass up as high as she could, meeting his delicious thrusts. “I can’t hold back, Em…” She slid her fingers down to her clit and massaged the raw red nub while his shaft pounded away deep within. Closing her eyes, she let the orgasm wash over her at the same time he hollered out. Heath bent forward and delivered a moist, peppermint kiss. “I’d almost forgotten how good it feels,” he whispered in her ear. Carefully, he crawled over to her until he was on his back. Emily turned on her side and rested her body into his. What a perfect fit. Their bodies worked well together. She had no doubt she was glowing as her thighs continued to shudder every few seconds. “Mm. That was nice.” Heath ran his hand across hers. “It was extremely nice.” 13

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Emily smiled to herself. The memory of walking around in the snow utterly lost and alone had almost vanished. Whatever had led her here, she was thankful. Never had she felt so secure. She laid her head on his chest and watched the flame on the candle flicker, casting shadows across the wall. If she’d had any doubts lingering in her mind about being intimate with someone she hardly knew, they had all vanished. His warm, soothing touch validated her need to find shelter in his arms, and follow through with the passionate feelings inside. The peacefulness of her being surprised her. She hadn’t expected to let all her stresses go and give herself freely, but stepping out of character was a welcome change. His quiet, even breath was a lullaby to her ears, and melted away all worries and concerns. At this moment, she’d be willing to stay holed up with Heath forever, enjoying the tranquility of simply existing, miles away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. His arm slipped down along her back and she nuzzled in closer, looking up to watch his nose twitch like a bunny. She hoped whatever he was dreaming about included her. Sleep crept over her a little at a time until her eyelids felt like heavy sandbags had been placed on them. What surprises would the morning bring? **** Smells of fresh roasted coffee and maple syrup brought her back to consciousness. She rolled to her stomach and buried her face into his pillow, breathing in his manly scent. Everywhere his fingers had roamed across her body was still on fire. The clatters of pans brought her to a sitting position where she watched him do a little dance in the kitchen. First to the counter to stir the batter, then to the stove to spoon 14

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out a large dollop of mixture. Then he checked on the coffee and removed two cups from a shelf overhead. The table was all set, complete with a blue and white-checkered tablecloth and a napkin folded into a flower as a centerpiece. A small tear slid down her cheek. Never had she been in the company of such a thoughtful and caring man. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty has awakened without a kiss. Good morning.” His smile warmed her from the inside out. She pretended there was something in her eye and gave him a large grin. “Too many good smells in here.” Heath walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, one hand gently pushing away her hair. “How’s the head?” Emily panicked. He was much too close and she was sure her breath smelled horrible. Instead of answering, she gave him the thumbs up sign. “You should still take it easy. If you’d like, I can serve you breakfast in bed.” She loosely covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. “No, I’d like to eat at the table with you.” Heath gave her a puzzled look. “Is there something wrong with your mouth?” “No…yes. My breath.” He threw his head back and chuckled. “You’re priceless. I have boxes of toothbrushes in the bathroom and plenty of toothpaste if you’d like to clean yourself up before we eat. It’ll be another five minutes. Oh, I’d better turn the pancakes over. The stove doesn’t seem to get real hot anymore, so it takes twice as long to brown things.” Emily gathered the sheet around her body and scooped up her clothes from the floor. She waited until his back was to her before running to the bathroom. It was a small cubbyhole 15

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of a bathroom, but was clean and tidy. Nothing prepared her for what she saw staring back at her. She was an absolute mess! Her auburn hair was frizzed out on one side while the other looked like tangled wires. Most of her makeup had worn off, except for the nice streaks of mascara. She hoped it was the lighting of the bathroom that was making her look paler than usual. Her green eyes practically faded away. “Two minutes!” Heath’s voice bellowed from behind the door. How could she make herself look presentable in two minutes? She tried the mirror to see if it was a medicine cabinet and managed to bring the whole thing off the wall. It fell on the sink, opened, and spilled out its contents: aspirin, tweezers, aftershave, and several tins of dental floss. “You okay in there?” She snatched the medicine cabinet up and tried to reattach it to the wall. “Um, I accidentally pulled on the mirror too hard and the whole thing came off the wall.” “Oh, I should have warned you it does that. The toothbrushes are in the cabinet under the sink. If you need help with the mirror, let me know.” “Okay.” She felt like a clumsy oaf. A dull ache started to form and she found herself cussing up a storm. Finally, she got the mirror back up and found a toothbrush. The minty toothpaste helped stave off some anger, reminding her of how he’d tasted. Turning the faucet on, she did what she could to her hair and scrubbed her face the best she could. As much as she abhorred her appearance, she did the best she could. At least she could say he’d seen her at her worst. The thing she was more sorry about was the lack of time to shave. 16

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Emily dressed quickly and opened the door in time to see Heath pour them each a cup of coffee. “Sugar?” “Yes?” “Cream?” “What? Oh, yes.” Emily felt the heat rise in her cheeks. How could she have thought he was calling her sugar? Heath laughed and pulled the chair out for her. She stared at the plates piled high with pancakes, eggs, sausage links, and peaches. Now wasn’t the time to contemplate her diet. She was starving. “What a spread! Everything looks delicious. Thank you so much.” “Enjoy. I love breakfast; it’s my favorite meal of the day. Followed by lunch and dinner, of course.” She took a bite of the pancakes and let them melt in her mouth. “Mm, these are so good. I haven’t had pancakes in ages.” “Thanks. Another one of my grandmother’s recipe. I tell you, the woman could take a few basic ingredients and make a mouthwatering dish in minutes. Everything I know about cooking, I learned from her. You look like you could use a couple months of pancakes.” Emily wasn’t sure how to respond to his comment. Could it be she heard him wrong? “Pardon me?” “Oh, I didn’t mean it to sound crude. I meant you could stand to gain some weight. You’re a petite little thing.” She almost swallowed the coffee wrong. “Petite? Now there’s a word I never figured to be associated with me. I have a tendency to put on weight quickly, so I have to work at it.” Heath leaned back and grabbed his small potbelly, giving it a firm shake. “You see this here, it’s all breakfast. A person 17

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can’t come up here for the winter and not store a little something. It’s insulation.” She tried to stifle her laugh but he started laughing and she couldn’t help herself. “Hell, I don’t know. I’m forty years old. I quit worrying about weight a while ago. I eat what I want and walk a lot. It’s all about balance, like I said before.” He took a long swig of his coffee and sliced up the sausage links. “So, you said you are a writer. Would I be familiar with any of the titles of your books?” “I have a strong feeling you wouldn’t.” “Oh? Why is that?” “I write historical novels with elements of…erotic romance in them. Judging by your collection of books on fishing, canoeing, and building things, somehow, I don’t think it’s your style.” “Erotic romance you say? Is there any other kind of romance to have?” Again, she felt her cheeks burn bright red. “Well, it certainly makes them more interesting.” “I know you don’t have to worry about research in the erotic department, but how much research do you do on history?” She swallowed too big a bite of her pancakes and had to guzzle the rest of her coffee down before it got stuck. Heath was very different from other men, always saying things to make her feel good. Had she been wrong about love all this time? Could it have some realism to it, and not just a bunch of fiction? “I spend several months researching for each book. My favorite time period is colonial days, though medieval times are a close second. I’m not sure why, but I’m drawn to it. The 18

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uh…erotic romance part is more or less my own personal fantasies.” “Is that so? I’m even more intrigued to read one now. So you get paid fairly well then?” “I can’t complain. Between advances and sales, I do quite well.” “So why the second job?” “For the times when the muse is too distracted. Or in case no one buys my books anymore and I have something to fall back on.” “Do you really believe that?” Emily traced the tablecloth with her fingernail. “No, not really. I know I’m a good writer, and I could be even better if I wrote it full-time. I’d meet deadlines easier and pump out more books a year. I have so many ideas swirling around my head all the time; it’s almost too much. It’s just…I’m not very good at sitting still or quieting my mind. Plus, I think work just keeps me occupied.” “Occupied from what…life?” “No, I think dealing with things.” “Ah, a traumatic childhood?” “Something like that. If I stay busy enough, I can stuff it all away and pretend it doesn’t exist. Writing is sort of a therapy for me as well.” “We definitely have things in common. Do you remember when I was telling you I was a workaholic, too? It was for the same reasons. Basically I dealt with the death of my grandmother poorly and instead of grieving, I got angry. Work was my release. I pushed and pushed myself until I went to the doctor’s one day and found I had an ulcer and my blood pressure was sky high, and my nagging cough was attributed to the air I was breathing. Just a week after that was when I broke my arm. I tried to rush the healing process and 19

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found it only hindered it. I had to make myself sit still, and it took a long time. I started living here for six months and my health problems fixed themselves. Now I look forward to just being. I found I missed a lot in life by never taking the time to enjoy it.” “You’re going to give me one of those ‘stop and smell the roses’ speeches, aren’t you?” He laughed and shook his head. “No, because I didn’t listen when other people told me either. It’s something you figure out sooner or later. I just hope it’s sooner for you.” “I think I’m managing okay.” “Are you? You said you only take two weeks off a year. That can’t be very good for you.” She gave a little snort filled with attitude. “Yeah, and look where a little time off has gotten me!” Emily froze in midsip. She hadn’t meant anything negative by what she said, but she could tell by Heath’s face it had come out wrong. “No, I’m sorry. My words didn’t come out right. What I meant to say was…” Heath stood and started clearing the table. “We should wait a little bit to let our stomachs settle and then I’ll help you back to your cabin.” Emily wanted to say more, but felt horribly foolish inside. There was her mouth going before thinking first. She didn’t know how to talk to men, and just when she thought they were getting along so well, she blew it. Deadlines and intensive writing schedules had left her alone and lacking in social skills. She watched his back as he rinsed off the plates and then filled the sink with soapy water. Walking to the window, she looked out and couldn’t see anything but solid white. “Are we going to be able to get out of here?” 20

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“Not a problem. I’ve been snowed in here lots of times. Got a snowplow truck in the old barn. Just have to dig my way over to it.” He slipped on a pair of long boots and threw on a jacket. Emily walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Heath, about my comment. It didn’t come out right.” “Forget about it. I’m going to be a little bit, see if I can’t blaze us a decent trail. Stay inside where it’s warm.” His tone was clipped and he wouldn’t look at her. She wanted to cry. As he opened the door, there was only a small space from the top of the door to see outside. “Yep, it’ll take me the better part of an hour. I’ll let you know when we can head out.” All she could do was nod her head. The pancakes that had tasted so good sat like a ton of bricks in her stomach. If she could get him to listen to her, he’d realize she meant the comment in a good way. It was her way of saying, she wouldn’t have wanted her vacation any other way than finding a little balance with him, and cuddling up in his arms. She lay down on the bed and curled her knees up into her, wishing her head hurt worse than her heart. **** “Emily, you okay to get moving?” She opened her eyes to see Heath standing over her with a concerned look on his face. His hair was curled with pieces of snow hanging on to the ends. “You’re done so soon?” “Yep. Did you just fall asleep, or are you in pain?” “I’m okay.”

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He held up a coat for her and she slipped into it, wrapping its warmth around her. The nicest part was how it smelled like him. “You’re going to need this. Your coat isn’t going to protect you from the cold air.” Heath also handed her several scarves, a pair of thick wooly mittens, and had her put on several pairs of socks. By the time she was dressed, she had a good idea of how Frosty the Snowman must feel. Lastly, he handed her earmuffs and a hat. “Okay, follow me. I have a good idea which cabin you came from considering you mentioned how close you are to the woods. Sounds like the old Benton place, which is far fancier than my place.” “Actually, I prefer your place to mine. It has a rustic feel, like it belongs. My cabin is a little too modern and lacks the cozy feel and personal touches.” Hardly two words were spoken the rest of the way, making her feel even worse. There was no way to fix things now, but how was she going to shake her feelings? Suddenly, she cried out, startled as she ran right into his back. “Is that yours?” he asked, pointing to a cabin. Emily squinted and looked for the big blue feather in the window. “Yep, that’s the one. Thank you so much for taking care of me. You saved my life.” “Nothing big. I kind of liked the company. Did you want me to go in with you?” “Nah, it’s okay.” She stood in front of him, awkward as hell. All she could think about was the amazing way he kissed and how his hands felt on her body. Saying goodbye sounded too casual, anything else sounded foreign. Instead, she turned and jogged toward her cabin. She pushed open the door and went to take off her jacket when she spied a large cougar 22

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pawing through the food she’d brought. Emily turned to walk out and bumped into a chair. The feline turned its cold, hungry eyes on her and she took off running. “Heath! Heath!” She was afraid to turn around and see the cat hot on her heels. She had no doubt the thing could rip her to pieces with its claws. When Heath emerged in her view, she was relieved. The look in his eyes said more than enough and she ran harder, pumping her arms and trying to move her heavily clothed body as fast as possible. Just as she made it up to him, he raised his coat up and out like a cape making himself appear larger than he was. Waving his arms around and snarling like a bear, the cat slowed down its steady pace until it stopped in its tracks. It hissed and made garbled sounds in some sort of defense, and then skulked off in an entirely different direction. Emily couldn’t believe he had saved her life again. She turned to thank Heath when her head reeled. The blinding whiteness of the snow circled around her several times, and then disappeared from her view. **** Her first word came out more like a groan, but she smiled when she realized Heath was holding her hand. His other hand dabbed her forehead with a damp cloth. “We have to quit meeting like this,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m such a nuisance. I guess the only way to keep me still is to make me stay in a bed.” “It’s worked before. I wouldn’t mind helping you with some research for those historical erotic romance stories of yours.” “Yeah? You know your history?” “Nope. I was thinking of helping you with the other.” 23

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“Then you’re not still angry with me for what I said earlier?” “No.” Emily breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad. I know how it sounded, but I meant something entirely different. You’ve been the only good part of my coming here.” “How can a guy stay mad at a lady who keeps falling at his feet?” “How is it I just met you and feel so close to you?” “I can’t explain it myself, but I feel the same way.” “Our lives are very different, we run at different speeds. I don’t see how it could ever work. Do you?” “Tell you what. Why don’t you spend the rest of your vacation with me, where you’ll be pampered and well taken care of? Then we can work out the details of how we see things going. Just think, you could spend all the time in the world here writing full-time with mountains, lakes, rivers, and forests at your disposal. Give up the busy life of the city and let your natural rhythm have a chance to find itself. Write to your heart’s content.” “Are you serious?” “I’ve saved up enough money to take care of both of us, and you’ll be financially independent with what you make from your book sales. Give it a shot for a little while and see if it works for you. I promise you’ll be surprised how quickly you can lose yourself in the beauty of the nature around you.” Emily let his words melt into her, hanging on to each word as if it were her life’s essence. Her muse would have plenty of inspiration and maybe she could even write from personal experience rather than fantasy. The daily grind wasn’t her life, it was a routine she’d mistaken for living. It didn’t seem possible to her that a person could detach themselves that far from other people, 24

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but then again, isn’t that what she did every day? Distance herself and keep people at arm’s length? Emily nodded her head. “I’m willing to see if this can work.” “I like the sound of that.” She moved to embrace him but he stopped her. “You need to take it easy. It feels like you have a mild fever and you still need to be careful from the bump on your head. I’m going to have to play doctor here and recommend plenty of the four Rs.” “Rest, relaxation…” She furrowed her brow at him. Where did he get four? “Research and romance.” Heath undressed and slid in next to her. “I see someone has helped me out of my clothes all ready.” “I admit it, but you see, I like you best with me on you.” He kissed her passionately on the lips, resurrecting the flame from their earlier encounter. “Wait, if I’m sick, you shouldn’t kiss me.” “Don’t worry about that. I’m healthy as a horse. Besides, even if I did get sick, we’d have to stay in bed together, keeping each other warm and toasty.” “I never realized someone could make getting sick sound so appealing.” Heath spooned against her body, running his hand down her left thigh and up her buttocks, gently sweeping his fingers between her legs. Emily sighed, exhaling all her air and feeling her body gently relax. So this was what it was like, she thought, being happy and feeling free. His hand moved up her hip and waist, seeking out her breasts. She raised her arms up a little, giving him ease in passage. His fingers manipulated her nipples into submission, 25

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her body heating up quickly. He brought his hand back to her thigh and moved along her skin until he found her sweet spot. Dipping a finger in, her body tensed. “You light my whole body on fire,” she whispered, raising her leg up and resting it on his. He rolled her to her back and lay on his side, bringing her leg up over his shoulder. With her legs spread wide apart, he entered her in an unhurried manner, taunting her like a slow burn. When he was all the way in, they found a rhythm of in and out, their bodies wild and primal, coming together as one. She spread her leg further, wanting him as far up inside her as he could get. Emily tilted her pelvis and rocked, driving her body faster. Her inner muscles gripped and released his shaft every few seconds, adding to the friction. “You feel incredible. I love the way you tighten around me.” The orgasm was close; she could feel it being summoned up. Her body had been deprived of closeness with another person for so long, she couldn’t get enough, and didn’t want the feeling to stop. Heath thrust faster and she knew he was close. His eyes closed tight and he opened his mouth. A long, low moan escaped his lips as his body tightened up. She rode the last moments out and then felt the sweet release. Her muse was going to enjoy her newfound moments of inspiration. Quickly, Heath snuggled up to her, tracing his fingers around her cheekbones, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “How’s that for research?” “I think that will do for now. But as I said, I spend months doing research. So I’d like to start again, first thing in the morning.” He laughed and filled her ears with music. “And here you said you weren’t cut out for this wilderness life.” 26

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“Ah, but I found someone who is worth giving it another try.” “I promise to do my part by making the long winter nights more than worth it.”

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VALENTINE’S DAY by

Jane Leopold Quinn

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February 13 “Val, baby, open your eyes,” Rafe demanded, his voice raspy with lust. She felt him slide her little red satin, heart-shaped pillow under her. Yes. That was just perfect to hike her bottom up, level with his lips. He was so tall, and she wanted to do whatever necessary to aid him in his mission. “God, Rafe, pleeeeze,” she whimpered. All her erotic fantasies coming true, Valentine quivered in anticipation. Stretched out, her bottom balanced on the edge of the bed, her legs tightened around her brother’s best friend’s shoulders, she panted for deliverance. Thankfully, she didn’t have long to wait. Their eyes locked on each other’s, Rafe’s mouth clamped around her clit, and she strained her long legs up and out, widening them to urge him in closer. Val fisted her fingers in his hair and stood her tippy toes on end, pushing herself into his face. Her back arched as fireworks raced from nerve endings in her core, to her nipples, then her brain. “Yes... there...that’s it. Don’t stop that,” she pleaded. “You like this, don’t you?” her voice rising into hysteria. “Mmmmbl.” “Yes…” His tongue speared pointedly, then flattened, then swirled. There was that one spot especially. “Oh, God…there.” She ground her hips and whimpered. 29

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Something else. She needed something else. “Rafe.” She panted his name again and again. Then his thick, long finger slid through the slick wetness and into her sheath. Ohh. That’s it. Another finger speared. And with the rhythmic suction of his lips, the persistent stroking inside her, Val shattered, starting from deep in her belly, radiating through vein and muscle to the tips of the fingers gripping his hair and all the way to her straining toes. Tears poured from the corners of her eyes down to her ears. Violently, she continued pumping her shimmying hips, relishing the aftermath of the humongous orgasm. **** Rafe hung on through Valentine’s every movement, every jerk, shimmy, pulse, every quiver. Damn, but she tastes fine. She sounded even better in her orgasmic throes. Keeping his fingers planted deeply inside her, he released her clit and lapped indulgently at her folds and around her opening. He could feel her internal spasms on his fingers and wanted his cock in there. Right now, as a matter of fact. Rising, he scooted Val up across the bed, stretching her out full length. As he quickly donned a condom, he watched her, still in the aftermath of the orgasm he’d given her. Her creamy, glowing body and sooty black hair contrasted sharply with her red sheets. He would have laughed if he weren’t in pain and didn’t have the great need to pound his cock into her. Anyone else would have red satin sheets. Valentine’s were red flannel. She opened her eyes at that moment. Silver shine, so light against her dark hair. Rafe stretched out over her in push-up position—girl push-up position—with his knees between her thighs. “Come inside me, Rafe,” she growled, low and rough. 30

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She was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. “In a minute.” He fiercely covered her lips with his own. Speared his tongue into her mouth just as he’d speared it around her clit. He felt her fingers in his hair, over his ears, holding him tightly as she suctioned him in. Their tongues tangled in carnal play. He dipped his chest to her breasts and felt the little hard tips tickling through the mat of fur blanketing his pecs. Stiff nipples that he wanted now. Val moaned in complaint when he released her mouth. He gave her one final incendiary kiss, turning it gentle at the last, sipping from her lips. With nips and licks, he worked his way down her long neck, over her collarbone, and onto the generous cushions of her breasts. Jesus. Soft, snowy, cushiony. Tight raspberry nipples that would flush even darker when he was through with them. “Yes,” she sighed. Again, she approved of his activities. Again, he intended to please her. Should he tease her by nibbling, or just lock on and suck? “Oh, God, do it.” “Do what, Val?” He made his voice ingratiating, as if he didn’t know what she wanted. He knew what he wanted. To push her knees apart and thrust his cock as far in as it could go. Restraining his wild need, he gazed directly into her eyes. “What do you want me to do, sweetheart?” “Unh, you know.” She arched her back, thrusting her breasts in his face. Her gem-hard little nipples rasped on his cheek. His voice went low and whispery. “Tell me what you want me to do.” His lips caressed the outer curve of one breast. “Unh…” “Say it.” He lapped a wet path down her center, then nuzzled his nose into the fold under her breast. “Tell…” 31

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Nip. “…me.” Lick. Nip. “Put…your…mouth…on…” She was obviously in shivery agony, her quick breaths joggling his head. “Where?” Rafe’s mouth hovered over a nipple, letting his hot breath bathe her. Letting her anticipate. Torturing himself in the process. “Niii…pllle.” She stretched the word out, a shrill order. With a loud, snorting, flumping sound, Rafe obeyed and engulfed as much of her breast as he could get in his mouth. “Oh, Jesus.” He heard her, knew it was more than she expected, and chuckled inwardly. Then he drew his lips up and suckled her in earnest. Suckle. Swirl. Suckle. Nip. Lap. Her head rolled from side to side. She’d drawn her knees up on either side of his hips and knocked them frantically into him. “Rafe,” she begged. His cock pulsated with his fast heartbeat. Pounded like it would burst out of its skin. Well, it was going to burst, and he had to be inside her when it did. “Nownownow.” She slid her wet crease against his cock, coating it with her cream. Teasing restraint gone, Rafe drove thickly into her hot, slick, tight channel. “Yeah…Val…” he groaned brokenly. Rotated his hips, withdrawing and repeating. God, she felt so good. So tight. Hot. Wet. Oh, shit. He couldn’t wait any longer. With a violent shout, he slammed into her hard. So hard, that he actually pushed her up on the bed. “Yes!” He heard her excitement. It was the last thing he was aware of except his cock. Driven by pistoning hips, Rafe plunged and withdrew frenetically. His brain was gone. There was only cock. And her welcoming hole. 32

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Rafe went on forever. He was king. Could last for hours. Val moaned. He groaned. She squeezed her eyes shut, then they popped open. Wide, her dark pupils dilated, filling the silver. Fluttering little muscles in the depths of her sheath engulfed his cock, wringing it, pumping it. “Yes!” The orgasm hit him hard. “God,” he groaned. Down he collapsed, right on top of her. Exhausted, he became aware of her hands on his butt, fingers digging in, holding him inside her. Oh, yes. “I can’t breathe. I can’t…breathe.” Val’s chest rose and fell jerkily. Rafe rolled off to his side, facing her. “Are you all right?” He traced a finger between her eyebrows and down her nose. Val nodded. Groaned. He then flopped onto his back, one wrist lying limply across his forehead. “God, Ryan is going to kill me.” **** “After what we just did, that’s the first thing you can think of to say to me?” Gee, she’d been hoping for something a little more romantic. He didn’t have to profess his undying love but… “Val, look at me.” She slanted him a peeved look out of the corner of her eye. “That was sooo good. The best.” Her mind whirled. She tried not to admit what seemed to be obvious. That it was only sex to him. Valentine had known Rafe all her life. All twenty-four years. Rafe was best friends with her brother, Ryan. The guys were both four years older than she was and had been friends since kindergarten. Sometimes they let her tag along with them, but by the time they reached fourteen to her ten, that stopped. She’d watched Rafe and Ryan go after girls when they hit their teenage years, 33

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watched them fight over a couple. But, as she grew up, she never stopped wanting Rafe. After college, Ryan came home to work, and Rafe moved out of town. He got married five years ago. Val’s performance had been Oscar winning as she tried to fake it and smile through his wedding and reception. It hurt too much to see the happy couple. Thank God, she’d come home to work and needn’t see him. Now Ryan was married. Just today. Just a few hours ago. So much had happened since then. Val had steeled herself to see Rafe and his wife and was surprised when he arrived alone. Her heart seemed to fill her chest, as usual, at the sight of his six foot two, lean, long-legged body, his thick blonde hair, and especially his eyes. They were the intense blue of a summer sky building up for a storm. She’d always thought he looked like a Viking. Like the kind that Sandra Hill wrote about. At the reception, when the dancing started, Val hid out in the hallway, away from the music and the buzz of conversations. He’d found her. God, he looked gorgeous in a tux. She barely squeaked out the question, “Where’s Sybil?” After five years, she still hurt. She’d think that her heart would have accepted it by now. Rafe looked uncomfortable. He actually blushed right up to his hairline. What is it? She’ll be here soon? She can’t come because they’re going to have a baby? “Ah, we’re divorced.” Val was speechless. “Three months ago.” “Why didn’t Ryan tell me?” “Ryan doesn’t know.” “That can’t be. You’re best friends.” “I didn’t want to ruin Ryan’s wedding plans.” 34

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Ohmygod. At that moment, Val fell irrevocably in love with him. Not puppy love. Not a crush. Serious, real love. He must have felt awful with his marriage breaking up, but his concern was for Ryan’s wedding. They were interrupted. A break in the music, the bandleader’s announcement. It was time for the garter and bouquet tosses. Rafe was urged by the other groomsmen to come in and supervise, but Val hung back. She just couldn’t get her mind around the news. Free. Rafe was free. She could go for it. Her body tensed at the possibility; hope bloomed. Then it plummeted. Of course, Rafe had always treated her like a little sister. Struggling to keep her composure, she really wanted to flee, to race home, bury her face in a pillow, and howl out her grief. Grief for Rafe and his marriage. Grief for her own lost hopes. He would never make a pass at his little sister. The garter business must be done because out he strolled with two champagne flutes. He handed her a goblet, loosened his bow tie, and leaned against the gold flocked wallpaper. Already a little tipsy, maybe he’d be an easy conquest after all. He stood there looking at her for the longest time. Several expressions crossed his face. Sadness. Confusion. Lust. Val’s heart actually stopped at that one. At least it seemed like it stopped for a second or two. Her mouth was dry. She sipped the champagne. Tried to break eye contact. Succeeded for a moment. Stared at his tux shirtfront. But, as if on it’s own marionette string, her chin lifted back up. Lust. It was still there. It’s just the drink. And he’s probably lonely. Probably horny. She snorted, oh, most definitely horny. Val desperately wanted him. Any way she could get him. Would that be right? They could do it and then go their separate ways. They would anyway, even if she didn’t sleep 35

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with him. So, she might as well sleep with him, find out what it’s like, and then she’d know. That is how Valentine ended up in bed with Rafe and had the best orgasm of her life–probably the only orgasm–well, she wasn’t sure–she couldn’t quite remember any other men at the moment. She now knew that she was more in love with her brother’s best friend than she’d ever been. She wasn’t naïve, though; she didn’t count on the feelings being reciprocated. **** Holy fucking shit. Why didn’t I grab this girl a hundred years ago when I had the chance? Rafe lay next to Valentine thinking of all the ways he wanted to make love to her. But what was he thinking? Screwing Ryan’s little sister. Not so little now. Grown up and beautiful. And a body that just thinking about had his cock rising to attention. When he’d found her out in the hallway, she’d looked lost. He knew she liked Ryan’s wife, but maybe she felt left out. Left behind like the boys tried to do when they were kids. He and Ryan were always tricking her one way so they could go off in another direction without her. Then she’d asked the question. He’d fobbed everyone else off, even Ryan, who wondered where his wife was. He knew she’d always had a crush on him, but her silver gray eyes opened to her soul, and he couldn’t lie to her. Rafe expected to see her at the bouquet toss and was surprised that she wasn’t there. Thoughts of his ex plagued him before the ceremony, sadness at the failure of the marriage. But the sight of Val coming down the aisle, her hair like a crown on top of her head, soft waves framing her flushed cheeks, put other ideas into his head. She already likes me, he rationalized. After the garter toss, he thought that bringing champagne out to her would look like a romantic 36

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gesture. He hadn’t been with another woman since way before the divorce. He could see how the land lay and decide whether to pursue her. That’s if she wanted to be pursued. Her wedding hairdo now floated down around her shoulders. Strands stood out like they were wired with electricity. Was it still soft? He’d tousled her little girl’s head back in the day, and her hair always felt light as silk. Rafe caught her gaze, leaned casually against the wall, and raised one hand to wrap a curly strand around his finger. God. Soft didn’t even begin to describe it. “Mm.” He felt heat kindling low in his belly, felt his cock swelling. Her eyes shifted to the hallway. Rafe’s followed. They were alone. Here was his opportunity. Drifting his forefinger along her jaw, back to tangle in her hair, he moved closer until his tux lapels met the top of her bridesmaid dress. Hurry, someone might come out. He stared down into her cleavage. Puffs of voluptuous flesh spilled out the top of the dress. God, he didn’t realize she had such spectacular breasts. He dipped his head and brushed her lips, pulling her toward him with his hand around her nape. She came willingly. So willingly that he lost his head and plunged his tongue in her mouth. His groan vibrated both their faces. Val was right there with him, tongue for tongue, groan for groan. She slipped her hands inside his jacket and hooked them on his belt. In the dim recesses of his brain, he heard the absence of music. He had to get her out of here before they were caught. She was the only one who knew he was divorced, and Rafe had the presence of mind to not want people to think Valentine was fooling around with a married man. Ryan would kill him.

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But Rafe, looking down into those light eyes of hers and holding her soft, luscious body, had a feeling that going with Val would be worth any punishment Ryan could dish out. And that’s how Rafe ended up in Valentine’s bed having the best sex of his life. “Ryan doesn’t have to know anything about this. No one needs to know.” Val lay on her back, head turned toward him. God, she was spectacular. Rafe had watched her grow up, had seen her develop. He’d always liked her. Knew she had a crush on him. What he hadn’t known until tonight was how much he must have always wanted her. When Rafe and Ryan had gone away to college, he’d put thoughts of Val on the back burner. Then he’d met and married Sybil. They tried to make it work, but there was no real passion. She resembled Val. Maybe that was it. Rafe put these depressing musings on another back burner and climbed out of bed. “Oh.” He turned back to Val. Her eyes were full of hurt. He couldn’t stand to see her like that, like he disappointed her. “I’m certainly not going to tell him, Rafe,” she said defensively. Damn, I’m sorry I mentioned Ryan. “Let me get rid of this, honey.” He’d brushed the condom off his cock and held the wet mass gingerly in one hand. “Do you have any more?” “Yeah.” Oh, Christ. Thank God. When Rafe returned to the bedroom, he was treated to the sight of Valentine lying naked with a box of condoms balanced on her belly. “Oh, baby, you are the answer to a guy’s prayers,” he groaned the words as he plucked the box off, put it on the bedside table, and drew one out. 38

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Before he could make his move, Val sat up, her expression intent, straddled his waist, and pushed him down on the bed by the shoulders. Then she just held him there. As if he couldn’t break her hold. As if he wanted to. “It’s just you and me, buster. I’ve been waiting long enough for this, and I intend to take my time and enjoy you.” She caressed his shoulders, then smoothed down over his biceps, his forearms. He started to reach for her, but she shut that down. “No,” she whispered reverently. “I just want to look at you. Touch you.” With that, she trailed her fingers back up his arms, fingers light as feathers, tracing the veins and ridges of muscles. He felt his chest, then his face, heat up. Felt his cock stir and blew out a, “Whew.” “I used to watch you at the pool. I lusted after you all those years. Wanted to feel your hard chest against mine.” “Yours sure isn’t hard, sweetheart.” He started to lift his hands to touch her, his lips lifted on one side at his joke. “No, not yet. I’m not at all finished with you.” “You’re so strict,” he huffed as he dropped his arms obediently. His chest rose and fell in short, sharp movements, his body stiff with anticipation. He’d let her play, then he’d fuck her. There was no question how this would turn out. **** Valentine couldn’t believe that her wildest fantasies were coming true. She had every intention of making the most of it. Undoubtedly, when the night was over, he’d be so upset worrying that Ryan would be angry that he’d be gone licketysplit. Val intended to get the lick-ety in while she had him lying, buck naked, in her bed. “You are so beautiful,” she purred, hands mapping his chest for her memory bank when he was gone. “I’ve always 39

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wondered what this felt like.” Her fingers slid through the short, curly hairs crossing from one male nipple to the next. Rafe twitched when she flicked her fingernails over them. Val heard his quick intake of breath and knew that she was turning him on. Yay! She took her cue from the glazed look on his face and dipped her head. She licked, wetly circling the deep brown skin until the center tip poked up. “Mm…so good.” He tasted of clean skin with a dash of salt. And of Rafe. Val latched onto the tiny peak and suckled. She swirled the tip with her tongue, rocked it between her front teeth. His groan let her know she was on the right track. Urgency drove her; she couldn’t rid herself of the notion that he’d be gone soon. She backed down his thighs to his knees, lapping and nipping her way down his chest, his belly, and the trail of darkening hair to the shaft quickly lengthening and hardening as she bent closer. His hips thrust toward her chest, his agonized groan as he exhaled her name excited her. Arching over him, she gently held his penis up and took his balls completely in her mouth. “God.” Angling her head, she suctioned and delicately laved, wetting them with her saliva. Blood thundered through her veins, her ears, and she dimly heard his supplications. Barely felt the vibration of his body, the surges of his restless thighs. All she knew was the warm, musky scent of him. To finally be with Rafe, to hold him, to have her mouth on him was heaven. The answer to her adolescent prayers. He bucked, thrusting his cock at her face. The hot, velvety-skinned hardness, long and thick, drew her lips. “Val…” She heard that. It was a warning, a plea. His fingers speared through her hair, attempting to control her 40

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movements. That wouldn’t work. She’d already dragged her tongue from the base to the tip. To the broad, round head. Her lips felt the heavy throb of a vein along the underside. She closed her fist around the base as she dined on the ridge around the head, teasing, sliding her tongue through the slit at the very tip, collecting his essence, the drop of fluid slipping out. Peeping up at his face, all she could see was his chin tipped back, the muscles on the sides of his neck distended as if in torture. Letting her mouth fill with moisture, she slowly lowered it over his cock, swirling her tongue up and around, suctioning, licking, beginning a rhythm of massaging her hand up at the same time her mouth came down. She sobbed, felt her vagina liquefy, hot and open, felt her heart thumping, her throat humming. All she wanted was to bring Rafe to climax. To make him happy so that he’d never forget her. “Oh, God.” He half rose on one hip. “Christ…I’m com…” To the end, through every surge, every swallow, Val held on, pillowing him in the hot recesses of her mouth. Held on until his fingers at the corners of her jaw teased her mouth open. Strong arms pulled her up, chest against chest, belly against belly, and urged her head onto his shoulder. They both fell asleep, thanks to total, unutterable exhaustion.

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February 14 Rafe filled the coffeepot with water and grounds. Standing at the counter, clad only in a towel wrapped around his waist, he wished he was in the shower right this minute with Val. God, but she’d kept him busy last night. They’d made a huge dent in the box of condoms. He didn’t want to think about the other guys she’d slept with, didn’t want to know why she had a box full, but he was glad she did. He braced himself with both hands on the counter and focused on the coffee dripping into the pot. If someone asked him what was on his mind, he couldn’t say. After having his own crush on her for years, being with her now was better than he ever hoped for. “Whatcha looking for? The answer to the meaning of life?” Small but determined hands caressed his hips, around his waist, playing with where the towel was tucked in. He placed a hand over hers at the same time he felt her silk clad body lean against his back. He was so ready to start in again. What made him think that one night with Val would be enough? Val slid her palms up over his belly and hugged his back against her chest. “Rafe, I’m truly sorry about you and Sybil.” His jaw tensed, muscles tightened. “We tried to make it work. We even went to counseling.” “Was there someone else?” Her question was hesitant as if she knew she didn’t have the right to ask. 42

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“No,” he blew out a sarcastic chuckle. Not until I saw you again. Maybe it was always you. So much came clear to Rafe now. For Ryan’s sake, he’d always considered Val his own little sister. A sister he’d sometimes had hot fantasies about. “Well, at least you didn’t have kids to hurt in this.” “Yeah, that would have really made a mess,” he agreed. “We talked about it though. Thought maybe it would save us, but I guess once the doubts started in, neither of us wanted to risk it.” He felt Val release him, missed the warmth of her voluptuous, silky front against his bare back. She opened cupboards, removed coffee mugs, took half-and-half from the refrigerator, brought spoons, paper napkins and set everything on the little round kitchen table. A bay window looked out over a pretty, snow-covered park, and as cold as it looked out there, it was warm and cozy inside with Val. “How long since you actually split? I’m so amazed that you didn’t tell Ryan.” Val leaned both elbows on the table and sipped, watching him over the brim of her cup. God, she was stunning. Fresh from a shower, face bare of makeup, hair piled on top of her head with one of those plastic claws, she looked like the young twenty-four year old that she was. Rafe, on the other hand, felt every one of his twenty-eight years. Oh, he knew that he wasn’t ancient, but he’d already failed at marriage. What did he have to offer Val? Jesus. He had no idea he was even thinking along that line. But she was talking, and he wasn’t listening. “Hunh?” “…didn’t you at least tell Ryan?” “And give him more to worry about? I didn’t want him to doubt that he and Tif would last. They’re so perfect for each other.” 43

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Val laughed. “Yes, they are, aren’t they?” Then she sobered. “But it must have been painful to go through all that alone.” Rafe had enough of discussing his miserable failure at marriage, and he didn’t want thoughts of Syb to intrude on what was going on with Val. “Look at those kids.” He indicated the park’s large expanse of clean, fresh snow and hoped that she’d take the hint to change the subject. He could feel her gaze on him and her tension until she seemed to decide to follow his lead. “Yeah,” she rested her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. “We were young once.” Rafe wasn’t blind to Val’s discomfort, and he didn’t like it. They’d been so close, as close as two people could be. I’ve been inside her. A shiver rolled through him. A pleasurable shiver. Where he was right now with Val, both emotionally and physically, was where his wildest fantasies had hardly dared take him. As she got older, once in a while, he’d let it go and imagine himself with her. Yes, he’d felt guilty and sometimes could hardly meet her gaze if they ran into each other when he was home from college. Now that he knew, and he’d actually had her, the reality was a million times better than any of his youthful imaginings. “Val.” He swiveled in the little café chair until his thighs were no longer under the table and patted his lap. “Come here, sweetheart.” Her cheeks pinked up, and she tried to hide a smile. “Come on. Sit on daddy’s lap,” he cajoled. “Why, Daddy, that sounds kind of kinky.” “It is, and get your butt over here.” He held out his hands. “Come on,” he repeated. “I want to touch you.” With a silly little giggle, Val slipped around the table and surprised him by straddling his lap. Her robe fell open. She 44

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didn’t have anything on underneath. No panties. No nothing. His breath hitched. The position opened her up, and the puff of dark hair on her mound pressed over the towel covering his rapidly enlarging erection. He could lay her back on the table and eat her. Why not? “Rafe, you feel so good.” She brushed her lips over his cheeks and eyebrows, stretching up to do so. He growled as he pushed the silky material away from her breasts so it caught on her shoulders. He drew his palms around to cup her breasts. The heated huff of her moan bathed his cheek. He turned a fraction and covered her lips with his at the same time he gently pinched her nipples between thumb and forefinger. Her mouth fell open in her excitement, and, as much as he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to eat her even more. Changing tactics, Rafe picked her up under her arms and draped her back over the table. Placing her heels onto the table edge, spreading her thighs, he pushed his chair back. “Oh, baby, you look so good.” “Rafe…we can go to the bedroom…oh, God.” “Don’t want to. Hang on.” He teased her with kisses and nips on her thigh, sliding his lips close to her core, then away toward her knee. “But…” He trailed his fingers through her crease. She was so wet. So pink. Her clit so red and stiff. “Oh…” Both forefingers slid along the sides of her sensitive little nub. Her hips jerked. “Unh…” 45

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He teased the underside with one finger and rimmed the opening to her body with the other. Her hips pumped. He slid his finger just inside. Swirled it. Came back out. “God…” She liked that. He glanced up at her, her head tossed on the table, she gripped the edge until her knuckles were white, her toes curled under in tension. He flexed his finger just inside, back out, over and over. Played with her clit until she squealed his name and begged him for more. “Oh, Val, baby.” He slid one finger completely in. “Yes…oh God…oh, Rafe…” Another finger joined in, and he lowered his lips to her clit. His controlled, gentle suckle brought out a breathy shriek from her and a low, humming groan from him. Knock, knock. Neither heard it. **** Without conscious thought, Val pumped her hips into Rafe’s face. The man was magic with his tongue. As lurid as her dreams had been over the years, they’d been nothing compared to the reality. Undignified position or not, she wanted all of Rafe she could get before this was over. One hand released the table edge and gripped his hair, twining the strands through curved fingers. Close. She was so close. He filled her, she was spread so wide by the three fingers inside her, not just sliding in and out, but twitching and twisting, caressing deep in her sheath with knobby knuckles and insistent finger pads. His mouth on her clit, God, she wanted to savor the feelings for long after he was gone. There was no way to describe it, though. The slow, sure suctioning. The rhythmic 46

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spear of his tongue on the underside. The heat in her quivery thighs. “Rafe, Rafe,” she chanted softly, enjoying, reveling in his ministrations. Knock, knock. She knew something was wrong, knew something was about to be very wrong. In the quiet of the straining for release and the slurping of mouth on creamy tissues, she actually heard the key in the front door as if the clicking was magnified. Rafe froze, his lips clamped tightly around her clit. He’d heard it, too. Before she could scramble off the table, she knew. Only one other person had a key to her place. “Ryan!” she exclaimed, her voice a horrified, breathy whisper. Rafe jumped, knocking over the chair. “Val?” That came from the front room. Rafe pulled her off the table, yanked the robe back up over her shoulders and tucked it around her. She held it closed with shaking hands. Where the hell is the sash? He scrambled to make sure his towel was secure around his waist just as Ryan and Tiffany strolled into the kitchen. “Val, you didn’t answer. We didn’t think you were…” Ryan stopped, mouth wide in shock. Tiffany, stood behind him. “Oh my God,” she said with a startled look on her face. Val thought they almost looked comical. She, on the other hand, was mortified. “Rafe!” “Oh, shit.” “You bet, oh, shit,” Ryan barked as he bolted toward Rafe. “You fucking bastard!” 47

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Before anyone knew what he was doing and could stop him, Ryan pulled his arm back and slugged Rafe right smack in the nose. “No, Ryan.” “Ow, damn you.” Rafe staggered back against the counter, clutching at his nose with one hand and the towel with the other. Ryan made another move toward Rafe, drawing back his fist to hit lower. “Ryan! Stop!” “Stay out of this, Val. Rafe, you’re married. What the fuck are you doing with Val? I’ll kill you!” “No, Ryan, it’s all right.” “The hell it is. I know you’ve always had a crush on him, but he’s married…” “No, he’s not.” “What do you mean? You know better than that. He’ll say anything to get you into bed. Goddamn you, Rafe. I never thought you’d sink so low.” Val planted herself firmly between the two men. The two best friends from childhood. She hated seeing this. They’d had fights, arguments over the years, but she doubted they’d ever resorted to fisticuffs. She didn’t want to be the cause of it either. “Get out of the way, Val,” Ryan snarled. “Don’t hide behind a woman, you son of a bitch.” Ryan made a move to poke at Rafe around her. Suddenly, Rafe picked Val straight up and deposited her behind him. “Ryan, I’m divorced.” “When, you bastard? You weren’t when I talked to you three weeks ago.” “Yes, I was.” Ryan looked stricken. “But you didn’t say anything.” 48

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“Unh unh.” “Why?” “I wasn’t going to have you worrying about me. You had a wedding to plan.” “Oh, man, I’m sorry.” Val’s gaze shifted from one to the other. How quickly their belligerence disappeared. “Hey, don’t worry about it, Rye.” Rafe took Ryan’s extended hand, and they looked like schoolboys shaking hands on the playground after a fight. Val collected herself and finally asked, “Rye,” she repeated Rafe’s pronunciation sarcastically. “What are you two doing here? Don’t you have a plane to catch?” Tiffany, who up to now had looked horrified, then amused, finally found her voice. “Val, we wanted to leave the checks we got as wedding presents with you to deposit. So we decided to stop here on the way to the airport. And now we’re going to be late if we don’t hurry. Will you deposit them for us? I have the slip made out, and they’ve been endorsed.” Val slid her arm through Tiffany’s, hugged her, and said, “Of course. Now get going, you two. As you can see, everything’s all right here.” “Later,” was Ryan’s last word to Rafe. Ryan’s expression was wary, but he wasn’t mad anymore. “Okay, we’d better go. Val, honey, be careful,” Ryan whispered to his sister. “Yeah,” he forestalled her opening her mouth. “He’s free, but still, take care. I don’t want you hurt.” “I’ll be all right. Just please go and have a good honeymoon.” In a flurry of hugs, kisses, and waves, Ryan and Tif were off, and Val and Rafe were alone again. “Holy shit!” 49

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“Oh, my God!” Val added. **** Their gazes connected, arousal overriding the embarrassment of the past few minutes. Rafe gingerly brushed his cut lip, looking at the spot of blood on his fingers. So much for trying to save his feelings. I got slugged for my efforts. He let Val daub at it, even slipped an arm around her waist to pull her in close. Not having come down from his sensual high before the interruption, the adrenalin from the fight made him ready again. Her sweet body beneath the thin, slick silk was warm and shivery. “Are you okay, honey?” She clung to him, her fingers slowly dabbing at his lip, her other hand going around his waist to hook into the top of the towel. “I’m so embarrassed.” She gave a half laugh, slid her arm around his neck. “My God, caught that way, practically naked, by my brother. Ugh.” She plopped her forehead on his chest and rolled it back and forth. “I’m sorry, Val.” “Well, it’s not your fault. They shouldn’t have just come in like that.” He felt her fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck, slide up into his hair. Rafe kissed her forehead, her closed eyelids, urged her chin up with his thumb. She brushed his cut lip again, he licked her finger, sucked it into his mouth. The hitch in her breath arched her into his chest, her breasts flattening against him. “Mm,” he murmured around her finger. Her light eyes darkened, and her lips parted. The phone rang. She jumped at the shrill sound, yanking her finger from his mouth. 50

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“Don’t answer it, baby. Let the machine get it,” Rafe whispered as his fingers speared through her inky, tumbled hair to cup her head. Click. “Val,” it was Ryan’s voice, damn him. “Tell Rafe I’ll kick his ass if he hurts you. Friends or not.” “Come on, Rye. Leave them alone.” Tiffany’s voice in the background. “You heard me.” Ryan again. Click. “Well, that’s a mood breaker for sure.” Rafe’s lips were poised inches from hers. “Mm.” Val sighed. “Listen, let’s go back to my hotel so I can change.” Then he mock leered and winked at her. **** Val was ecstatic that he didn’t seem to want to ditch her. She sure wasn’t ready for this to end. Val and Rafe barely closed the door to his hotel room, before their hands were all over each other with clothing tossed wherever it landed—floor, chair, dresser. With a big, “Umph,” Val landed on her back stretched across the bed, Rafe down right on top of her. “Rafe, your message light is on.” “Screw it.” He attacked her ear lobe, suckled it, tickled her neck with a pointed tongue. “But it might be important.” It’s the first thing Val checked when she got to work or home. She could not let a message go unheard. “Forget it. It’s probably just Rye calling again to threaten me.” He filled his hand with her breast, thumbed the nipple, leaned over to suckle it into his mouth. 51

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“Oh, Rafe, I can’t relax with that blinking. Please listen to it.” “Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Frustrated, Rafe leaned over, flicked on the speakerphone and dialed the code for messages. “Ah, Rafe, it’s me.” A woman. Val froze. “Could we talk when you get back?” She wants to talk. Oh, God, it’s his ex-wife. “I’m afraid we made a mistake. I’d like to try to work things out.” Val became aware that Rafe’s big, hard, hot body was no longer poised over her. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands on spread knees, head hanging down. “Please ca…” “Son of a bitch.” He punched off the speakerphone with an angry jab. “God dammit.” Val barely breathed waiting to see what he’d do next. Oh, how she wished it had been Ryan. His threat wouldn’t have been as devastating as this was. It seemed Rafe had forgotten she was there. He stared toward the window. Just stared and breathed heavily. Despair hit her. She knew this was too good to last. She had loved him forever. Had wanted him since she was old enough to have hormones and know what that meant. If all she’d have would be last night, then that would be better than nothing. Oh, God. Nothing. Her head felt wrapped in cotton. She couldn’t think, couldn’t plan, couldn’t act. Why had she made him listen? She could have had more time with him. Even as Val’s heart broke, she realized that the right thing to do would be for him to talk to his ex and get back together. Marriage should be for life, and people should work out their problems. 52

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Damn the right thing! Rafe stood, strode heavily over to the window. Luckily, they were on a high floor because he was naked. She fed her senses with his beautiful body. Never wanted to forget his tight butt, or the sweet curve of butt into the back of his thigh. Her mouth watered remembering how she’d bitten that butt last night. Pain seeped in. No. She didn’t want pain. She wanted the cotton-covered feeling. She’d better say something and get out of here before she made a fool of herself and became hysterical. “Um, Rafe,” she said in a little voice. “Maybe you’d better call her.” “No.” He batted his hand in the air but didn’t turn around. How she wanted to comfort him, but one touch and she’d fall apart. “You should.” She hoped she sounded more confident and composed than she felt. Val started slipping on her clothing; each piece on was another piece out of her heart. He shook his head. His shoulders looked so rigid and tight. Okay, here comes my big important, selfless speech. “Rafe, what happened between us last night was the most precious experience I’ve ever had. I…um…” Oh God, she almost told him she loved him. She didn’t want to put that burden on him. “You should call her. Give it another…” She almost choked. “…chance.” Rafe turned. Val was shocked at the vacant, murky color his eyes had become. The cut on his lip stood out sharply against the stark whiteness of his face. Her heart thundering in her ears, Val looked her fill from his long, narrow feet, up to his strong, muscular thighs. Her 53

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lips parted when she got to his sex, the nest of hair, much darker than his head, surrounding his penis. It stirred at her concentration. Oh God. Goodbye, my love. She wanted to kneel in front of him and cuddle his sensitive balls in her palm, suck his soft cock into her mouth, play her tongue around the tip and along its length. Make it hard. Make it ache for her. Make him ready to fuck her again. “Val.” He took a step toward her. Somehow, that action burst her sensual bubble, and she snapped back to reality. Shit. “Rafe, you have to try again to make it work. To be sure.” “But, you…” “This was just a one night thing.” Her heart was definitely in pieces. “We both knew that’s all it was. Nothing serious. We’ve just known each other forever and were bound to be curious. “And now we’ve done it and don’t need to wonder any more.” Val knew she was babbling, but it was either babble or shriek out her pain. He stood like a mannequin, sculpted and beautiful, perfect body, perfect face. Val knew she’d never love another man half as much. “I’d better go. It was nice seeing…you again.” Her brain was on Miss Manners’ autopilot. Time stretched as they stared at each other. His face was tight, not giving anything away, eyes hard, their amazing stormy blue glittering again. Go before you crack. “Bye, Rafe,” she said softly. Any louder and her voice would squeak the words. Val practically ran to the elevator, impatiently jabbed the down button, and was eternally grateful it was empty. Okay, now I know how wonderful he is. She almost doubled over with the pain of loss. 54

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**** Rafe’s hand was poised to knock. He had no idea if she was home but vowed to stay there until she showed up. What had he been thinking? How could he have done this to her? After all they’d shared, their time together, he owed it to both of them. A one-night stand wasn’t going to ruin what they had. He knocked. He’d always loved her. It was clear now. “Who’s there?” She knew. She was looking through the peephole. “It’s me.” Sure, at first he’d loved her like a sister. She’d been a kid, for God’s sake. “Why are you here?” “You know.” But she’s not a kid now. She’s grown up and stunning. “Please open the door so we can talk, Val.” Sweet and loving. “No.” Irritating and stubborn? “You can say goodbye from there.” Definitely dense. “I love you, Val.” He held up a huge bouquet of flowers replacing his face in the peephole. “Don’t make me propose through a closed door. We both know this wasn’t a one-night stand.” The door opened, and Val threw herself into his arms. He swept the flowers around her back and held on for dear life. Burying his face against her wild mane, he whispered, “I love you, Val. God knows, I’ve always loved you.” “But your wife?” Her voice was muffled, her face tight against his neck, her body quivering. Rafe edged her back into her apartment and kicked the door closed. Dropping the flowers on the floor, he pulled her 55

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tightly into his arms. Just hugged her. “I called her, honey.” Val’s fingers clutched his shoulders convulsively. “Sweetheart, I’m here because I love you.” Doesn’t she understand that? “But…” “We had a long talk. We both knew it wasn’t working, but it’s natural to have doubts about the doubts. Believe me, we tried. Several times. It’s over. “And seeing you again…and…last night and all…made me realize how I feel about you.” Finally, Val’s shivers eased, her fingers clutched, but not convulsively, her soft breath warmly bathed his neck. Rafe fished in the pocket of his jacket. “Will you marry me, Val?” He proffered a little blue velvet box, held it up under her nose so that she couldn’t miss it. “Oh God, Rafe, is this really happening?” He laughed. “Yes, love. Will you?” He opened the box. “How did you get a ring so fast? It’s Sunday.” “Baby, it’s Valentine’s Day. Every jeweler is open. Now, do you want it?” He had a moment of real fear. What if all she felt for him was a crush after all? Val plucked the platinum band, two carat emerald cut diamond out of the box. He took it from her and slipped it on her finger. “How did you know the size? It fits perfectly.” He held her hand up so he could see the ring. “You’d be surprised what strange men do in your apartment in the middle of the night.” He kissed the ring. “Between going to the john to get rid of the condoms, I tried on your rings.” “But you didn’t know you wanted…to…marry me.” “I think I knew all along. I just tried them on and stored the knowledge away.” He tapped her nose to get her attention. “Do you want me to get down on one knee?” 56

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Val giggled. “You know, I think I do.” She beamed at him, then sobered as he knelt. He held her hand, kissed her fingertips one by one, turned her palm up, kissed it. “Now, for the third time…will you marry me?” **** Val decided to put Rafe out of his misery because any more delay meant misery for her, too. “Oh God, Rafe, I love you. I will absolutely, joyfully, deliriously, happily marry you.” She knelt in front of him and brushed her fingers over his cut lip. “I can still kiss,” he whispered. “I would hope so!” And she threw herself in his arms.

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ABOUT THE AUTHORS Erotic romance author Ann Cory invites you to sample her literary offerings in the hopes of leaving you with an acquired taste for sophisticated reading. Visit her website at http://www.anncory.com to see what else is on the menu. Sensual fantasies have always found a home with Jane Leopold Quinn. Now she’s writing them. Joining Romance Writers of America and Passionate Ink introduced her to other romance writers and helped hone her craft of erotic romance that has become her passion and her niche in life. She loves the creative process and is constantly, madly writing and revising the “next great book.” Jane lives in Chicago with her loving, supportive husband. Please visit her at www.janeleopoldquinn.com for information about her Whiskey Creek Press Torrid book, Ancient Ties, a time travel to Roman Britain. Ancient Ties reached Number 1 on the Whiskey Creek Torrid’s best seller list in January 2006.

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