Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Butterfly's Effects/Jewels of Desire (Binary Stars 6) by Michelle Houston and D. Musgrave

Elaine stepped lightly through the open elevator doors and worked hard on keeping her steps steady. During the long ride up to the fourteenth floor, she pressed against the side wall, pinned in place by a group of lawyers from the offices just a few floors up, and her own co-workers. With her still-stinging ass brushing against the wall, and with each lurch and sway of the elevator car as they stopped on every damned floor, she was ready to scream by the time the doors slid open.


Ass tingling, she no sooner managed to settle in her chair than a brief knock preceded her assistant. “Today you’ve got a pretty light schedule. Baker at nine-thirty, Martin and Addams at eleven. You have a staff meeting at eleven forty-five, and then after lunch you’ve got a board meeting. Then Mills wants to see you about that whole marketing fiasco from last week.”

As Steve paced about the room, briefing her on the messages she needed to personally attend and the various details that needed her oversight, she watched him. She savored the flex of his muscles under his dress shirt and slacks, the way his ass cheeks clenched tighter when he turned on his heel to come back toward her. This was the moment she loved: the frontal view of his cock outlined in subtle display by his tailored pants.

When she noticed he had stopped moving and talking, she jerked her gaze up to his face. A slight smile curled his lips, which was her only warning. Moments later, a faint tingling started in her pussy as the butterfly strapped against her clit buzzed to life. Clenching her teeth, she held back a moan as her pussy throbbed and clamored for release.

Almost as suddenly as it flipped on, it turned off, and Steve went back to listing her itinerary.

Elaine wanted to bite his head off for torturing her, but she secretly thrilled in it. Not that she would ever admit it out loud—at least, not in the office. When her affair with Steve began almost a year before, they had gone from being co-workers and best friends of almost ten years to lovers, then Dom/sub. He knew the unspoken rules, that at the office she was in charge. In fact, he seemed to revel in it, letting her boss him around and deal with the day to day crap.

Alone together in the evenings, he stripped the trappings of the corporate world from her piece by piece, and showed her who was truly in charge. And she loved it.

“Also, your doctor called. She said to tell you whatever you have been doing, keep it up. Your blood pressure is down to very nice levels, and your cholesterol has truly done a turn-around.”

Elaine managed to clench her hands around the arms of her chair in time, before the faint buzzing started in her groin again. Riding the waves, she tipped back in her chair, very aware that Steve wasn’t going to let her get anywhere near an orgasm.

As the butterfly clicked off again, she couldn’t stop herself from gasping out, “Good.”

“She did express curiosity as to what had changed, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her. The poor woman would probably have had a heart attack.”

“Ha!” Elaine managed to restrain the unladylike snort that wanted to follow. “You don’t know the old battle-axe. She’d probably kidnap you and keep you chained up in her bedroom if she knew.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed and Elaine took a deep breath, expecting the buzzing to start up again. Instead, he turned on his heel and exited the office, the door closing behind him with a firm snap.

Glancing at the clock, she decided to turn her attention to the current business at hand. She had several pages of background information to wade through before Baker showed up.

It took some arguing and biting her tongue, but Elaine had almost gotten Baker to understand that some things just take time when her intercom buzzed. Picking up the phone, she asked, “Yes?”

“You’re almost fifteen minutes behind schedule and Martin’s getting impatient.”

“Thank you for letting me know.” Without any further fanfare, she hung up the phone knowing Steve wouldn’t take it as a slight. He had worked with her long enough to expect a certain curtness when she was dealing with a pompous jackass like Baker.

Another five minutes passed, and she was just about to slam her hand on her desk when a faint buzzing started between her legs. Gasping, she rocked forward and tried to get Baker out of her office. She could feel her clit tingling with each pulse, and her nerves were already on edge from trying to get a man used to his own way to see that she couldn’t work miracles.

As the butterfly picked up its pace, she gave up and went direct. “Mr. Baker, I truly am sorry that you feel that way. I wish I could make things happen at a faster pace, but unfortunately I can’t. Now, I hate to be rude, but I have another meeting waiting and we’ve been at this for two hours now. Nothing has changed from when you walked in. The art department takes time to put things together.”

He grumbled, but when she walked as smoothly as she could to her office door, he followed. As soon as she swung her door open, the butterfly stopped. Pausing to glare as Steve, she motioned her other clients into her office.

After that, one meeting flowed into the other, and she found herself sitting at her desk, starving, when the last meeting concluded.

A quick look at her watch showed that lunch time had actually come and gone, and the meeting with the entire staff was only thirty minutes away when she finally managed to get off the phone with a client who insisted she speak to her. As she hung up, the door to her office swung open again.

Steve came in carrying a take-out bag. She didn’t know which she wanted more--him, or the food. When he set it down on her desk and opened it to reveal a sandwich from her favorite deli, she had her answer. Stomach growling, she greedily reached for the food, mumbling a thank you as she opened the wrapper and started devouring it.

A look of amusement painted Steve’s face, rather than displeasure at her rudeness. Smiling, he sat down in the chair opposite her and watched her eat, his gaze trailing over her. First, they lingered on her lips as she wrapped them around the straw and took a quick drink of her soda. His stare moved down to her breasts, causing her nipples to harden. Aware of his heated gaze, she tried to focus her attention on the file in front of her, needing to concentrate before she begged him to fuck her senseless.

All throughout the day, he had been playing with the wireless remote, randomly turning on the butterfly just long enough to arouse her, then switching it off. She had almost lost her composure when it had flipped on during her meeting with Martin and Addams, but thankfully both men were so wrapped up in their complaints that hadn’t noticed the uncontrollable flush of her skin and the faint changes to her voice, or any other hints of anything untoward going on.

Now that she had a few moments to eat, she was going to take advantage of the reprieve to her pussy. No way was he going to risk her choking by playing with his little remote. Instead, he waged a silent and almost more deadly war--he was playing with her head.

His eyes, so vibrant and blue, watched each inhalation. His complete attention focused on her.

“Ellie,” he whispered, the sound breaking the silence in the room.

She took the last bite of her sandwich, needing the moment to calm her racing pulse before answering him. “Yes?”

“I really think that you need to step into the bathroom.” As he stood, she could see the tent his erection made in his slacks. Mesmerized, she watched as he stroked a hand down the front of the material, stroking along the edge of his cock.

Looking up, her gaze caught on his, and she found herself helpless to resist. It was a dangerous game they were playing, him pushing her past her comfort level, blending their personal life with their professional one, until she really couldn’t see the divide anymore. The line was blurring, and she was helpless to stop it.

Steve seemed determined that she was going to accept his proposal, and she was growing weaker each day. She wanted to be able to shout from the rooftops of her love for him, but she worried about the implications at work. So, Steve had decided to show her that it wouldn’t adversely affect either of their careers.

Legs trembling, she pushed back her chair and stood, moving into the bathroom on autopilot. Steve followed close behind, and shut the door with a soft click. As soon as he threw the lock, Elaine felt the change in herself. Breathless, she waited, no longer in control. If she ever had been in the first place. Maybe it had all been an illusion.

“Lift up your skirt.”

Monday, August 16, 2010

Law and Ardor by Jack Greene

“We have a possible 62R in progress.” The dispatcher’s voice crackled over the radio, and she gave the address of the home burglary.


Officer James Madison grabbed the handset. “Unit 30 here. I’m real close, I’ll get over there.”

The neighborhood was situated near the university and usually quiet this time of year; most students had gone for the summer. He was on his own tonight, and he accelerated toward the destination.

He kept his eyes peeled for any suspicious activity as he approached. He double-checked the address as he pulled up to a no-parking zone in front of the building. He radioed his location in before getting out. The building looked like a single house that had been subdivided into apartments. He headed for the front door, but before he could knock it swung open. He braced himself, his hand near his gun, but the person inside was definitely no threat.

“Oh, thank God you got here!”

The boy looked no older than twenty, and despite the cool weather he wore only tiny black briefs. He was slender and pale—not quite skinny, but it was clear he hadn’t done much working out. His dark brown hair currently stuck up in every direction, and his eyes widened.

“Were you the one who called 911?” James asked, trying not to appear too threatening. The poor boy looked scared to death.

“Yes! Did you see him?” he demanded.

“See who?”

“The guy! The guy who was in my apartment!” The boy’s teeth began to chatter.

“I didn’t see anyone. Look, why don’t you get inside and I’ll take a look around, okay?” James tried for a soothing tone.

The boy shook his head. “No, don’t wanna be alone. He was right in my fucking bedroom!” James could recognize the rising note of hysteria in the boy’s voice.

“Okay, okay. You can come, just stay back in case we see someone.” After a moment’s thought, he shrugged off his jacket and held it out to the boy. “Wear this.”

The boy’s eyes widened even more, and James felt his gaze on him for the first time. “Oh, I can’t, you’ll be cold...”

“No, I’ll be fine. You, on the other hand, are going to catch pneumonia like that.” James’s tone brooked no resistance.

“Okay.” The boy accepted the coat and tried to put it on, but his hands shook too badly.

After watching for a moment, James stepped closer. “Let me,” he said, moving behind him to help him slip the coat on. It was far too big for the young man, but at least it would keep him warm. “Better?” he asked as he walked back in front of him.

“Mmm, much better,” he answered gratefully, snuggling into the garment. “Smells good,” he said, voice husky.

James wasn’t sure why, but that comment made him nearly blush. “Okay. Let’s take a look around, then. What’s your name?” He took out his flashlight and switched it on. A comforting beam of halogen light illuminated the side of the building.

“Nicholas,” the young man answered, following just behind James as he walked toward the side of the building.

“Nice to meet you, Nicholas. I’m James.” He shone his flashlight up the side of the building, startling some night creature that rustled through the underbrush. Nicholas jumped.

“What was that?”

“A cat, or maybe a possum,” James assured him. “Nothing bigger than that.”

“Oh.” Nicholas sounded only slightly reassured.

“Which one is your apartment?” James asked, making his way through the underbrush to the backyard, which was unfenced.

“On the other side,” Nicholas offered. “Ground floor.”

James nodded. “Ground floor apartments are much easier targets for break-ins.”

“I didn’t know that,” Nicholas said softly.

James shrugged. “It’s just easier to get in and out. Some criminals are lazy.”

Nicholas nodded. “That makes sense.”

James entered the backyard, Nicholas close behind. He shone his flashlight around, but saw no signs of movement. “They’re probably long gone. You say the intruder was actually inside your apartment?”

“Yes, that’s why I was so freaked!” Nicholas exclaimed, staying near the police officer. “I sleep kinda heavy. I didn’t hear anything, until all of a sudden I opened my eyes and there he was! I thought I was dreaming for a second, and I guess I made a noise. He, like, stepped closer, and I thought I was dead.” Nicholas sniffled a little and James had the insane urge to comfort him.

“Then what happened?” James prompted, stopping to examine a window.

“He looked at me, then he turned and left.”

“You didn’t say anything, do anything?”

“Fuck no! I was too scared. He just left. It was weird.”

“Maybe he heard something,” James suggested. “It looks like this screen is loose.” He pointed out the corner. “Is this your apartment?”

“Yeah, it’s my kitchen window,” he answered. “You think that’s how he got in?”

“It’s likely. The window doesn’t lock, see?” He reached into the gap made by the loose screen and slid the window open.

“Holy shit!” Nicholas gasped. “I had no idea!”

“Now you do,” James said. “Even the simplest of locks can slow down a burglar enough that he’ll decide to go elsewhere. There are always plenty of other, easier places to break into.”

“I’ll see about getting some locks tomorrow,” nodded Nicholas quickly.

“Good,” James said. “Let’s finish looking around. But I bet that’s it.”

Nicholas followed James as they checked the rest of the apartment. “Looks clear to me. Come on, let’s go inside and I’ll check the windows. I’ll show you how to do a makeshift lock.” Plus, Nicholas looked about to turn blue with cold despite James’s jacket. Most of his legs were bare. His long, slender, pale legs…James tore his gaze away with effort.

Nicholas led the way into his apartment, then stood in the doorway hesitantly. “Um, I’m sorry to be such a wuss, but...” He looked into James’s eyes. “Could you, um, check the closets and stuff? I’m just creeped out that someone was actually in here...”

“No problem,” James smiled. He spotted a throw on the couch and said, “Have a seat and I’ll check.” Nicholas nodded and sat down, and James draped the throw over Nicholas’ bare legs. It was sensuously soft, almost like real fur.

“Thanks, officer.”

“Call me James,” he responded, and quickly but thoroughly checked the small apartment. It was only a one bedroom, so it didn’t take long, but he was careful about checking the closets and under the bed. When he returned to the living room, he found Nicholas looking sheepish but less blue. “All clear.”

Nicholas beamed. “I feel like a baby, sorry. I’m twenty-one, I promise.”

James could tell Nicholas was relieved. “I’ll show you how to block a window from being opened, okay?” So with various pieces of wood, and in one case, a broom handle, James made sure that no one would easily get into Nicholas’ apartment again.

“So, have you checked to make sure nothing was stolen?” James asked when they were back in the living room.

“I don’t have much,” Nicholas shrugged. “Let me take a quick look.” He wandered around the apartment, disappearing briefly into the bedroom. When he emerged, he shook his head. “Nope. Nothing missing.”

“That’s good,” James nodded. “And could you see the person at all? To describe him?”

Nicholas frowned. “No, it was too dark. I could just kind of see an outline. He looked big, though.” His gaze traveled over James. “Not big like you,” he added after a moment’s thought. “Like, wider. Maybe fat.”

James made a couple of notes in his book. “If you think of anything else, any other details…”

“I’ll be sure to let you know,” Nicholas said, and to James’ eyes he seemed more confident.

“Well, is there anything else you need?” James asked, ready to leave. Luckily, it was a quiet night and James had no calls in the meantime. It was, in fact, almost time for his shift to end.

Nicholas covered his mouth with a hand as he yawned. “No, you’ve already been way too nice,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

James smiled. “I could never be too nice. Look,” he said, pulling his wallet out. “Here’s my card. If you ever feel scared, but you don’t feel like it’s an emergency, just call me. Leave a message if I don’t answer, I promise I’ll call you right back.”

Nicholas took the card and looked at it. “Thanks,” he said, looking almost shy now. “I just might.”

James had Nicholas sign a report and then he left. The rest of his shift was uneventful and he found himself thinking of Nicholas. He was just his type, and if Nicholas was twenty-one, then James was only about five years older than him. He wondered if Nicholas would ever date a cop.

Writer's Block by Jennifer Mueller

Island Serenade
(Do I even like this??)

First Draft

[Research position of island for later in the story, need to find 1895 shipping chart] Brede coughed up the seawater that had filled his lungs when the ship sank and during the subsequent time he was in the water. How long had passed, he had no idea. Slowly his senses began to register; the sand beneath him was so soft that he had sunk in deeply. His lips felt cracked and dry, and every part of him itched. All he could manage was a low moan.

“Are you awake then, mon ami?” the woman watching him asked. He was definitely Scandinavian by his coloring. Ash blond hair and blue eyes, even if he was tan. She tried not to think of the fact that he was slowly dying. Sharing the food that was available would make it even harder to come by. He would work hard as she had at the start, and then he, too, would give up as food became harder to find. Still, company was better than no one at all, even if there wasn’t enough food. [Find new place to work in description, no head hopping.]

“No.”

“If you think you can move with help, I know where there’s fresh water. You’ll need to drink soon.”

“How can you know so damned much? We were just shipwrecked!” Brede inhaled deeply, but the effort sent him into a coughing spasm. Lying spent, it clarified just how parched he was. Sand even filled his throat as he swallowed.

“I’ve been here two months, since the last hurricane passed through. Yours is the first face I’ve seen since. If anyone else survived, they’ve not made it to this shore.”

The sun burned his eyes as Brede forced them open. Then a cup materialized in his hand.

“Wash your face with this. You’ve probably salt in your eyes. I’ve more here for you to drink. I pulled you out of the high tide mark last night, but hadn’t the strength to move you any further.”

A little at a time he poured and rubbed. Finally, he tried to focus once more as he struggled to sit. There sitting rather civilized looking was a quite lovely woman. Lovely, hell, she was gorgeous with dark brown hair and flashing green eyes. Her hair was up properly, but then he noticed she wore only a corset cover and drawers. 1895 was a good year for undergarments was all Brede could think about for a moment. French by the accent, she also sported a tan far darker than any woman would allow herself, even in the Caribbean.

The longer he was up, the more his throat burned. He could only hold out his hand for the vessel of water. The more he drank, the more he craved, and he emptied the cup far too soon. Again and again he drank until he had his fill. Looking around, Brede spotted lush palm trees, backed with sea grapes. A crescent strip of white beach, but not too far off, boulders littered the coast. Half a mile change in his path and he would have been dashed to death. Behind, he observed a small mountain peak covered in fog.

“Any idea where we are?” Brede asked.

“I was headed to St. Barthelemy when the hurricane hit. Last port we visited was St. Croix in the Dutch Virgin Islands. We were only a day at most from port. How far off course we were sent before the Aurora capsized I can’t say. Do you need something to eat, or can you walk to the pool to clean up first? My shelter is on the other side of the island at the old copper mine. You’ll have to walk either way.”

“My name’s Brede. I was headed to St. Croix when the storm hit, and I think I can walk.” [Does his name sound too much like Bree, is it manly enough?]

“Virginie.” With a determined air, she grabbed a bucket at her feet and started walking, leaving Brede to follow.

“Is there danger for you to need to walk so fast?”

At that, she laughed and slowed to fall back next to him. “Danger, no. After every storm, I make the circuit around the beach to see if any ships were taken off course or laid up in the shelter of the island. With the mine here, I know it’s not uncharted. I haven’t had a chance to check the rest, with finding you.”

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but smile. “You always make the walk with your hair done properly?”

“I wanted to make a good impression at our first meeting. I’d prefer you didn’t think I’d gone completely savage. You’re looking at the best I have to wear. I found one trunk of clothes washed up when I explored, but it wasn’t mine. I had to lose weight from the change in diet before they fit. My dress was destroyed by then, and in the trunk were only undergarments.”

She had curves made for taking to bed. “I won’t think you’re savage as long as you don’t mind my staring a bit.”

Virginie looked over with a grin. “Agreed.”

* * * *