Monday, January 24, 2011

Prisoner of Desire by Yvette Hines

Chapter One

“Ten o’clock,” she’d said.


“Fireworks.” She caressed his arm.


“Take me to the moon.” She strutted past him in butter-tight jeans.

The memory faded as Steve headed toward the moonwalk exhibit with sure strides as the Fourth of July fireworks went off behind him. All of Claremont County had their gazes fixed on the midnight sky. No one paid attention to him as he made his way to Lilly. Lilly Jackson was a hot little spitfire who was well known in town. She wasn’t a whore by any stretch of imagination, but neither was she a choir girl. When she wanted something, there was no shame in her asking for it.

As he moved closer to his amorous rendezvous, his heart began to race. His skin had tingled since Lilly gave him a sly wink, maneuvered her way beside him, and whispered to meet her in the moonwalk exhibit. Thirty minutes had gone by and finally the opportunity to get away had come. Slipping away from a public affair for a lustful assignation was not like him. Correction: it wasn’t like the Steve Ewing that everyone expected. No, Steve Ewing was a banker, a manager, a conservative man to the Claremont County resident.

His father had been the bank manager for years in this town, and he’d taught him young that reputation was everything. More like drilled it into his head. So he’d set his goal to please his father.

Pushing thoughts of his father out of his mind, Steve advanced toward the exhibit. Glancing one more time over his shoulder, he assured himself that the town folks were still head tilting it toward the sky. Deciding not to use the front door, he went over and tried the side employee entrance. He was grateful when it opened.

The lamps around the carnival area broke into the semi dark room, illuminating her form as she lounged on one of the simulated hills facing the wall of stars. He could only see the top of her head. Her hair, normally chestnut brown, appeared like an ink river running down the moon hill.

Pulling the door behind him, the room became a dim blanket around him. It was hard to see anything. He was glad he located her body while the door was open. The rocky foam pillowed under his feet, squishing and rising. When he arrived at her side, her body was obscured by the shadows. He would have enjoyed seeing her face, but he didn’t need to for the reason they were here.

Kneeling beside her, it didn’t take him long to realize that she must have dozed off waiting for him. Smiling, he leaned over her, considering all the delicious ways to awaken her. Leaning into her, he could smell her scent. Weirdly it reminded him of Christmas, ginger and honey. Earlier he’d thought she smelled of wild flowers, but with so many people milling around he must have been mistaken.

Disregarding the sweet aroma, he began to whisper in her ear all the erotic things he wanted to do to her. How he wanted to stroke her pussy and feel it quiver in his hand. That he wanted to lick every drop of cream from her clit. Finally, he whispered how he wanted to bury his cock balls deep inside of her over and over again, until they were both dizzy with pleasure.

She took a deep breath and moaned softly in her sleep, letting him know he was getting through to her.

He smiled and settled himself beside her.

“Are you going to join me, beautiful, or do I have to do this alone?” Kissing the side of her neck, he continued to talk to her, coaxing her out of dreamland.

* * * *

Mandy’s sensual dream was built around a faceless man doing a good job of turning her body inside out. His voice sounded velvety and made her imagine silk sheets and hot bodies.

The little kisses he laid along her jawline caused tingling sensations on her skin, and she couldn’t help shifting toward the tormenting mouth. Her dream lover didn’t hesitate, he took command. Mandy was thrilled to be in his arms, in the embrace of a man who took control without being asked. Outside of her dream, men didn’t respond to her that way.

As the kiss deepened, she relaxed into the wonderland of her nocturnal imagination. Giving over to the fantasy, she was amazed at how real everything felt. The taste of his tongue as it dipped into her mouth, tangling with her own. How her lips tingled as he dragged his tongue under it.

Her nipples were tight and achy, causing her to sigh with relief when his strong, warm hand palmed one. When he pinched her nipple, she nipped his bottom lip, hoping he understood how much she liked it. Her panties were soaked and her jeans would soon find themselves with the same fate.

“Mmm, you are a sex kitten, aren’t you?” He squeezed harder.

There go the jeans, she thought as more wetness pooled between her legs.

“Yes,” she whispered, not wanting to end the dreamscape.

When the weight of his body settled onto her, she spread her legs wide to receive him. She was mad that even in her mind they were both fully clothed. She wanted to feel the intimate touch of his skin pressing into her own.

Her fantasy man must have anticipated her need. Shoving her shirt and bra out of the way, he lowered his head, seizing one needy nipple into his mouth. His suction was firm and steady, giving her an occasional flick of his tongue to soothe her.

It didn’t soothe, but the opposite—it was torture. Thrusting her sex against the thick bulge in his jeans, she began to grind against him, trying to give her throbbing clit satisfaction.

When he released one nipple for the other, she came. Fisting his head to her breast, her body shuddered underneath him as she moaned into the darkness surrounding her.

It was a dream she tried to remind herself even as the orgasm racked her body.

“Hot damn, girl, that was beautiful. I want to feel that.”

Before she could utter a comment, his swift hands unfastened her button and lowered her zipper. Her heart was racing with excitement she wanted his touch as well.

When her dream lover’s hand slipped past her panties and caressed her bare skin, she opened her legs wider. She wanted to be out of her clothing, she wanted him out of his. The desire to feel and see this man of her delusions was strong.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re soaked.” He fingered her clit and dipped a finger down her slit. “Is all this cream for me?”

Her mind was having a difficult time processing words. Every thought was centered between her thighs, concentrated on the movement of his hand.

“Is all this cream for me?” This time there was a commanding tone in his words as he scissored her pulsating clit between two fingers, demanding a response.

Electricity shot up her spine, and she cried out in a low husky voice she didn’t recognize as her own. “Yes, it’s for you.”

This was a dream, she had to remind herself. Definitely a dream—no man existed in Claremont County with this type of unassailable authority.

“Good.” Those toying two fingers stroked down and pushed inside of her deep and sat still.

She was ready to cry out and beg him to move those thick fingers.

“Ride me,” he demanded.

Ride him? Her hesitation was brief, the strength in his voice left no room for disobedience and she didn’t want to defy him. Not now, not while her body pleaded for satisfaction. If her dream man wanted her to fuck herself with his hand, she would. Spreading her legs as far as they would go, she began thrusting her hips toward him.

Pulling back and lifting, she pushed herself toward ecstasy. Clutching his ass, she found a rhythm.

She was rewarded by him licking her nipple in time with her thrust. The light brush over her sensitive flesh made her body tremble.

“Harder,” he growled against her skin.

Obeying him, she instantly began slamming her sex into his hand with all her might.

In response he bit the tip of her nipple and she came. The explosion consumed her, she sank her teeth hard into her bottom lip as her body quaked and rockets went off in her ears in rapid succession like it was the Fourth of July.

Those words brought clarity and a reality as her body quieted and the external blasting settled down. It was the Fourth and fireworks were going on outside of her head. This was no dream.

Who is this man?

“Mommy, I want to see the moonwalk.”

“No, I want the bumper cars, you promised me, Mommy.”

The voices of bickering children came before Mandy could question the man.

“Shit!” he snarled. Removing his hand, he quickly rolled away from her. “Maybe next time.”

His face was covered in shadows and she was sure hers was also. The lights were still off, only leaving small twinkling stars of light around them.

The people outside seemed to be moving closer to them. Mandy felt his presence move away from her as she scrambled to right her clothing before the intruders invaded their love nest.

Two doors opened simultaneously, the front door bringing in a mother towing three kids and the side door where her starlight Casanova was exiting. She was grateful she was still on her knees when the bright lights outside shone on the face of her lover a second before the door closed.

Steve Ewing.

* * * *

Exiting the moonwalk exhibit, Steve shook. Damn, if the fireworks show had been just ten minutes longer he could have gotten some relief for the erection pressing hard against his zipper.

Who would have ever thought that Lilly responded to forceful commands? The way the orgasm rocked her body when he bit her nipple made him groan in memory. Lilly Jackson, his match—he couldn’t believe it.

“Steve! Steve!”

He halted his strides at the sound of his name. Turning, he saw Lilly lightly jogging toward him. Smiling, he hoped she would ask him to take her to his place and finish what they had started.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” He stepped closer to her.

A little winded, she said, “I’m sorry. I got held up in a conversation with my mother and you know how that woman can talk.”

He frowned. It had only been a few minutes since they were in the exhibit. Maybe she was just excited to continue their escapade. “It’s no problem.”

She flipped her brown hair over her shoulder. Something about her coloring looked odd to him.

“Well, since we didn’t get to meet in the moonwalk, how about we walk into your house and see where it takes us.” Closing the gap, she ran her hand up his chest and her scent met him. Wildflowers.

“You didn’t go to the moonwalk?” he questioned.

Taking it as an accusation, she slapped her hands on her hips and said, “I told you, it was my momma’s fault.” Her thin lips formed a pout. “I’ll make it up to you at your place, Steve.”

If Lilly wasn’t in the moonwalk, then who the hell was?

Glancing over the top of Lilly’s head, which wasn’t hard to do, he tried to see who was milling around the building. But, it was no help—all of Claremont County now shuffled around the carnival area.

Shaking his head, he glanced back at Lilly. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Steve?” Disappointment etched into her cream-colored features.

Even if he wanted to take Lilly up on her offer, his erection had subsided with the knowledge she wasn’t the firecracker that had taken him to another world.

“I’m sorry.” Turning, he walked away. His fingers were still tingling, reminded him how it felt to be inside of the nightingale, whoever she was.

“Steve!” Lilly shrieked.

Strutting to his car, he lifted his hand to his face and inhaled the scent still lingering. Ginger and spice and everything nice, that’s what his mystery woman was made of.

He would find her.