Sunday Snog #151

Last week, I forgot to add the Sunday Snog banner, that was remedied! Here is another one for you. Appears when I do memes, I turn it into a serial…so this is continued from last week…xx

Veronica stared at the champagne glasses on the balcony until they became a blur.
It was not that she was upset that Gwennie was in love, because it was clear that she was…she was afraid that she would end up in the same situation that she had.
Love was not guaranteed, but the way that she had fallen in love with Max when she was a young ballerina…she thought that they were a fairy tale come true. They had been for a long time, long enough for her to have had Gwennie. But then it was gone faster than anything.
Her vision became clear again, and she was offered a glass of champagne which she took and held it just below her mouth so that she felt the cool minute drops of it bubble against her lips. She clutched the stem of her glass tightly when she saw Max walking toward her, and took a gulp of the bubbly.
“Where’s our star?” he asked standing in front of her, so that she could smell the champagne on his breath.
She looked at him she hoped soberly, but she was definitely a little tipsy.
“With her boyfriend I suspect,” she replied squeezing the stem of her glass so hard she feared she would break it.
“Oh Nich?”
“You did not tell me she was seeing another dancer.”
“Gwennie tells you everything V. I am sure she mentioned him to you.”
“She did, but she did not say that she was seeing him.”
“You did not tell your parents about us right away either…”
“I don’t want Gwennie to be us!”
“Lower your voice V, don’t make a scene tonight…”
“”Because I always make a scene!” Veronica whispered fiercely, as he took her arm and led her to the stairwell.
“There are people here tonight V, it it Gwendolyn’s night.”
Veronica glared at him.
He did nothing that she did. She called their daughter Gwennie, he called her Gwendolyn.
“I never would do anything to hurt Gwen–” She looked down as she felt her eyes moisten. “I love her more than anything…”
“I know.” Max touched her cheek. “I forget how delicate and sensitive you are, I would never do anything to hurt you.”
He pulled her close to him, and she fell into his embrace with ease from familiarity. Her eyes completely moistened at his words because he had hurt her deeply. When he said he wanted to separate, and she finally asked for a divorce because she did not want to be in limbo…he hurt her so much then.
He lifted her face up to his, and kissed her cheek. The way his eyes focused on hers was familiar, but not in a post-marital way. When he pinned her to the wall, and pressed his lips to hers, she lost her balance. He quickly reached for her hips, and he kissed her with more urgency than she remembered him ever kissing her with. She felt him hardening against her, and she pressed both of her hands to the wall to push herself more to him. Tilting her head so her could kiss her neck, she lost her balance again. He held her hips tighter, and she knew she would bruise. Tomorrow morning, she would stare in the mirror at those fully bloomed bruises, and admire them more than any love bites she had had on her neck.
When they pulled away from each other, she was breathless. He kissed her again and again. It was with complete abandon that she wrapped her arms about him, before she moved away from him as if she had been burned by fire.
They looked at each other, their breath heavy. Max caressed her stiff from tears cheek,
“You are always the most extraordinary woman in the room…”
He took her hand, and they were lucky to return unnoticed to where the gala was winding down. When he let her hand go to walk over to a dancer, Veronica put her hand in her mouth and she could taste him.

You can get more snogs here.


kiss via twitter


Wicked Wednesday #124 — Bad Sex

Severine held the phone in her hand, between her breasts. She had hoped to fly into New York, and see Rafe. She knew that it was ridiculous for her to believe that Rafe’s new relationship status was going to change anything between the two of them, but she could not help it.
There was a disconnect between her heart and her body, she knew in her head that there was probably still not going to be anything more. But her body had deeper cravings and forced her to desire more, to want what she wanted in the first place when she started with him.
The insatiable craving that she had for him now, was not based on their early encounters. She felt that maybe Rafe was right, and she should have known that there was something seriously flawed with their relationship. The odd times that he would choose to see her. He would come to her hotel when she was in New York, in the morning. The first time that they made love, he came nearly at the crack of dawn. She had not had time to put her contacts in, so she went to the door with her thick cat’s eyes frames. Bare without makeup and without a bra, unbrushed teeth, she greeted him.
He grabbed her breast not knowing she was premenstrual, and sensitive there. She groaned, he must have thought that that was her pleasure. Severine was torn because she wanted to be with him, they had talked about it…but she had wanted to look better than this. To feel better than this.
When he pressed her to the door of her closed hotel room, she kissed him and allowed tongue even though she had morning breath. The way that he grabbed her, she was not even sure he noticed because he wanted to have sex so much.
Her glasses fogged up, and they knocked teeth more than a few times with labored kissing If she had not wanted him, she would have felt helpless. Rafe was directing how everything was going, she went along with him. She wanted him, and she wanted what he wanted. He placed his hands roughly wherever he wanted on her body, and arranged her in the same way.
The sex was very orchestrated and quick. There was a feeling of pleasure in her for what had happened, more than there was pleasure while it was happening. When he left and she was in the shower, the water burned where he touched her because she remembered he had been there. The act had been so much more important to her than the sensation. Compared to everything that had happened to them since, she could say that it had been pretty bad sex that time.
But now, phone between her breasts, her clitoris throbbing just from what he said to her on the phone.
“When are you coming back to New York now that this flight was cancelled?” he asked her.
“Soon,” she choked thinking too much about the throbbing between her legs.
Rafe did not have to be near her now to give her pleasure.
Phone between her breasts, she closed her eyes. Now would have been a good time to talk to Oscar, but he was in Shanghai. All the men around her had secrets. Though finally she was hoping that Rafe’s secrets were open, as open as his relationship was going to be…

More Wicked Wednesday here:


rumpled sheets via


Sunday Snog #150 — Blisse Birthday Bash

When I did the Sunday Snog for Sommer Marsden, I thought the kiss meme was a one-off. How delighted I was to discover that it is a weekly thing! This week celebrates the 150th snog, and Victoria Blisse’s birthday. Victoria said it would be nice if a party could be figured into this week’s kiss, so here is what I have.

You can get more snogs here.

Veronica liked looking at Gwendolyn when she did not know she was looking at her. She liked seeing how her daughter was when she did not know that she was there. In ways, looking at Gwennie was like looking at herself with rose-colored glasses.
Her daughter was everything she had wanted to be at her age but more so. Gwennie had been an apprentice at a prestigious dance school, and then was invited to be a member of the corps de ballet. She was not being a doting mom, she knew that Gwennie would be promoted to the ranks of principal before long.
Veronica looked in the mirror, she had to admit that she did look stunning. She had made sure that she would. Because she always made that extra effort when she was going to see Max. It was a celebratory night, the company’s gala and she made sure that she was impeccable in a floral cocktail dress that when she stood outside of the theater, she looked like she belonged as a sculpture in the garden. But inside, it was important for her to look good for Max as it always had been.
Even though they were not together anymore, it still mattered to her that he saw her as his beautiful ex. Their relationship by default had to be cordial, because he was on the board of the ballet company. They had met as dancers, and she believed that she fell in love with him on the stage up in the air in his strong arms. Even before they performed together on the stage, dancers really only saw other dancers because their schedules were such that they were always together.
The dissipation of their marriage had not been painful, it was kind of like agreeing that you needed a new best friend.
His new best friend, Chrysalis was a dancer in the ballet as well. She had been a part of the corps de ballet at a European company, and was extremely beautiful. Veronica could not take that away from her, so she always tried to look her best when she was going to see them.
But it was Gwennie that she watched as she worked the crowd. The dancers came out in their formal wear after their earlier performance, and walked about. At eighteen, Gwennie was too young to have any champagne, but her sparkling personality did not prevent her from wowing the gala crowd. It seemed she was in her element, and did not even notice her mother until she was right in front of her.
“Mom!” she smiled. It warmed Veronica’s heart to see that smile still, in the elegant young woman that stood before her.
Veronica held her daughter close in her arms, breathing in her sweet scent. Gwennie wore her favorite perfume, that smelled just about the same on both of them. It seemed it was a bit sweeter on Gwennie though. She closed her eyes as she squeezed her daughter, and she swore she saw roses behind her closed lids.
“You are beautiful, a beautiful ballerina. I cannot be any prouder of you,” Veronica opened her eyes, and looked at her daughter. she saw Gwennie’s eyes moistened, and she realized she had not been able to help herself but that Gwennie got so emotional when she gave her that type of accolade.
“Thank you Mom.”
Gwendolyn’s moist eyes dried up as she looked toward the young man that she recognized as the dancer she had partnered with. She took his hand,
“Nich, this is my mother Veronica Kidd. Mom, this is Nich Harrison, the amazing new dancer that I have been telling you about.”
“Mrs. Kidd, you don’t even need an introduction. You look so much like Gwen, it is a pleasure to meet you.
“It’s Ms. I did not change my married name, but I am no longer married,” Veronica smiled wryly. Gwennie had mentioned Nich, but seeing them now, she realized he was not just another dance partner.
“I’m sorry!” Nich said looking completely nervous, and Veronica had to admit she was pleased. She really hoped that Gwennie was not planning to do the exact same thing that she had. And she could see very clearly that it was.
Chrysalis walked up behind them, and kissed Gwennie. Veronica was happy that Chrysalis did seem to really have an attachment to her daughter, and Gwennie seemed quite a fan of hers as well.
“It’s nothing,” she said letting Nich off the hook for now. “It is a pleasure to meet you. You both danced like a dream.
Stars were brilliant in her daughter’s eyes when she said that, and Nich turned to smile at her.
Veronica smiled, but she felt her lower lip tremble a bit.
“Chrysalis,” she said as she kissed her cheek.
“Veronica, you look lovelier than ever,” Chrysalis said, and Veronica knew she was sincere. But looking at the other woman in her nude sequined form-fitting dress, it was hard for her to feel very beautiful.
“V is always one of the most beautiful women in the room,” Max said looking at her in the sweeping, lingering way she had wanted him to. She still felt like the young dancer she had been when she met him. Even though when they were married and he said that sentence, she was the most beautiful woman in the room.
He kissed her hand, and she knew that there was color there. Max still looked at her even after he let go of her hand, before he put his arm about Chrysalis.
“It is always good to see you V, especially when we can get together again to see our beautiful little girl wow the world.”
Max never hid his affection and love for his daughter. She went into his arms like it was home, and that would have been the thing that Veronica remembered that night, if it had not been for the other memory she would have.
Later after a glass of her champagne that Veronica permitted Gwennie to have, she saw her on the balcony looking down at the fountain below. Nich walked out behind her. He was twenty-one, so he could have a glass of champagne. They twisted their wrists around each other’s. To sip from each other’s glass.
But Nich surprised Gwennie. Leaning in to kiss her rich red lips, her face made up from the performance earlier. Gwennie did not need it, but with her lovely red lips, how could a young man resist tasting them? They put their champagne glasses down, and instead drank each other’s lips. Gwennie held his head, and looked in his eyes soberly. Her eyes filled with love…
Veronica looked away it was not something she should be seeing. She did not look back again until much later, and studied the champagne glasses that had been left on the balcony.


kiss via wikimedia


Wicked Wednesday #123 — Senses

Oscar adored Polly’s naked scent, the scent of her warmth as he looked at her soft curves over the bubbles of the glass of champagne she held. She smiled at him, and he touched the curve of her hip. He savored the sweetness of champagne on his tongue, the bubbles popping there and listened to the soft singsong of her voice as she looked up at him, almost splashing champagne on him. He aimlessly caressed her hip again, his hand slipping down a bit more than it should have. They had both been drinking, so he figured she might let it go.
She had taken off her stilettos which he always wondered how she always floated so gracefully above them, and never tottered. But she had taken them off, and rubbed each foot as she did.
His intuition told him he should be careful with a barefoot woman before him. Made him think of the last time he was at an art opening in Shanghai with a woman, the last time a beautiful barefoot woman was standing in front of him…
Polly was wearing a qipao she found in a local vintage store. It looked amazing on her, everything looked amazing on her and he found himself unable to look without touching her. She did not seem to mind, and even more she had a tendency to move into his touch that made him want to touch her in a bolder way each time.
His conversation on Skype with Eliza, her declaring that she now wanted an open relationship with Rafe and that she wanted to see him left him torn. Severine was not really as involved with him as she had been, because she felt that this open relationship meant that she would have a chance with Rafe and that was all she really wanted.
Oscar had never had a desire to be in open relationship, and even as much as he loved Eliza, it was hard for him to not still desire a woman who might want to be with just him.
Polly soft and warm in appearance and heart in front of him, was something that made him feel good in the moment. He felt something he had not felt for a long time, or at least something he had not allowed himself to feel for a long time.
He wanted Polly.
When he first met her he wanted her, but her rebuff made him think it was not the right thing. She clearly did not want to get any closer to him, and he felt it was the right thing since they were going to be working together.
But her glossy beauty was never lost on him, her hair that looked like she brushed it to the finest shine. Her voice was like honey, so sweet even when she ignored him. She talked to him until now only when she had to but her voice was honey, so sweet and made him do whatever she asked for. Her scent was amazing, the scent was like a fruit or flower that could be eaten. Her skin was softer than a cloud, he was sure and he could still taste strands of her perfumed hair from when she fell asleep in the car beside him heading to the airport.
Oscar was aroused just thinking about her, glad she was a bit tipsy because she would not notice how he felt.
“It was a good idea to come to this party and relax, but I guess you had to come when there are so many pictures of you on the walls of the gallery!” Polly declared.
“It is only two!” he protested looking into her eyes that looked up into his. “And if Fiona invited me, I had to come.”
Polly grinned at him, and raised her glass almost above her head to toast him.
It was as if she dangled that fruit or flower she smelled like to his mouth. He wanted to take a bite desperately, but he did not want to start something with her since they worked together, since they were both a bit inebriated and mostly because he did not trust his desire anymore.
But he wanted her, he wanted her so much he wanted to drag her by her glossy hair out of the gallery and fuck her in the closest corner, pulling apart her qipao and having his way with her until there were only remnants of her glossy beauty that was before him now.
He let his glass of champagne toast hers, and he spilled some on her. The scent of her champagne drenched, was almost more than he could bear.
But he was going to bear it, he was not going to let things get out of hand even though Polly was attacking his senses with all her glossiness.

More Wicked Wednesday here:


qipao via wikimedia


Wicked Wednesday #122 — Hate

Rafe hated that Eliza remained friends with Sandrine. He knew he could trust Sandrine with his life, but he was not as sure that he could trust that Eliza would not figure out one day that he had had many transgressions before Severine…including with Sandrine herself in the beginning of their relationship.
He had tried very hard to be only with Eliza, but it was just not natural to him. At first he thought he would be okay, but in an argument with Sandrine he fell apart.
“I told your new girlfriend as I am telling you, that you are not ever going to be faithful to her or anyone else. I did not even want it with you, and I could not keep you.”
The way she conceded, her eyes were wide but not moist. She just stared at him after she stated her truth.
He touched her face, and she put her hand over his. Being that close to her after she had been so honest, her soft scent that perfumed his thoughts even now. He remembered meeting her, being with her and he forgot everything in that moment. He wanted her. Sandrine was not yet friends with Eliza, so she had no problem letting him have her.
Even if he touched her now after all these years, it was like touching a live wire. But Sandrine did not want him now that she was friends with Eliza. She also did not think that what had happened that one time was anything to ruin her friendship with Eliza.
He lit a cigar in a bar where you could get away with that in New York City. Sandrine walked in, and he looked down at the table. They had made a conscious decision not to meet alone a long time ago, so when she summoned him he knew it was something serious.
The sound of her stilettos was the only sound he heard as she walked to the table, dulling out all the conversations and laughter about them. Dulling the sound of heavy glasses from hard drinks, there were not any elderflower or hibiscus cocktails here. Cigar in one hand, rye whiskey in the other was how he was armed as she sat down.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, felt the warmth flood where his lips touched her.
“Good to see you S,” he said.
“You sent Lizzie to me like a spy in the house of polyamorous love. You know Marcus has wanted to fuck her, if she wants a foursome are you prepared to handle that? What are you drinking?”
She picked up his whiskey and drained it, the heavy glass hitting the oak table with a thud.
Rafe set his cigar on the ashtray.
“I don’t make Eliza do anything. What I made her fuck this Oscar character? Marcus will have to get in line.”
“What did you do to her? She only wanted you, she was so in love with you and now she feels like she needs someone else? Of course you are fine with that, you probably waited to wear her down.”
Rafe ran his hand through his hair, then grabbed her wrist. Twisted her wedding band.
“Don’t you come in here preaching to me! What you think because you are married that you are some authority? Your marriage is open. If I came over to you and put my fingers in you, you’d lick your come off my fingers and be the same as you were when I was with you…and you know it.”
Sandrine laughed in his face, he let go of her hand.
“That’s all you have anymore isn’t it? You think you can hypnotize everyone with your dick, but that is all you are. A dick.”
She stood up, he stood up with her.
“You’re leaving?”
“I’m done.”
“You came all the way here to tell me I’m a dick?”
Sandrine put her hands to her chest as if for prayer.
“I am came here to meet a friend, but I do not know who you are anymore.”
The sound of her stilettos walking away from him was all he heard in the cigar bar.
He wasn’t sure who he was anymore either. What he wanted, what he was doing and he hated that Sandrine always called him out…

More Wicked Wednesday here:


whiskey via wikipedia


A Darker Flame: Ice

Elijah dreamt that he was in a snowstorm in the middle of the desert, he woke up and realized the air conditioning was on blowing on him that morning while he was still in Chile. Being stranded in the desert in the snow, represented that he knew that had been deserted. Getting dressed to meet Adora on a deserted island, he was not sure how he felt as he loaded his gun.
Adora was beautiful, and even though he was a scientist he was a geek in the way that many women found sexy. He knew that women were attracted to him, but he was married to science. But Adora was the most beautiful woman he had ever been with, and the most serious relationship that he had ever had. He never proposed to a woman before her.
Living with her was comfortable for him. He wanted to be with a partner who wanted someone who meant everything to them, and to be with someone who meant everything to him. Believing Adora loved him, that he was going to be happy with her forever made him feel invincible. But now, she made him feel like the cliché of a woman scorned. When he realized that she was seeing Didier, it was like a shot in the head. It was the worst pain that he could have imagined. If he had known that he would feel like this, he would have stayed married to his career.
It was freezing now again like it had been in his dream, because of a sudden surge of air from the air conditioning. Watching Adora cringing as she watched the enlarged words from her diary on the curtains, he remembered what it was like when he saw them for the first time. Words of love written by her for Didier. He had not wanted to believe about their kiss at the ball, but when he saw it on Elberta’s phone he had no choice but to believe. It angered him that Elberta had shown it to him, and he had dealt with her…but it was best that he knew.
Adora was dazed on the floor after he had hit her. He had not been raised to be like this with a woman, but she had brought him to this point. Right now, he was so many things that he had never imagined he would be. After he hit Adora and she fell back dazed, he went after Didier again. Without Adora’s screams, he punched him like a bag until his knuckles began to hurt. Adora crawled on the floor, her arms out like a snake. He stepped on her wrist, and she winced with pain.
When he first got there, he was thinking he was just going to scare them, but now that he had been there for awhile he was not sure what he was going to do.
He sat on the floor beside Adora, shivering and wondering what he was going to do next. How far he was going to have to go, how far he wanted to go…
Adora reached for his ankle, he jumped up and kicked her hand away.
“Don’t touch me!”
He waved her touch away like an insect, and caught his reflection in the mirror. A silhouette in black, he did not recognize himself. Elijah was unable to understand how he could be so hot with rage, and feel so cold inside…

Darker flames can be found here:


photo via google images


Wicked Wednesday #121 — White

Eliza made her way up the winding path,nto the literally white picket fence that led to Sandrine’s house. She always teased her friend about it, because behind the fence literally was the cliché.
Her friendship with Sandrine was not immediate, but it did come after she had been with Rafe for awhile and Sandrine met Marcus who would end up being her husband. At that point, it was possible and they were able to be very good friends.
“Bienvenue,” Sandrine hugged her in the beautiful way that she did, when she opened the door. She walked slowly away in her colorful kimono, two children had done nothing but enhance her curves. The way Marcus leered at her whenever they were in public, showed that he saw his wife as a very gorgeous and desirable woman. Even when Rafe was around her, it was clear that there had been a deep connection.
But Eliza was not that concerned about that, she just really needed to see her friend. Looking at her on the sofa, semi-sprawled looking like she was a model for a Matisse, she noticed how much she looked like Severine. Not exactly the same, but similar and not just because both of them were French. Eliza watched the blooming bud in her teacup turn into a little flower, and took a small sip to savor as the petals tickled her lips.
“So this is what you want now, after all?” Sandrine raised her eyebrow at her friend. “I mean I was even surprised about Oscar when you told me. Not so much about the other woman, I was never sure that Rafe was going to be able to be a one-woman man. When I told you that when we were broken up, it was not to be mean. I knew him, I knew what he was like.
“I think I knew deep down too, but I wanted to believe he could. When we had the accident, we were both so angry at each other. Ever since, every time I try to imagine life without him…I can’t.”
“You love him.”
Nodding into her cup, Eliza agreed silently. She had never stopped loving Rafe, she was not sure she would ever stop loving him. But at the same time, she knew she was not ever going to be able to forget Oscar or let him go. She had been in touch with him constantly since he had left New York. He was in Shanghai again, and that always made her feel wistful since that was where she realized that she loved him.
“So what do you want me to tell you?” Sandrine put her cup of tea down, and searched her face. “More about Rafe and me? How it works with Marcus and I? How can I help?”
“Using my name in vain again sweet wifey?”
Marcus walked into the living room, and Eliza drank her tea like shots.
Sandrine had particularly good taste in men, and her started-out-waiter-cum-actor husband was magnetic. Especially when he looked at Eliza the way he did, with the focus that he gave to everything. Eliza looked away from him, before licking her lips and smiling at him. When he swooped down to kiss her, she was afraid she was going to have an accident on their couch.
But now, now that she was opening up her relationship, was it so terrible that she had always been super attracted to her friend’s husband? Studying the two of them together, Eliza sipped at her empty teacup hoping for some moisture from the cool teabag…

More Wicked Wednesday here:


white picket fence via wikipedia


Wicked Wednesday #120 — Communication

Eliza stared at her ring. She remembered how she felt putting it on her finger for the first time. It looked alien, but everything it meant, meant everything to her.
Looking at her hand that covered Rafe’s, she never would have expected that… that after she saw him at the hotel with Oscar’s girl that they would ever talk again. That they would have a civilized conversation. That she would touch him again. But the lines of communication opened, and she realized oddly enough that she, they had come full circle.
When she first got together with Rafe, he was in an open relationship. He had agreed to be closed for their relationship, but clearly neither of them really wanted that. She had never expected that she would step outside of the relationship, but she had.
“Sandrine knew about you,” he said quietly, looking up from their hands to search her eyes. “Where I was most wrong, was not telling you what I was doing. That lack of communication was what caused everything I think.”
Eliza continued to look at her hand on top of his. At her ring, all the glints of light catching her eye.
“It was that I resented. I felt like you felt I had to compromise, and be everything you want because I made you be closed with me. I never thought I would want the same thing ever. To be with someone besides you.”
Rafe put his hand on top of hers.
“But I cannot imagine not being married to you Eliza, I cannot see a life before me that you are not part of.”
Eliza looked up at him, her eyes blurry from tears that wanted to fall down her face.
“I imagined you before you were mine,” she sniffled.
He rubbed her hand in pointed circles like he was zooming in on a target. His index finger caressed the diamond engagement ring he placed on her hand, making everything in her life involve him. It joined them without words. Because marriage was in the end only words, if you say the words and you are not committed it is just fraud.
She was never a fraud. If she had agreed to opening their relationship years ago she would have been, but now she was not. She was different, at least in a different place as a woman.
“The only thing is that if we open it up, we have to communicate. Communication is the main thing. That nothing is a secret. Because secrets close things up.” Rafe added as if he were giving a lecture in a hall.
Eliza nodded. Things had been closed around them for a long time. They were going to open everything up. Finally, and she believed they would be better on the other side of it all.
He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed the top of it, her knuckles and her ring.

More Wicked Wednesday here:


attraction ring by harry winston via


Smut for Good: A Snog for Sommer

I feel very lucky to be a part of an amazing community of writers. Lucky not just because we all love to write erotica, but because we are all so full of heart and genuine caring. When one of us is in need, everyone cares and helps out. Sommer Marsden is in need…A Snog for Sommer was created.
When I first saw A Snog for Sommer posted online, I was not sure I could contribute because I really did not have a longer piece to steal a kiss from! Luckily, I was told I could contribute any kiss I’ve written. I realized that my contributions for Wicked Wednesday have become a bit of a serial, so I pulled my kiss from there.
You can get a ton of kisses from my fellow writers at A Snog for Sommer today! Sommer Marsden is donating a kiss as well. With all she is going through, she finds writing the most therapeutic thing…
So spread the word on social media, and donate if you can. Giving of yourself: your time, possessions or heart really is the most amazing thing you can do.
Okay time for a snog! And if you leave a comment, I will happily send you an anthology from my catalog. xoxo

“Looking for your fiance? He’s probably not going to come.”

“What do you mean?”

She was sure her eyes darkened like Rafe told her they did when she was mad at him. The stranger was taken off his game for a moment which pleased her.

“I mean I don’t think your fiance is going to come, and I think you are coming with me.”

He held her upper arm loosely, but his grip was firm nonetheless.

“My fiance–”

His finger on her mouth was soft, almost a caress, and she was lulled into silence. She knocked over her drink, and burned with embarrassment. When she looked up at the bartender, he waved her off and she got off the stool as she was being gestured to by this man who she did not know. Her heart was beating calmly, nothing about her was wild as he took her out of the bar.

They waited near the elevators, as he took out a pack of cigarettes. He offered her one, she shook her head but he kept the cigarettes extended until she took one.

“You are going to have a hard time with the obey part of the vows, aren’t you?”

“They do not have that in the vows anymore.”

“They should,” he said inhaling smoke.

Eliza raised her eyebrow at him as he lit a cigarette for her. She had stopped smoking a few years ago when she became domesticated, or rather when she started living with Rafe. But now the feeling of the cigarette in her mouth made her feel happy. Made her think of a time when she was free. It was almost as if she were that person again.

“You think so, huh?” she said blowing out her own cloud of smoke. “Does your wife obey you?”

He snorted.

“I’m not married. But if you vow to be with a man you should obey him, and he should protect you.”

Eliza inhaled and shook her head. She wondered if Rafe was looking for her now. It was a very dim thought in her head, she did not think it would be awful for him to wonder where his perfect fiancée was for a moment.

Perfect, perfect, that was what he said about her and what he expected. She did obey him, and he did protect her but it was hard to be perfect.

“My fiance is perfect,” Eliza said out loud what she was thinking.

“Then what are you doing out here with a stranger when he is looking for you?”

Shrugging and swinging her cigarette back with her arms, from her perfect black dress that Rafe loved her in so much, she declared.

“I am not perfect.”

He grabbed her and kissed her so hard she thought she would lose her breath. Her lips throbbed from his after he pulled away from her, and put his arm about her.

The elevator was right on time and they walked into it. It was mirrored all around and she could see every angle of their bodies.

He kissed her again, this time she was not out of breath but wanted more even as he gave it. When they pulled away this time, he lifted her chin so she looked up at him.

“Are you going to obey me?”

“I am not getting married to you,” she stuck out a her tongue with insouciance.



photo via wikipedia


Wicked Wednesday #119 — Wrong Number

Severine sat on the plane moments before passengers were allowed on. There was a small meeting, as there was a new flight attendant, Barbara. Eleanora, her former nemesis cum co-worker had given her pause to stop thinking about her own life events. Apparently, Eleanora had been conducting an affair with one of the married pilots. Severine had noticed they seemed especially close, but figured it was because Eleanora was an exceptional flirt. But she had sexted him and sent the picture accidentally to his wife–his wife’s mobile was one number different than his. His wife was close with his bosses, and Eleanora was immeadiately terminated.
Severine could not say she was unhappy to see her go, as she got up to walk over to Barbara and start welcoming passengers onboard. As each passenger went by, she was reminded that Oscar was not going to be on the flight. It made her sad. She had not been on an airplane without him since they met.
New York had been everything she expected it to be. Seeing their previous lovers was a good thing, it made them not think heavily about what they were together. They could just be, and not hurt each other. He had dinner with her the night after she had spent the night with Rafe, asked her how she was.
As much as she had tried to resist Rafe, she broke down as soon as she saw him in the bathroom while she was out to dinner with Oscar. She fell apart and even as she broke down, she tried to have a semblance of togetherness.
But it was not there.
The first time they had sex, she tried to be blasé…but the next time when Rafe tugged at her hair and choked her the way she liked, she could no longer resist him. She kissed everything of him her lips could touch. Her lips went everywhere on him, but love she would not declare. She no longer believed in love, everything she knew of it was so easily broken. Love was a myth like unicorns, or maybe it had existed once like dodo birds. But for her it was nonexistent. Sex was another thing, sex was very much alive and well.
When every passenger was accounted for, she closed the door of the aircraft bound for Paris. She was very happy to be working the flight, and going home. New York was lovely. Her English was lovelier too, though heavily accented. But Paris was home. There was no place like home, sitting in her favorite café and lingering forever over a coffee.
Though she knew that if she closed her eyes, she would remember Oscar sitting beside her…or if she looked down in her cup, a tear might escape for Rafe.

More Wicked Wednesday here:


photo by f dot leonora