Sunday, July 27, 2014

Shut In Part 2

Picking up where we left off with Miguel and Tara last week. I know I said the story was less than 3,000 words but alas, as I always do, I went back and made some changes. Anyways, here we go. Part 3 (and final) next week!

What the hell?! Since I’m closer to the emergency button, I depress it and wait to hear the voice on the other end. Nothing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me”

“Power outage. The generators should kick in soon”

"I hope so”

“Desperate to get away from me?”

I look over at him again. He has a smirk on his face that doubles the effect of his handsome features. Yes, he’s gorgeous. 6’3” of Latino heat – dark wavy hair, deep brown eyes, white, perfect teeth and a fit body. He’s still an asshole though. I admit, when he first started working here I went a little googly-eyed like the rest of the women but he treated me like crap from the get go. Needless to say, I got over that crush pretty quickly.

“I just want to go home”

Obviously sensing my reticence, he leaves me alone for a while. I drop my purse on the floor and kick off my heels before I start pacing. I need to get out of here.

“Shouldn’t the generators have come on by now?”

“You’re right”

He pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it up to the ceiling.

“No signal. You?”

I dig into my purse and retrieve mine. I stare down at a blank screen. Fuck.

“Shit! Mine is dead”

I drop it back into my purse and resume my pacing.

“Nothing we can do but wait”

Wait? For how long? What if the power doesn’t come back on? No-one will be here until Monday! It’s already getting hot.  I feel the sweat trickling down my back. I remove my jacket and drop it next to my purse, then pull my blouse from my skirt. He removes his jacket and tie, dropping them to the floor also before rolling up his sleeves and undoing a few buttons.

“Huh…I’ve never seen you without your heels before”

I stop mid-pace and turn to him. Why won’t he just leave me alone?


“Nothing. You’re just not as tall as I thought”

Great. Now my height is a problem. I give up.

“You know what? I’m done. Nothing I do is ever good enough for you. I work my ass off every day. I’m the first one in and the last one to leave the office but no matter what I do, I can never get an A from the professor. Now I’m not tall enough. Why don’t you just fire me? Better yet, I’ll make it easy for you. I - ”

Before the word “quit” can leave my lips, they are silenced by his. What the hell?! I push at his chest and he pulls back.

“What are you doing?”

“What I’ve wanted to do for the past year”

He pulls me up against him and he leans in once more. I push at his chest again. What does he mean “for the past year”?

“I don’t understand”

Querida…I have tried to fight my attraction to you by being a cabrón. I’m sorry”


“An asshole…as I’m sure you’ve called me many times”


Wow…is this some playground shit or what? Pick on the girl you like until she goes off on you and then confess your feelings. Wait…no…this isn’t right.

“Get off me”

He steps back, surprised. I guess he’s never heard those words from a woman before.

“What are you doing? You’re my boss!”

“I’m sorry…but I can’t fight this anymore”

He moves forward, pinning me against the wall with his body. I draw in a sharp breath as I feel his erection on my thigh.

“I need you Tara”

“After making my life a living hell for a whole year, you think a kiss and a few words are going to get me to jump into bed with you?”

“Bed? I won’t last the rest of this elevator ride let alone wait to get you to a bed. I need to be inside you now”

Without invitation, he covers my lips again. This time, softly. I stand there like a statue. This can’t be real. Is there going to be a new season of Punk’d? The doors will open any moment and Ashton Kutcher will jump in and say this was all a joke. He pulls my hips against him and my mind goes blank. Ashton who? All at once, his musky, manly scent envelopes me and desire courses through my body. I moan and slide my hands around his neck. I kiss him back, suddenly overpowered by the need for him to rip my clothes off and fuck me right here in the elevator. His hands slide slowly up the curves of my waist, around to the small of my back, and down to grab my ass. He squeezes my cheeks with a moan.

“You are perfect”

He nips at my bottom lip, teasing it with his tongue. Where did he learn to kiss? Nobody is this good at kissing. Fuck. I can’t even think. I feel his hand on my breast and realize that he’s unbuttoned my blouse. He spins me around and pulls me up against him, breathing raggedly against my ear. He begins speaking in a low, seductive voice as he removes my blouse. It’s all in Spanish and I don’t understand a word but it’s sexy as fuck. I gasp as he roughly pulls the cups of my bra down and my breasts pop out. As he massages them, I grind against his erection. Air hisses through his teeth and he pinches my nipples.

“Jesus, Tara”

My knees are weak. I don’t know how much longer I can stand on my own. He grabs the hem of my skirt and drags it over my hips. He moans as he massages my thighs, snapping my garter belt against them. He moves up, cupping my pussy with a groan.

“So wet…God, why did I wait so long?”

He slips his fingers past the waistband of my soaking underwear and zeroes in on my clit.

“Fuck…oh fuck, right there”

I brace my hands against the wall as his fingers induce dizziness. My body is quivering and I know it won’t be long before he makes me come. He moves down, teasing my entrance with his middle finger. He nips at my earlobe and concentrates on my clit once more. My entire body shivers and I whimper.

“Don’t hold back Baby…I want to hear you”

I reach back and slide my palm down his very hard, very big package. He moans and begins to work my clit more vigorously. I’m close…just a few more…

“Oh my God!”

He holds me against his body as my orgasm rocks mine. He coos in my ear, telling me how good I feel and how much he wants me. Before I even stop shaking, he spins me around and attacks my lips. His tongue barges into my mouth, eagerly tasting. I tangle my tongue with his as I run my fingers through his thick, silky hair. He pulls away, fumbling in his pocket. I work on the buttons of his shirt, revealing a hard chest with a smattering of dark hair, and perfectly formed 6-pack abs. I gently trail my nails along his stomach and he moans as he rips open a condom packet. To move things along, I undo his belt, button, and zipper and reach inside. I delight at what I find there. I release him, wrapping my fingers around him. Now, he is perfect. I just want to eat him up.

“Tara, don’t”

The impatience in his voice lets me know that it’s not my touch that’s the problem. He rolls the condom on and gives me a look wrought with desire. He really does want me. He grabs my ass, lifts me off the floor, and I wrap my legs around his hips. He pulls at my clip and my blonde hair comes tumbling down.

“So beautiful, mi amor

He takes my nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. I moan as I feel him moving my panties to the side.

“So long I’ve waited…now you are mine…finally”



Wednesday, July 23, 2014


Another of my favorite lines from Beneath the Blue Moon. Ethan and Casey are two of my favorite characters. I enjoy them so much that I keep going back and adding to it even though I finished it months ago. Part 2 maybe??


Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Shut In. A short story...Part 1

This began as a simple writing exercise but my mind took the story elsewhere ;). It's a short, less than 3,000 words. Every week, I'll be posting a part of it until we get to the end. Here's the first page!

Asshole. As I walk past the deserted offices, I curse him in my head. Fucking asshole. That report was possibly the best one I’ve done in my entire career but no…it still wasn’t good enough for him. Making the changes he wanted took almost 5 hours. I look at my watch…10:15pm. After a hellish 14 hour work day I finally get to go home. He’s probably curled up with one of his usual hoochies somewhere while I’m here busting my ass for him. As I approach the elevator, I mentally kick myself. Thinking about him has made him magically appear. What the hell is he still doing here? He nods in acknowledgement.

“Miss Smith”

“Mr. Andres”

The elevator doors slide open and he motions for me to precede him. Oh, so now he’s being a gentleman? Please. I press the button for the ground floor and move to the back of the elevator. He walks to the other corner and leans on the rail running across the back wall. I watch the numbers light up as we descend. Two down, thirty three floors to go.

“So…any plans for the weekend?”

I look over at him incredulously. He wants to have small talk? He’s ruined every weekend for the past year and he wants to know if I have plans? Well I’m in no mood for a conversation, especially with him.


“With your boyfriend?”

Boyfriend? Because of you I haven’t had a decent date much less a relationship. Not having the time or energy to devote to anyone, my sex life is non-existent. Even my vibrator would break up with me if it could.


He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Quite voluble tonight, aren’t you?”

“I’m tired” I say accusingly. “I’m not in a talking mood”

I return my attention to the numbers above the doors. Suddenly, it goes dark and the elevator comes to a creaking halt.


Friday, July 18, 2014


I love books and I'm a hopeless romantic. Growing up, I read anything I could get my hands on. I'm a sucker for a good story. I began writing poems at around age 12. That fell by the wayside during college but it was never far from my mind. I started reading romance/erotica and thought to myself "I can do this" (ambitious huh? ;) ). I chose to use my first "real" heartbreak (boo hoo) as a starting point and my first novel was born. Looking at it now, it's very basic and it needs a lot of work but I don't think it was bad for a first try. Since then, I've been writing both short stories and full length novels. A couple of things you'll always find in my stories - hot guys, music, and a few tattoos here and there. Oh, can't forget the romance...and the sex! :). My style of writing is simple. I want my stories to (more or less) sound like a woman/man talking to her/his friends. I want them to be relatable. Readers should be able to identify with not only the emotions but also the language.

I'm not a published writer but it's something I'm looking into, at least self-publishing. I've created this blog, to showcase some of my work and to seek honest opinions. I'll be posting some of my short stories and snippets from full length ones. I hope you enjoy and thanks in advance for your comments/critiques.

Happy reading!

P.S. You can also check out (and like) my Facebook page.