Baby, it's cold outside... Holiday Flash

Good evening, my holiday Big Cats...in the mood for some egg nog and cheer...well, meow-ha! It’s not here...okay, moi is in a silly roll-with-the-playtoy mood.
Today, for Flash Fiction Sunday at Liquid Silver SEx blog, Mima was the hostess with the xxx-hot mostest!!! Mima has also received rave reviews for her recent release, Honor Within ~ a beast of a different erotic love story from Liquid Silver Books.

Just for the Big Cool Cats ~

HOLIDAY FLASH IN FIVE HUNDRED...

Santa Baby, Waitin’ Just for You...

Part Four ~

“Baby, it’s cold outside,” she whispered. The cold drift of air from the open door shivered her body momentarily. Feeling her nipples pucker and harden, Kaily glanced down. Maybe, he would think she was real glad to see him, since her nipples stood at attention like toy soldiers. Damnit, she hated being cold. But, it wasn’t like she could reach for her down comforter. Heckfire, the tree skirt was nothing more than shimmery white gauze.
Closing the door firmly, he stomped the crust of snow off his santa boots onto the entry rug. He’d cleared his driveway immaculately, but the park where he’d played Santa for the town’s children would have meant tromping through the six inches of snow that had fallen the day before. The drifting fat snowflakes had been a picture perfect scene for a white Christmas. Drinking cocoa, Kaily enjoyed it immensely while plotting out her daring escapade...certainly daring for her.
In the following silence, Kaily swore, it felt like a bowling ball landed on her mid-section. What was he doing? Did he somehow realize she was here? She’d been sneaky enough to walk most of the way as if out for a bracing wake-me-up stroll, which she often did when working on a long art project. Then she’d snuck between several houses, staying in the twilight shadows until she reached his back door. Only after making certain no one’s lights were on, did she make her way to the front door.
She swallowed, her mouth and throat drier than if she’d been wandering lost in the desert. What? Had she left a telltale strand of hair. Or left a mark from her own winter boot...
His steps so quiet, she barely heard them, he finally approached the arched opening into the parlor. Her eyelids squeezed together so hard she knew she couldn’t open them, unless by a Christmas miracle. If it was censure in his gaze, she didn’t want to see it, especially since he was dressed as Santa Clause. Even Nessie had directed him in what books and movies to watch as preparation, so he could portray jolly St. Nick himself.
Oh God, why didn’t he speak? Say anything...like ‘get dressed and get out’? Or...
“Is this a holiday tradition I’m not aware of?” The deep timbre of his voice covered her like velvet, but did little to warm her, she was so frightened...much more than she bargained for.
Her eyes popped open as if she’d just received her Christmas miracle. He leaned, not casually, against the archway frame, his arms folded like some damn arrogant king who observed her from afar. It struck her odd in the next instant that he actually expected a real answer to his question.
Where it came from she’d never know...but in the following moment she heard herself croon... “Santa baby, waitin’ just for you.”
Something flashed in his eyes, white-hot as lightning. His gaze covered her body like his voice, making her insides icy fire.
~~~~~~
Part One ~ see Holiday Flash in Five Hundred
Part Two ~ see Celebrating with Santa Baby
Part Three ~ see Santa Baby... Part Three ~

Note: If you enjoy purchasing books from ALL ROMANCE EBOOKS, the Kougar just discovered three of her novels were available, and did a cool cat strut...just paw-search for *Savanna Kougar* ...

Baby, it’s cold outside smooch from the Kougar...

Arrival of the Winter Were-Beast

Good late evening from the tame prairie, my Big Beautiful Cats...the Kougar is worn down to her clawed toesies by her long brutal, but successful hunting...er-mew...shopping trip into the little city. When the snows arrive and the temps are frigid, moi wishes the comfort of her meals without braving the nasty roads and traffic dangers. Just too darn *tail-slashing* bad the lovely late-fall sky with scudding streams of clouds was marred by the chemtrails playing a game of X marks the spot. However, the quarter moon hung high as an enchanting mist against the wintry blue sky...and later, once moi had returned home, the blue sky with scudding puffs of cloud, shone through the black-dark, nearly bare branches of an old and wise tree, a splendor that captivated the Kougar’s soul.

Just for the Big Cool Cats ~ from the Kougar’s WIP ~ Winter Were-Beast ~

“I do not believe this!” Krystal threw the tire jack, frustration owning her. Not hard, but hard enough that it jack-knifed the short distance and buried itself in the dirty snowbank. Clenching her fists, she shrieked, a restrained scream, then responsibly marched over to retrieve it. “I just had that damn tire fixed two effing days ago,” she snarled under breath. She plunged her ungloved hand into icy wetness. “Damn it to...” The crunching of re-frozen snow beneath the tires of an approaching vehicle halted her.
Grabbing the tire jack, her fingers threatening to become frostbitten, she tossed it back inside the toolbox, and dared to hope it was someone she knew, and could trust. All she needed, desperately needed, was a ride back into the small, art gallery town. As along as she could whip out her credit card, Jerry would obligingly tow in her middle-aged , faux wood-trimmed green van, the kind once adored by soccor moms before the latest models.
“Crap. Holy crap,” she whispered, recognizing the monster white SUV with all the bells and whistles men loved. It slowed down, stopping, rumbling a fine purr beside her tire-disabled van. The King of Art Galleries. As he was known in town because he owned three of them, partnered in four others, and created the kind of shaman-mystic art pieces snapped up by the East and West Coast buyers not to mention the parade of tourists from the area’s ski resorts grabbed them up as if they’d just bought back a piece of their soul.
How incredibly stupid, she reprimanded herself. She simply stood there practically gaping at him before he’d even stepped out, although the door was cracking open. Mentally arguing with herself over how she should address him, she watched him launch out the door with all the confidence of a man who was about to take charge. Most of the local women, especially the singles, called him ‘Rock’. Rather they sang it as if he held the secret to sexuality itself. As Jeannie, her gallery mentor, had said, ‘he looks like living breathing granite, or clay sculpted by Aphrodite’s hand, when she deigned to sculpt a lover’.
Although she’d always possessed an innate distrust of good-looking men, and avoided them like the proverbial plague, Krystal was not entirely immune to his over-the-top handsomeness. My God! He looked like a cross between a brawny Norse god and a sleek-racing Adonis. With skin of pale gold, with startling eyes of pale ice blue and a mane of hair that was the most unusual coloring she’d ever seen on a man. Platinum silver with thin streaks of raven black and larger streaks of deep red.
“Krystal,” he hailed her, his voice a deep virile rumble. She frowned at her flip-flopping insides. Shutting his door, he removed his mirror sunglasses, casually easing them in the pocket of his black ski jacket. From his attire he’d been on the slopes and was returning home or headed into town.
“Mr. Vhintner, got a flat tire. If you could just give me a lift...” Damn! he was huge standing right in front of her. Krystal had never actually been this close to him, even when he’d formally welcomed her to the Ninth Winds of Heaven Gallery six months ago, as one of their new artists.
“Let me take a look. Didn’t you have that repaired at Clark’s Auto Clinic?”
Geez! Talk about a piercing gaze. “Yep. Always do repairs on the van. No matter what. You know, better safe than sorry.”Hah, at least I wasn’t tongue-tied. And how the hell did he know about my tire?
Walking around her, he tromped on top of the snow she’d already tromped down into brown mush, her tall red leather boots proof of her desperate foray, and fortunately water-proof. Lowering down on his impressive haunches, his fantastically impressively muscled haunches, he gave the tire a cursory scan for a few moments, then stood, the epitome of graceful power.
“Whatever’s wrong, it wouldn’t inflate using the air compressor,” she offered, waving to the open panel door. “And I didn’t get any more of that inflation puff stuff...since I used it the last time.”
“Inflation puff stuff?” he repeated, approaching her, his mouth turning up in a small lazy grin.
Krystal dragged her gaze away from his gorgeous lips, and wished for an instant she was a portrait painter. “Whatever...” she shrugged one shoulder. “The foam inflation stuff.”
“You didn’t try to jack up your van up, did you?” His voice almost scolded, growled at her.
“Thought it might help,” she murmured, swivelling her face back to him. He stared down at the toolbox inside the van. With utter authority, he shut the door, then opened her passenger door, retrieving her purse and her large purple duffel bag.
“I’ll call ahead for a tow. Come on.” He took possession of her arm guiding her toward the SUV’s passenger door. It was like being handled by a sexy-as-sin gentle giant. Where the heck had her breath gone to? Disappeared into the rainbow ethers of her fantasy paintings. Krystal answered herself as she often did.
Handing her within, he patiently waited until she was settled before placing the duffel bag at her feet and the purse on her lap, then closing the door. Her breath stuck in her throat, Krystal followed his long strides to the other side.
What in amazing hell was she doing inside his SUV? The subtle scent of his cologne, his male-intoxicating scent aroused what she called her wanton hormones. Krystal clutched her purse as if it were some kind of magic shield destined to save her from his evil prowess. She nearly jumped when he opened the door, sliding into his seat with the languid grace of a Big Cat.
~~~~~
Weary, but warm kisses from the Kougar...

Santa Baby... Part Three ~

HOLIDAY FLASH IN FIVE HUNDRED...

Santa Baby, Waitin’ Just for You...

Part Three ~

Hearing another car pull up behind him, Kaily shrieked inside. Oh no! Her heart on speed dial she moved as fast as the ribbon’s constriction would allow, then plucked the drape aside, just enough to peek out the side window. Oh, that so figured. Barbie Nelson, dressed in her skimpy elf’s costume had him held hostage against the roadster’s door. A plate of her holiday banana bread pressed into the white fur trim of his santa suit. She was probably envisioning his hard-muscled stomach as she blabbed non-stop...no doubt inviting herself in for a taste of him. Omygawd...I need a place to hide if Barbie makes it inside. Where? Twisting around, she glanced around the front parlor. Damn, the only place was behind the Christmas tree, itself...and knowing her, she’d knock it over, then be standing their in the buff, gift-wrapped, in front of them both with the exquisitely decorated tree in shambles. She would have tried for another room, but he’d probably catch her as he came in, since she’d have to go through the hallway.
Trapped, Kaily shivered, peering outside again. Barbie still babbled, her face practically beneath his. Given she was a petite thing, her neck was practically at a right angle. But then, if Barbie did keep up the flirtatious chatter, maybe she could sneak inside another room...oops, too late. Dillon took hold of the plate, and made a strong move to escape, simultaneously lowering his fake beard. He gentlemanly lifted her hand to his lips and pecked a kiss. Whatever he said to her must have worked. Barbie tittered, then sashayed away. He waited until she had started her engine and pulled away before heading for the door.
Her heart threatening to leap out of her chest and her palms sweating suddenly, Kaily toddled toward the illumined tree. The faux candle flames provided a mellow golden radiance as she struggled to lie down, then arrange herself in what she hoped was seductive pose. Feeling the bow between her breasts, she grabbed at it, her nerves skittering crazily. Not really thinking, she planted it over her pussy...maybe it was her subconscious’s last ditch effort at decency...but then, maybe he would bypass the parlor, go into another room, head up the stairs. And she would be stuck down here trying to figure out a way to leave. Omygawd, oh no, had she forgotten to lock the door...maybe he would think a burglar had robbed the place...although, that was such a rarity, no one could recall when it had last occurred.
His footsteps bounded upward toward the door, as if he were impatient to get inside. Kaily’s rapid breaths stuck in her throat. Omygawd...omygawd, what was she doing?
And too bad she couldn’t say something whispery sexy like Marilyn Monroe...Happy Holidays, Mr. Santa Claus...give him that pouty look of passion...do you see anything under the tree you want to unwrap?
The door swung open. He entered...

Part One ~ see Holiday Flash in Five Hundred
Part Two ~ see Celebrating with Santa Baby

Big Holiday smooch from the Kougar...

Theme Day Friday ~ OtherWorlds

Good Cold Evening, my Big KitKats, please enjoy the pic of Wintersong Holiday Horse from Breyer.
The Kougar is in recovery over her recent edits. However, she has worked up her promo for ~

***Siren-BookStrand Theme Day ~ Friday 5th & Saturday 6th December***
OTHER WORLDS - take the reader to new stars and planets where anything can happen.
OTHER PEOPLE - can give us grief or pleasure beyond our wildest dreams.
OTHER PLACES - can be new beginnings or returns, where things have changed forever.
OTHER TIMES - the past, the future, the alternative present.
All levels of heat and intensity. All dedicated to passion and desire.
Come join us on the adventure! Visit the Siren-Bookstrand Public Group at ~ http://groups.yahoo.com./group.SirenBookstrand ~
***
Just for the Big Cool Cats first ~ and the excerpts are new, except for a portion of the excerpt from Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~

Theme - OtherRealm - World of the Blue Pearl Moon

*** ALL SHADES OF BLUE PARADISE ***

SET-UP ~ Tarimudhi,,,in Zag and Sher’s world this is a private enjoyment of the men exclusively, to gather with their cigars and preferred liquor...and to do as they erotically please with their women.

Beast demand, he plucked her nipple, tugged her clit, carnal pleasured by his woman.
“Zag, please.” Blaze desperation possessed her flesh.
“Say it, Sher,” he growled his devil power over her.
“Yes!” she screamed the whisper. “Yes, please.”
Zag jerked her swollen nub. Hard. Several times. He grabbed her breast.
Sheridan froze to blazing wildness, her pleasure stilled to nothing.
“Take my pleasures. Say it, my slave lover.”
Arrogantly, he rubbed his thumb over her clit, juicy, sultry for him. His.
As she was his. He rubbed, building her arousal again.
Irrevocable devil, she knew. If she spoke those words, he would take her over and over. The blazes too high, too wicked, too wanton ecstatic, she finally surrendered.
“Take my pleasures,” she whispered her whimper.
Zag slowly, arrogantly scraped his nail over her bud hard clit.
Sheridan twisted. The zenith blaze consumed her. Ecstasy consumed her. Whole, free and soaring.
Zag lifted his writhing woman into his arms, lifting her above the turquoise shimmer of her gown. Bared to him, except for her slippers, her jewelry.
He carried her within the inner sanctum of the Tarimudhi, toward his reigning chair.
~~~
The World of the Blue Pearl Moon–A world of lush erotic decadence, where the fiercest passions between a woman and a man need never be denied. A world of potent seductive arts, where every appetite is served in the salons and the lavish entertainments. A world of wicked and resplendent pleasures, where the love between a man and a woman is a sensual lusty affair, soaring up to the radiant blue vault of sky.
~~~
It's a blue, blue paradise for Christmas...
Lady Sheridan & Baron Zaggry invite you to read their love story ~
ALL SHADES OF BLUE PARADISE ~ an aristocratic fantasy of fiercest passion ~ *5 Stars* from ReviewYourBook ~ available from Siren Publishing ~ http://www.sirenpublishing.com/savannakougar/asobp.asp ~
An Author Discovery by Lindsay Townsend ~ http://sirenbookstrand.blogspot.com ~

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Theme - OtherTimes - Winter 2012, End of the Mayan Calendar

*** WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ***

What will occur on that magical and mystical winter solstice date of December 21, 2012 ~ that final day of the Mayan calendar?
Well...here’s a future radio broadcast as Maya Toga Days begin, banned in the North American Union...

“Who are these two? Futuristic black cycle, futuristic weapons, looked like the latest chase thriller for awhile. My nerves were on the razor’s edge.
Have we got a 2012 Bonnie and Clyde? They haven’t been accused of robbing anything that we’ve been told about.
Did you see it, folks? No doubt they were headed west, our direction, the city of Angels. A Mayan 2012 surprise? Call in, tell me your psychic impressions. Or tell us if you know anything. What do you think? Did they make it? Are they still out there?
There’s been no news of capture. Or any news that they escaped. If you two can hear my voice, and can call in safely, if you can, the NightHawk family wants to hear from you. Your story.
Or, better yet, if you are headed for LA., come by the studio. We’ll know
who you are. Remember, this broadcast doesn’t end for the next thirty-six
hours. The Maya 2012 countdown has begun.”
~~~
Just in time for Christmas, Christmas in 2012, that is...
Sedona & Volcano invite you to read their love story ~
WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth...Is a stranger on a superspeed motorcycle her savior from the brutal endtimes? ~ available from BookStrand ~ http://bookstrand.com/authors/savannakougar ~ http://bookstrand.com ~ An Author Discovery by Lindsay Townsend ~ http://sirenbookstrand.blogspot.com ~
Volcano’s Angelic Forecast for this week ~ http://sirenbookstrand.blogspot.com ~

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Theme - OtherPlaces - Gardenia, New Atlantis

*** MURDER BY HAIR SPRAY IN GARDENIA, NEW ATLANTIS ***

The story of beginning a new world on a legendary land...
The beginning of a love Sheriff Kalypso Sun Wing never believed was possible for her, especially not after a hundred years on Earth...
The beginning of a love Federal Agent Zryphus has arrived on Earth to find, only he didn’t plan on remaining in a land where women are in charge...

Gardenia, small town/colony in New Atlantis, 2051 ~

“Amazon warrioress paradise,” Zryphus enthused.
His voice, both gravelly and velvet, definitely fluttered her insides.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it yet. Not everyone is welcome here as a permanent resident. Coffee?” she asked to change the subject. She’d heard Zerculeons guzzled the stuff. Seeing one of her favorite people, Kalypso waved her inside. “Cora, what perfect timing. Come on in. Thanks, I do need my brew. Meet Agent Vasquoz.”
Taking the mug, she smiled at Cora, then gratefully sipped her chocolate cinnamon brew. For a moment, she shut her eyes and savored. Cradling the bowl-shaped mug, she tossed back her pony tail. It helped ease the tension at the back of her neck.
“Agent, can I get you anything? We have about any ole’ beverage you can imagine here,” Cora tempted, sweet as pecan pie. “I am the hostess with the mostest.”
“Organic, take advantage, Top Dog. Your taste buds will thank you,” Kalypso urged, proud of the town, and the sovereign land she had helped create—so long ago when Atlantis had risen.
“Why come on over here, Agent Vasquoz, I have a short list of what I can get for you.”
Watching him move toward Cora, Kalypso took a large long taste of her brew, and remembered what she would never forget.
Entranced, her spirit soaring with new hope, she’d watched the antediluvian lands emerge from the hurricane-whipped ocean, while hidden in the shadow of a New York City tenement building. Despite the last days of the Conflicts, everyone who could, had paused and stared up at one of the mammoth plasma screens, used for propaganda and mind control.
The whispers of what occurred, had turned to wildfire, and couldn’t be stopped
Atlantis had risen again.
While she watched the screen, the ground beneath her feet had shuddered, as if the planet was a giant dog shaking off fleas. To prove it was not another shower of buster bombs shaking the remaining cities on the East Coast, the three-day miracle had been shown only as updates, at first.
On the third day, the full land of Atlantis had roared from the seas like Poseidon seeking his former empire. From the islands of Cuba, north to Savannah, Georgia, the antediluvian land shone beneath the breaking sun as a new Atlantis.
At the first glimpse of sun rays touching one peak, and while leviathan waves crashed, spewing enormous sprays of mist, the shudders of destiny had stormed through Kalypso, with all the strength of the spinning rainstorm that still raged over most of the renewed land.
Before any other groups dared to explore, she and her militia, and several other friendly rebel militias, had colonized, agreeing to begin a new country, based on their shared ideals.
Taking another long sip of her brew, Kalypso ended her memories, and observed the Federal Agent through her lowered lashes.
~~~~~~~~~
Kalypso & Zryphus invite you to read their love story ~
MURDER BY HAIR SPRAY IN GARDENIA, NEW ATLANTIS ~ 2051 mystery-suspense futuristic ~ coming from Siren-BookStrand ~ http://bookstrand.com ~

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OtherRealm kisses from the Kougar...

Celebrating with Santa Baby...

Whew! My Big Beautiful Cats, the edits are finally finished, and Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis, has been claw-sent off to Siren-BookStrand, all 104, 254 words of it...

The Kougar is celebrating with the next five hundred flash ~ just for her and the Big Cool Cats ~

Santa Baby, Waitin’ Just for You...

Part Two ~

Kaily hung the bow between her breasts, for now. Thinking her freshly washed hair could use more of a *take me to the bedroom* look, she shook her head vigorously, then swiped her fingers through the long strands several times. “Tousled enough,” she murmured. Of course, who knew whether he liked tousled or not. He hadn’t dated any of the single women in town, four of them. He hadn’t put the moves on any of the married women, or the gossip would have burned her ears off, by now, like a flamethrower. But then, he hadn’t dated any of the men, either. The bragging would have been as flamboyant as the town’s holiday-decorated square, a blend of old-fashioned, the kid’s favorite ornaments and ostentatious purchases from the nearest Wal-Mart.
No secret affairs she could discover, either. She’d waded through the bushes several times around midnight, peeking in more than a few windows, only witnessing polite scenes centered around fixing up the Victorian, or learning more about it’s history.
His charm impeccable, Dillon had been the guest of nearly everyone in town, even her parents, who knew about the last occupants of the Victorian, having grown up with them. Kaily had swiftly made up an excuse about helping Davie with his reading lessons, then had offered to take care of Davie, so her sister and her husband could take in a movie that was labeled ‘adult’, not just pg-13 Disney. Knowing she had no further information to offer him, she’d chickened out *squawk, squawk* big time. She could just see herself, staring at him ridiculously while trying to ask leading questions like a TV prosecutor. Hell, if she’d been as talented as Alan Shore on Boston Legal, she would have given it a shot. Or, if she’d had any talent at all with subtly seducing men, which she didn’t, she would have put on her tightest, bosom-exposing cashmere sweater and her shortest decent skirt...well, that chance was long gone. No, she’d shown up just as her parents were glad-handing him on his way out the door...and as they all chuckled over ‘what’ she never knew. Giving him a bright smile, she’d nervously fiddled with her necklace, made up something about Davie’s progress, then wished him a ‘good evening’. He’d settled his gaze on her face, his unusually colored eyes...like an expensive brandy she’d once sipped...had seemed interested in penetrating through her defenses. He’d asked about her latest painting. She’d blurted out it was close to being finished, and the logo company was eager to start printing up t-shirts. Somehow she found herself walking beside him to his stunning reproduction roadster. To her shame she knew the sound of his engine better than her own. He’d hesitated as if he were about to ask her something, before sliding onto the seat. His powerful grace had reminded her of an African lion on the hunt...
Hearing the distinct purr of his roadster turning onto the drive, Kaily froze.

Celebration smooches from the Kougar...

Pink Tangerine Sundown ~ Blocking My Sun

Oh, Beautiful Big Cats, it was a pink tangerine sundown today on the Kougar’s tame prairie. On the darkened horizon the rounded blaze left by the sun’s departure looked like a fusion of pink neon and tangerine...so amazingly beautiful the Kougar simply stared in wonder...just above sundown the sky shone, a radiant teal blue while the bright crescent moon graced the appearance of Venus, so gleaming-brilliant, the Kougar felt utterly enchanted...close by the dimmer light of Jupiter completed the trine alignment of heavenly bodies, and made the Kougar sigh with appreciation...for her home, for Earth...for the paradise Earth is, if we could all defeat the current evils in this world by caring more about each other than the stuff we think we want... The Venus ~ Jupiter Alignment, pic on Coast-to-Coast am...
--Loren Evans from Denver, Colorado

Blocking My Sun... Flash of Sun and Beach

ONE
All alone. She sighed with complete satisfaction, and planted her elbows in the beach’s almost too-hot sand. The surf shone brilliantly, green turquoise with thin lines of iridescent bubbles on the rolling gentle edges. Sorrenna wore her favorite red bikini just in case. So far, no one else had intruded.
She reclined back basking in the burning delicious rays of the sun, with only her thin towel between her and the sugar-fine incredible sand that conformed to her body. Was this a slice of heaven, or what? She smiled, let her eyelids flutter closed and relaxed.
“You’re blocking my sun.”

TWO
The snarl in her voice should have warned him. She didn’t bother glancing up at him, or moving her perfectly curved body–designed for every carnal sin he’d ever had in mind. As he knew it would be. He’d been tailing her the past three weeks for a business client. Suddenly she’d left the city on vacation. The Dragon Lady of the corporate world, who advised when to fold ‘em and when to hold ‘em. When to expand. When to cut back.
Drave couldn’t believe his luck, even though luck favored him like blossoms attracted bees.
“Gonna do anything about it?”

THREE
Sorrenna ignored the crude insolent challenge. From his overwhelming potent smell as he baked in the high tropical sun, she figured he was muscled and male to the core. Sensually arching like a happy cat, she settled even more comfortably in her sand bed, deciding her best strategy was to wait him out. Men like him weren’t noted for their superior patience when dealing with the opposite sex. Still, it was more than annoying that he blocked her sunlight with his obviously huge body. Not one ray touched her skin.
“If I’d wanted shade, I would have brought an umbrella.”

FOUR
Drave had spotted her leaving the flower-prettified bar next to the lobby of his vacation hotel hangout, as he’d been checking in. He’d quickly thrown cash, practically dumped his bag on the bell hop, then stripped down to his suit when his feet hit the sand.
His breath hitched as she moved, tantalizing him brutally with not one thought of doing so. Scenes of her naked and writhing on his bed while he plundered her body with his, exploded in his head. Not to mention his loins exploded to instant need.
Down, he ordered his cock.
“Consider me your sun.”

FIVE
Sorrenna deigned to open one eye. All she saw was tree trunk-sized bronze legs.
After hissing a long impatient sigh, she reluctantly rolled over and wiggled into a comfortable position. It so figured. Finally she’d been able to sneak off on vacation and now this impossible lout wanted to be her ‘sun’. Maybe if she slipped into a nap, maybe if she snored, he’d get the hint pounded through his obviously thick skull like a damn ten inch nail.
Drowsiness seeped into her limbs along with the warmth of the sand. He didn’t leave.
“You’re a damn shade tree. Move.”

SIX
Drave stared at her voluptuous ass, so round and such a blatant invitation, with only a red strip of cloth in his way. He groaned silently. His entire body growled for her, a damn bear claiming a honey-filled tree. He forced himself not to grab his cock, rising like a sentinel on watch in enemy territory.
Front or back, she was the kind of woman a man watched, raised up his on fists, while his cock took her with long pillaging thrusts. While she moaned with extreme pleasure. And let him do whatever he wanted with her.
“I can’t move.”

A LARGE GLASS

SEVEN
Effing annoyed, Sorrenna stifled a massive sigh. Deciding to open one eye, she reluctantly peeked out the corner. Good God! The man’s organ towered like a friggin’ utility pole. Instantly her brain flashed a scenario of her saying, timber, as if she’d just sawed it off and the enormous pole now fell on top of her. Even worse, the ridiculous urge to cover herself with her arm almost caused her to do it. Forcing her casual reach, she idly lifted the corner of her towel, then pressed the electronic waiter.
“Large glass of ice water. As soon as possible, please.”

EIGHT
Ice water. For an instant his brain froze as if she’d just dumped ice water on his head. In another firing of his neurons, he realized that wasn’t the head she was planning on freezing with her large glass of ice water. What the fuck hell now? He wasn’t leaving. His feet wouldn’t move. And, damn, his cock felt like an anchor effectively weighing him down to the spot. Not like he could hoist himself, despite the lack of other patrons, and sail away. Mentally, he shook himself, thinking through the heavy carnal fog.
“Raoul, over here. I’ll get it.”

NINE
Sorrenna froze as if he’d drenched her with a barrel of ice water. Her heart pounded painfully. Now what? The odious beast blocked her sun. And blocked what she’d yearned for since the beginning of summer. To be alone, damnit! On vacation. Fury whipped through her, and she whipped around. Good god, it was even more humongous. Up close. And way too personal. She felt like her eyes crossed as she stared at his cock. Hell, no wonder he couldn’t move. A ton of cock weighed him down. She wanted to ask him if he’d ever considered reduction surgery.
“Leave.”

TEN
Her voice blazed ice and rage, and sliced up his middle. Her gaze trained on his cock, however, had him happier than a callow youth noticed by his first crush. Fuck, her full high breasts still jiggled, barely contained by the red scraps of material. There wasn’t one part of her body his cock didn’t want. Raoul placed the large glass of ice water in his waiting hand, said nothing, and quickly departed. Drave figured he had only three options. Pour the water out. Pour it down his pants. Or let her pour it on his cock.
“Your ice water.”

ELEVEN
Sorrenna snapped her hand forward, grabbed the ice water, and felt it nearly slip from her grip because of the cold sweating glass. Hanging on tightly, she scowled more formidably, as she held up the glass in a warning for him to leave or suffer the consequences. When he stood steadfast, refusing to un-root himself, she rose to her knees. Grinning with dark glee, she targeted his giant cock with her gaze. Slowly, with his torment in mind, she lifted the glass higher and higher, until it hovered directly above the jut of his trunks. Then she poured. Gradually.
“Enjoying?”

TWELVE
Clenching his eyes shut, and chomping his teeth together as if he bit the bullet, Drave let the icy agony take over his body. God. Hell, what ugly pain and what unexpected pleasure. The strange ecstasy stabbed through his cock, then flooded his loins. He quaked inside, the visual of her wrist turning the full glass of water so it spilled in a small stream onto the head of his cock, then the dream-like darkening of his trunks...weirdly, as erotic as hell. Even as the cold burned his balls like hellfire.
Shock, he decided. But fuck, he ‘enjoyed’.
“Yes.”

ANOTHER GLASS?

THIRTEEN
Yes, his answer clanged through her like an antique fire engine bell. She knew it was also an emergency warning. This man was dangerous. Dangerous to her. Dangerous on every level. Although his utility pole cock had diminished in size. Not much. Still, the thrill of some victory bubbled through her veins. Gradually, she surfed her gaze up his body, noting the bloodless clench of his fists. The tough bands of bronze muscle. The dark V of hair on his chest. The swimmer’s breadth of his shoulders. Finally, the determined V shape of his chin.
“Another glass of ice water?”

FOURTEEN
Hell, he didn’t like it. But he’d stand her all day letting her pour whatever she wanted on his begging cock. Even though shards of pain blistered along his length. He felt her slow perusal up his body, as if erotic razor blades cut up his torso. He clenched his eyelids savagely, the image of her lips tasting him, soothing him. First, sliding over his cock’s head. Blood poured into his loins, threatening to raise the sentinel again. Fuck! He wanted to tell her to lower his trunks, to put her sweet sexy mouth on his cock and suck.
“Please.”

FIFTEEN
Damn fucking dangerous. And a glutton for icy punishment. Sorrenna figured, why not? At least, if she couldn’t enjoy the sun, she could perversely entertain herself. Especially, since he seemed so stupidly willing. Dolt. What a dolt head. Actually, from her position, she couldn’t see his head. Only his clean-shaved tanned chin, stalwart, male stubborn. And the big lobes of his ears. But, not his head. Or his cock’s head. Though, the enormous spear-like tip was outlined by his wet trunks.
Sitting back on her heels, she plucked up the e-waiter device.
“Another glass of ice water, extra large, please.”

SIXTEEN
Damn, he shivered inside like a wind-buffeted leaf. Feeling again, the blaze-icy sting of water being poured on his pleading arousal. God, he wanted it again. And he didn’t. He wanted to watch her stream the erotic torture over his cock. But hell, not more than he wanted to jump her lusciously curved bones. Feel her struggle wildly beneath him, as he pleasured her to wanting him so desperately, she writhed like an utter wanton. Against his entire body. Then parted her wet thighs, crying for him to ride her to orgasm, into their oblivion. Theirs, alone.
“Yes, extra large.”

SEVENTEEN
Hell, she’d give his towering manhood its obvious due. It was definitely ‘extra large’. Crap, the whole man was extra large in stature. Or he wouldn’t be blocking her sun so effectively. Damn, she’d need an extra large glass of extra icy water to shrink that son o’ shooting sperm. Sorrenna nearly laughed hysterically. An image of her rolling, holding herself, laughing until her sides hurt grabbed her mind’s eye. Come to think of it, maybe that would cut it down to size. If she suddenly fell over in a screaming fit of laughter. Timber!!!
“Extra large for extra large.”

EIGHTEEN
Even though her voice dripped with a healthy dose of sarcasm, Drave’s ‘extra large’ bobbed appreciatively, straining the waistband of this trunks. Fucking hell, at least, her gaze remained fastened on his brave cock. But was that a suppressed giggle he’d heard? He bent forward, peering past the wet tent of his trunks to study her face. Her shoulders began to shake slightly, as if she controlled herself. She chewed on her cherry-plump bottom lip. And he would have bet a hefty sum, laughter glittered in her eyes. Hysterical laughter. Now the gorgeous swells of her breasts quivered.
“Go ahead.”

EXTRA LARGE LAUGH

NINETEEN
Go ahead? Had she heard right? Her stifled giggles escaped like small bubbles. At first. Her shoulders shook faster. Then her laughter burst free, springing up from deep inside her belly. Louder and louder. Hugging herself Sorrenna collapsed back on her heels. Her laughter erupted uncontrollably, cascades of rising sound. Whenever she managed to open her eyes, she only laughed harder, since the wet jut of his trunks remained impressively the same. Extra large, his cock still towered above her. Although, his balled fists were now white beneath his tan.
Sorrenna laughed as if she hadn’t laughed in ages.
“Timber.”

TWENTY
Timber?! Drave arched one brow, even as he ogled the sheer sexual beauty of her jiggling breasts like a damn deprived pervert. Her uninhibited laughter should have shrunk his libido down to a lesser size, and made his trunks feel a hell of a lot more comfortable. Nope. Like a besotted fool, he relished the sight of her unrestrained reaction to him, even though she howled harder every time she glanced at his unsinkable cock. My god, the delicate, yet lush line of her creamy throat, revealed as she laughed, tempted his mouth to consume her with kisses.
“Timber?...oh.”

TWENTY-ONE
Laughter threatening to split her sides, Sorrenna fell over on her side, her arms wrapped around herself. She rolled back and forth, the hot sand beneath her towel a wonderful cushion, and not a deterrent whatsoever to her unceasing chortles. Faster and faster, she shook with her shrill guffaws. God, it hurt, and she couldn’t make it stop. And it felt good all at the same time. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. Now all she could do was lay weakly on her back, with absolutely no sun shining on her, and laugh.
“Make it stop. Go away.”

TWENTY-TWO
No with a capital N, he wasn’t going away. Yeah, fuck, he could make ‘it stop’. Damn hell, he wanted to make it stop. But she’d never let him near her bed, let alone her precious all-perfect life, if he launched on top of her like a raunchy humping dog, and ravished her to a raw blazing lust. Here. In front of everyone. On a public beach. Not that he’d mind. He didn’t care with her. Truth to God. All he hellfire cared about was her. Having her. Fucking her forever.
“If I go away, I can’t make it stop.”

TWENTY-THREE
If you go AWAY, it will stop, she desperately wanted to shout at the brainless male who looked like he could be a man-bull hybrid. But, her vocal chords refused to cooperate. Nearly exhausted, and boneless as a ragdoll, Sorrenna opened one eye. It was still there and still damned extra large. Helplessly, she vibrated with more chuckles. Some crappy unhappy vacation, she thought, yet, shook with more laughter. God, her sides hurt. Hell, her hand was so limp on her belly, she couldn’t lift it. Damn, except for her uninhibited laughter, her vacation had taken a vacation.
“Get lost.”

TWENTY-FOUR
Lost in you. Lost between your sexier-than-heaven thighs. Lost between the gorgeous swells of your breasts. Yeah, baby doll, I’ll get lost. Lost in you until your pussy begs and bucks for my hammering cock. Drave accepted the giant-sized glass of ice water, the cubes rattling against the sides of the sweating glass as he brought it before his chest. His cock didn’t know whether to shrivel like a coward or do an erotic bobbing happy dance. God, she was the perfect temptress as she lay still, conquered by her own laughter
“You’ll get lost every time I kiss you.”

ICY DOSE...

TWENTY-FIVE
Yeah, sure. In what universe? Yet, her traitorous lips tingled, a tiny bit. It had been ages since she’d kissed a man. Balefully, and with one eye, she stared at the extra large glass of water above the man’s extra proud cock. Rivulets of moisture ran down the sides of the glass. Dripping down his beefy-sized, yet somewhat attractive hand. It was just too damn bad, for her, she’d laughed herself into exhaustion. Or, she could rise up and give his Mr. Extra Large another icy dose of her extreme displeasure. If he handed it over.
“Save me the trouble.”

TWENTY-SIX
Drave fastened his gaze on her, as he’d never done on anyone or anything in his life. Even when facing down the bad guys, holding weapons bigger than he held, who wanted like every fucking hell, to take him apart piece by bloody-dripping piece. Then throw him to the fishes. The urge to turn the glass over, and slowly pour a stream of icy water on her gorgeous middle, then dive down and lap it off her silken skin, before one drop escaped, scorched through him hotter than the sun.
“Hell, I am blocking your sun. You should thank me.”

TWENTY-SEVEN
His words rolled roughly over her flesh. And his bold stare penetrated her like she knew Mr. Extra Large wanted to penetrate her. Still recovering from her laughing fit, Sorrenna considered how to resolve her galling ridiculous situation. Mr. Determined Bull was not the type of man a woman appealed to for mercy from his humping lust. Quirky inspiration struck her the next moment. With the double whammy of her curiosity. Why not? She eyed the water glass for several seconds, then slid her gaze down to his cock. Then up. Then down again.
“Does it look like a bull?”

TWENTY-EIGHT
From her silent communication, Drave nearly dumped the glass of ice water on his own desperate cock, fiercely surprising himself. Still, her question stunned him even more. And he fucking figured, it had stunned her too. By her frozen expression, and the flash of wild fright in her eyes, quickly replaced with defiance. In a fraction of a second, he decided. Gritting his teeth, he slowly saturated the front of his trunks with icy water, outlining his desire for her. His cock complained, aching like fire.
“ Does it look like a bull? Or, am I bull-sized? What do you think?”

TWENTY-NINE
Never had Sorrenna felt so utterly still. She couldn’t feel her breath. For a cock, it did make somewhat of a majestic impression, in all it’s icy soaked glory, she had to admit. Effing hell, not that she knew much about a man’s penis, not being an avid *drooling* connoisseur of the male anatomy. Damn beyond damn, why had she impulsively blurted out a private thought? It had impaled her brain like a lightning bolt? Then leapt from her lips. What was she supposed to do now? Actually answer Mr. Extra Large’s questions?
“More like a marble monument, I think.”

THIRTY
It was his turn to bust a gut laughing. Drave allowed the corners his mouth to curl upwards, briefly. Too bad his ‘marble monument’ ached, burned viciously. Too fucking bad his cock strained toward her like a barbarian who’d finally found a woman after years of deprivation...or, he would let loose. Boom with guffaws. Shake the sun-drenched air. Fall beside her, and quit blocking her sun. Then touch her.
No, his restrained laughter quivered his stomach muscles, because his needy greedy cock ruled. Ready to mount her senseless.
“I’ll donate my marble monument to your private museum. Delivery date?”

DRINKS LATER...

THIRTY-ONE
Enjoying his clever-enough innuendo, Sorrenna allowed a small smile to curve her lips. Damn his giant blocking hide, it might be an invitation, yet his incredible perseverance would likely continue, whether she grinned, or not. He returned her smile in kind. Hell, at least, he looked at her face. Not just her body. Perseverance was a quality she admired, even if Mr. Extra Large’s bullish behavior was boorish in the extreme. In point of fact, she could use a man like him as a silent member of her investigations team.
“Go away now. I’ll have a drink with you later.”

THIRTY-TWO
Her little smile did things to his insides, his best lovers hadn’t done in bed, or wherever they’d fucked. Groaning inwardly, he shut his eyes, her plump beautifully-shaped mouth a torment he couldn’t endure, without straddling her like a mad mating bull, and taking her unwilling lips. God as his witness, he wanted her. Bad. Bad to the bone. His bone of aching cock, that refused to give up hope, it was going for a long sweet hot ride inside her sultry heat. Soon. He groaned inwardly again, a special agony coursing up his torso. A damn drink later...
“Promise?”

THIRTY-THREE
Promise. He wanted her to promise him she would have a drink with him...yes. However, the way he’d spoken it, he also wanted her promise that she would be his willing sexual prize, afterwards. For an instant, she stared unblinking at his stalwart frame, obviously not deprived of the sun’s benefits, since his skin was bronzed. Her eye traveled from his who-cares-if-you-kick-me shins upwards. And, she wished the sex-crazed idiot would, at least, turn to the side, so the sun could shine above the tip of his lance-like cock. So, she wouldn’t be deprived.
“Want a specially engraved invitation?”

THIRTY-FOUR
‘Yeah, written right on the hard length of my cock with your nails, baby doll.’ Fuck, anything to ease the pulsing agony. Her cute little nails carving out a special invitation, seemed a lot less painful, than his unrelieved manhood. Still, Drave liked her grit, hell, almost as much as he liked her beautifully curvaceous body. ‘Like’ being an available word, that barely covered the way he really felt. But, damn, yes, he wanted an engraved invitation from her, simply because it meant she’d show up. And he had to have that.
“Yes. As special as you can make it.”

THIRTY-FIVE
Sorrenna knew crazy hit her like a sledgehammer. Maybe she should count herself lucky, he hadn’t hit her with his built-in sledgehammer. Thwack! If he swung that thing. She’d probably be sent flying. Well hell, at least, he hadn’t flashed the damn thing naked at her. Not yet. She tried to dispel the dense cloud of crazy overwhelming her brain. She really did. Composed and in control, nerves of ice, that was her preferred style...usually. She had her wild, blazing out of control side, the times when she let hair down...
“Kneel down, if you want it really special.”

THIRTY-SIX
Drave knew trouble was about to hit him like a ten ton truck. Hell, trouble was about to back up and roll over him several times, just to teach him a lesson he wouldn’t learn. The ten ton truck being her. The woman he longed to capture beneath him forever. ‘Kneel down’, at her words his cock had beat against his trunks like a savage. What was she going to do? Fuck, order another glass of ice water, then torment his already tormented cock. He sank to his knees beside her, his body desperate for action.
“I want it special.”

December 2, 2008

GET IT SPECIAL...

THIRTY-SEVEN
You’re gonna get it special, Sorrenna thought. Her jaw firmed, her hands and body tensed for action as he took a few steps, then crashed his knees into the sand beside her. For a delicious moment she was blinded by the sun. Shutting her eyes, she smiled, basking in the paradise she had craved, the warm rays striking her flesh. Until he leaned forward. His enormous shadow fell on her, blocking her sun. Fury seized every particle of her. She whipped around, her hand dive-bombing beneath Mr. Extra Large. Capturing his over-sized balls, she squeezed.
“You have a choice.”

THIRTY-EIGHT
One moment Drave leaned forward, lured by the smile on her lush lips...the next moment she flipped toward him faster than his worst enemy. In slow motion he watched the flight of her small hand as it speared toward his groin, then disappeared beneath the tent his cock made out of his trunks. Before he possessed one thought about evading her strike, her little hand gripped the treasured prize of his balls. She squeezed. His first instinct had been to rip down his trunks, and shove himself toward her in a bid for paradise. But, she meant business.
“Choice?”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Pink tangerine smooch from the Kougar...

Cruelty... Flash of the Fang

Good evening, KitKats, the Kougar feels like she’s on speed dial. And too bad she’s not, since more would probably be accomplished ~
Tomorrow moi will add two more flash-ings to Blocking My Sun ~
And for this week’s Angelic Forecast by Volcano about the conjunction of Venus, Jupiter and the new crescent moon, claw-click over to the Siren-BookStrand Authors blog ~

Just for the Big Cool Cats ~ two more flash-ings have been added ~

Cruelty... Flash of the Caribbean Vampire

ONE
Cruelty can take many forms. I sit in the dark. In the back. In the corner farthest away from the gorgeous young women strutting their stuff beneath the pink-shimmering illumination inside the intimate private ballroom of a Caribbean mansion, belonging to a mysterious man everyone called the Vampire.
The lingerie designs they model not only excite the libido to a painful level, but each one is exquisitely unique and incomparably beautiful. I lust over most of them, my breath hitching ridiculously. God, I wanted to wear them. As I could have once. But, I’m too old. Too ugly. Too fat.

TWO
“May I offer you a drink, madam?” The man’s voice behind me was deep, impossibly deep, and definitely amused. I had no idea why he would find me amusing. Unless he found old and fat some sort of sick private joke? Yeah, mess with the fat woman and tempt the oldie into believing a man found her ‘interesting’. That’s a good one. Haha. Only I’m not laughing, creep.
“I believe you will find the mango sangria particularly refreshing.”
“Mango sangria?” Stupid, stupid! Why take the bait? I should just ignore him. Damn.
“A sip. I wish you to try it.”

THREE
“Wish all you want. No thanks.” Go away. Go find another victim. Irritated, my cheeks flushing...thank god, it’s dark...I return my attention to the filmy glamor negligees. I wish I could feel the silk and lace, the sheer whirl of color as it swishes and slinks over my hourglass curves, as they once were. Not so many years ago. I want to look in the mirror again, admire my own beauty. Maybe be admired. If it’s the right man. Passion untamed...god, yes.
“Please, I need your opinion.”
Suddenly, he’s sitting beside me. I blink like an owl.

FOUR
“My opinion,” I nearly stutter. No man can soundlessly move that fast, can he? His voice had come from my left. Now he sat on my right, his gaze focused on me as if he intended to feast on my face. Maybe he was, in a way. Maybe it was my blood he was after. I stifled a shiver, and chastised myself. The Vampire. I only recognized him because the magazine I freelanced for on the island, often featured him on the society pages. “Oh, I get it. For the magazine’s drink recommendations.”
“If that pleases you, then, yes, Sapphira.”

FIVE
“What else?” Damn, why had I said that? I’d just opened the door...
“I wish to know your palate.” Leaning back, he suavely crooked one finger.
I swallowed as if my life depended on it. I’d never heard of the Vampire interacting with anyone at his fantasy fashion shows. Yes, he attended the island’s elite social events, a stunning woman attached to his side, cleavage down to her navel. But not...
With debonair precision, a waiter from out of nowhere, it seemed, deposited two tall shapely glasses. The Vampire lifted his while I stared.
“To your health, Sapphira. Please taste.”

SIX
Okay, Cici, the mag’s owner would kill me if she found out I hadn’t ‘tasted’. Besides, it would be a coup of a society story, even though I’d only agreed to write up the fashion show because her usual reporter retched with morning sickness.
I pick up the cool curvy glass, then convince my hand not to shake as I slightly raise it. “To your health, Mr. Vorragozi.”
“Tell me what you think,” he encourages.
Are his eyes sparkling strangely? It’s not real blood, is it? Sangria...doesn’t that mean blood? God help me, if I’m remembering right, it does.

SEVEN
I sip. It’s so perfectly yummy-mango, I sip again. And again. Four sips. Five. I force myself to set the glass down. “Amazing. Very amazing, Mr. Vorragozi.”
“I prepared it just for you.”
“Why?” My head begins a pleasant swim. I smile.
“Tell me, what’s your favorite lingerie?”
“Baby dolls,” I blurt out as if I can’t contain myself. “Truth serum?” I ask, and hold up the glass.
“What would be your favorite color to wear?” His eyes glisten like black pearls.
“Red.” My tongue is utterly disobedient.
“Yes, I must have you in red.”
“Blood-red! What kind of cruelty...”

EIGHT
“Cruelty?” He inquires a moment after I’d firmed my lips, despite the maddening urge to blab like a chic lit heroine. I think his eyebrow is raised, but the darkness makes me wonder. Still, his tone is cool as his restaurant’s giant freezer. I know I’ve been in it, writing an article for Cici.
He waits with a patience I admire, or perhaps, he simply enjoys my mouse-like torture as I scurry in my mind to think of a way to escape.
“My age. I think it’s cruel.” So there, Vampire. Maybe that will turn you ice cold with revulsion.

NINE
“How old are you, Sapphira?”
Do I hear the faint drumming of his fingertips? God, I’d love to take another drink. The glass taunted me like a singing Siren.
“Please tell me,” he coaxed. Very persuasively.
It was either grab the glass and sip...or...”Fifty-eight.” I harden my jaw, then avert my face. “Satisfied? Happy?” I slice my tone quite effectively, I believe.
“Would you care to guess my age?”
Neutral, his voice, yet tempting, a caress of black velvet. Oh yes, there’s that underlying amusement.
I gage my chances at shutting him down. Not damn likely, I realize.

TEN
Still...I’m a sucker for the right challenge.
“Forty something,” I fling at him, tightly gripping my hands together. The Mango Sangria beckons and my mouth begs to taste ambrosia again.
He laughs...melodic and deep. Frissons of ecstatic pleasure seize my nerve endings. I sit paralyzed. Wishing I could move. But I couldn’t. I truly couldn’t.
I couldn’t even blink.
“I’ve been told thirty-five. Often.” He made no attempt to hide his amusement. The hypnotic glitter of his eyes danced in the dimness, and felt like a gentle stroke on my face. Odd.
“Actually, I’m one thousand and forty-one.”

ELEVEN

What the hell kind of drug had he put in that drink?
Maybe, it was blood. His blood? Vampire addictive blood. Hadn’t I read that somewhere? Some romance novel from years ago...however my brain is too fuzzy to remember, as if I’d indulged in drinking a Fuzzy Navel. Damn.
I finally blink. “Forty-one?”
“You’ll enjoy the dark side, my pretty Sapphira,” he promises.
“The dark side,” I mumble. Straightening my spine, I announce, “I don’t do the dark side.”
“Do?” He leans forward slightly. “I believe you’ll enjoy ‘doing’ me. As much as I will passionately enjoy ‘doing’ you.”

TWELVE

Shocked to my core...wherever that was, I scoot my chair back, then attempt to stand. It wasn’t happening. My legs have transformed to rubber. “I am leaving.” My chin high, I press down on the table to shove myself upwards.
Instantly...before I can even think about blinking, he is beside me, his hand on my arm as if he intends to escort me somewhere.
“Go away,” I snap, only able to raise myself part way. My temper emerging, I confront the devil vampire, “What drug did you put in my drink?”
“No drug. Merely a special flower essence.”

THIRTEEN

“What? The flower of Bloodroot?” I emphasize ‘blood’ while trying to pull my arm out of his gentlemanly grip. And why the hell does he smell like patchouli and expensive cigar smoke, some exotic mixture of the two which intrigues me more than it should.
“Several blooms from our local flora,” he calmly purrs. Again amusement hides in his voice, highly irritating me.
“Let go.” I stiffen.
“My Sapphira.” His tone humors me. “I will not have you harmed.”
“And spiking my drink with ‘special’ essences won’t harm me?” My tone goes for his jugular.
“It will only enhance our risque’ pleasures.”

FOURTEEN
“I’m not risque’ pleasuring with you,” I storm.
I would have tried jerking my arm away. But damn, I knew he wasn’t letting go. The horrid, overly sexy man.
“Yes, you will.” He’s leaned down to my ear, his tone intimate dark bait I yearn to leap for like a silly fish.
“No, I won’t.” Righteous temper is not confined to youth. “I don’t care what ‘special essence’ you put in my drink.”
“My Sapphira,” he vampire purrs. “Yes, you will.”
In a fit of temper I stomp on his foot. Though, really, I’m not wearing tramp chic spiked heels.

FIFTEEN
Yeah, my marshmallow-sole sandals are going to skewer his foot. He laughs, a low chuckle, just for my ear.
Damnit, I like the virile sound. My insides turn all buttery fluttery.
So what.
“I’ll scream,” I warn.
“I’ll kiss you,” he warns.
Kiss...it skitters through me like a thousand landing butterflies, their wings flapping.
I wiggle my arm in his grip, a useless exercise. Useless like me trying to run on the beach every morning. The only thing it got me was severely sore knees.
“Do you drink blood?”
The words dare their freedom before sanity claims them back.

SIXTEEN
Oh God...my heart thumped to beat any band. Ricky Ricardo thwacking the bongos in a fast Latin rhythm during an episode of I Love Lucy, seizes my mind. Does the Vampire hear?
How superior are his senses? Oh god, he has to be a Vampire. What else?
“You’re trembling, Sapphira.” He picks up the Mango Sangria. “Another sip?”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I counter. Damn it to hell, my voice quavers like a helpless gothic heroine. And I ache to grab hold of the glass. Sip, then keep on sipping.
“Would you like me to taste your blood?”

SEVENTEEN
Seduction. Temptation. The ultimate sexual purr. His voice, a sound barely above a whisper, possesses my ear. Not just the sound. The rim of my ear tingles, pleading for the feel of his lips. The grazing of this teeth.
Omygod. The touch of his fangs?
“Does my rapid neck pulse of absolute fear thrill you?” I dare. With the truth. Why not? He must know. I feel the quick heavy throb below my ear and hate it.
“You thrill me, Sapphira.” He hovers the glass before my lips. “One sip.”
“Tell me the truth,” I desperately bargain. “Then I’ll sip.”

EIGHTEEN
“Which truth, my beloved?”
Beloved...what the freaking hell? This climbed the ladder of creepy exponentially, the way he’d spoken it. As if it were a true endearment. Omygawd.
“Whatever ‘truth’ is most convenient, of course,” I snipe at him. Ripping my gaze away from the sweating glass of Mango Sangria, I try to swallow away my awful thirst. Useless.
“In some respects you haven’t changed, my Sapphira.”
“You act as if you know me,” I snap back like a hoyden. And know, once again, I’d pulled a bonehead move...day-ummm, was that a boner in his black linen pants?

NINETEEN
“I do know you,” he asserts in a dark purr.
I blink several times, lifting my gaze.
“How? We’ve never met before.”
I look down again, expecting not to see what I’d seen. Suddenly, I can’t feel my breath. It’s still there, standing proudly. All too proudly.
“On the island. No, we’ve never met, my Sapphira.”
I stare at his hard-on for what feels like an eternity. Aware that he’s amused like some idle harem prince.
“Where?” I mumble, and jerk my gaze away.
The glass or his overly large cock. I’m trapped between the two.
“Sip. I’ll tell you.”

TWENTY
“Let go. I don’t want to know you.” Yes, a deep vein of stubbornness runs in my family. Hellfire, I wonder which vein he wants to suck on most. And why? He could be Mr. Suave Vampire and suck on any of the four young beauties now eyeing us. They blink their bright-lantern, doe-big eyes as if the magnetic poles are about to shift, tilting the known world upside down. Okay, it could happen. But if it were, there’d be mass panic. I could escape into the abyss of catastrophe.
“Yes, you do,” he assures.
“They want to know you.”

TWENTY-ONE
“They?” he asks as if I’ve actually caught him off guard. Yeah, right, Mr. Huge Boner vampire. It’s still amazingly upright and HUGE. I stare, rather than gaze at what I can never be again. Never was, actually. Beautiful, yes. Not that kind of thinner-than-thin glamor, chic always my constant companion.
“Go, suck their blood,” I prompt, closing my eyes. Could I just fall forward, dead weight, and crawl beneath the table...damn, desperation does breed it’s own insanity.
“I find their blood unappetizing,” he elegantly intones, right out of the movies. “You used to enjoyably suck on my cock.”

TWENTY-TWO
Shocked, no, shocked was not the word. My blood iced. Another ice age? The next instant my blood flamed. Global warming? There was no one word. I’m shocked in the extreme...but, my pique won out, stronger, fiercer, faster...
“Which one would you prefer me to suck on first, Mr. Vorragozi? Your abnormally large dick? Or, should I suck up the rest of the Mango Sangria? How about if I just suck your blood?”
“Dhalyon.” His voice rasped. I suppose because he was actually ‘turned on’ by my offer.
“Dhalyon,” I repeated, not understanding him.
“My first name is Dhalyon.”

TWENTY-THREE
I scowl and consider if I should bite his dick. Viciously.
“I wish you to know my first name before you ‘suck’ on any part of my very willing anatomy, Sapphira.”
“How very gentlemanly of you,” I snarl. “But you haven’t chosen what you want me to suck on first. I gave you three choices.” I emphasize ‘suck’ loudly. And almost feel as though I could stare the Vampire down. Almost. Instead the four beauties openly stare at us. I smile at them. Then give a little wave.
“Cruelty.” His growl was suave. “That I have not possessed your spirit.”

TWENTY-FOUR
“Cruelty?” I ask, stunned in no small measure by fate’s circular pattern.
“That I have not possessed your spirit in my bed. In my life.”
Something twists inside my middle, large as an anaconda. I want an explanation, so fierce I can taste it. Yet...from him. The Vampire.
”Which one?” I utter. And, I have no idea why, except my mind has been left behind in this latest beyond-weird development.
“I had hoped to make this easier on you, my special one.”
“By what? Drugging me with Mango Sangria?” I stab the blade of my voice into him. Sarcastically.

TWENTY-FIVE
Again, my heart thumps like bongo drums. “Okay, not the Mango. Or the Sangria. But whatever drugging ‘substances’ you used.”
Why I feel compelled to correct anything, I don’t have a brain cell left with any clue. Maybe, I merely fill the silence. A vortex of silence. Suddenly.
“I could disappear with you,” he says so softly I’m not certain I actually hear him. Except, inside, I know.
I blink. I sweat. I blurt. “Like a bat? A bat out of hell.”
“No. Like smoke. Poof.”
“Oh.”
“Poof,” he darkly whispers. “We would appear wherever I choose to take you.”

TWENTY-SIX
Okay, my insides have never felt so gooey-spooked. My eyes blink as if they’ve just snapped toothpicks in two. And I swallow, way past *I’m seeing-a-ghost fright*. The closest I recall is Rosemary’s Baby. Now, that was creepsville scary. Yep, and I’ve never gotten over that movie, either. Hell, I don’t like Halloween Haunted houses. Or slasher movies. Or...hell’s bells, as a kid, I didn’t watch the Twilight Zone after one episode, my nightmares were so gargoyle-flying hideous.
“Wouldn’t that look suspicious?” I give another wave to the four beauties, their interest still captured, as much as I’m still captured.

TWENTY-SEVEN
Oddly, I feel him vibrate with laughter. At odds with his statue-like phallus. Yeah, keep the Vamp amused. Maybe, he won’t poof me ‘somewhere’.
“Vampire Viagra?” I ask, staring pointedly at his well-defined, mushroom-shaped point. Damn, what a mouthful...if? If I ever had sucked his dick like he said...had I?
He shakes with more laughter. Until, his finger claims the flesh beneath my chin. I’m surprised by the heat, not by the length of his lone finger. He compels, more than lifts my face. His eyes, dark as midnight, flash like summer lightning.
“You were always my inspiration.”

TWENTY-EIGHT
I almost wish he would bite. Swoop down, and bite. Or do something. His gaze, darker than black, penetrates me, reminding me of a sword swallower. Yep, the force of his gaze is a sword I swallow. Yet, there is a plea, like the flicker of candle, in the depths of his eyes...for what I cannot give him. My few memories of other lifetimes don’t include him. Or any remembrance of vampires. Hell, it’s not like I ever actually knew one.
Time escapes with every breath. His finger doesn’t release my chin. Nor does his gaze unlock from mine.

TWENTY-NINE
The tension kills me, hacking up my insides like a Japanese restaurant chef on meth. Maybe, I should turn my head, the surrendering heroine in this scene...offer my neck, then point to my anxiety-throbbing pulse, and say, Do it, Vampire. Bite me. Bite me right here. Right now. Just do it. Just do it now. Except his gaze entrances me. And I remain obedient. Silly, foolish, stupid, beyond-being-an-idiot me.
“Not here,” he murmurs.
“Too much blood.” The words stumble from between my lips. I sway toward him, feeling impossibly fragile. I whisper, “Why be arrested for assault or murder?”

THIRTY
“I prefer the taste of your lips first.”
The pad of his finger travels over my sensitive flesh, finally grazing my chin, then leaving. It feels barren without his touch. Yet, panic has it’s claws in me. Torn between sensual perfection and my raging fear, I had begged fate to step in, have it’s way.
“My Sapphira.” His palms stroke up my arms. With passion he takes hold of my shoulders, an invitation to come nearer. To become his. I’m not fooled. I know he intends to claim me, regardless of whether I accept him now.
“Kiss me,” he entices.

THIRTY-ONE
The timbre of his voice is gorgeously dark. I sway, and come dangerously close to swooning.
“Kiss me here. Kiss me now,” he croons deeply, like the night he must prefer inhabiting. I swear he must be magnetized, or a true sorcerer. Every particle of my body and being is being pulled toward him. Yes, as much as he urges me forward, I move to him. He’s so tall, my head falls back. Rather than his devastating lips, I half expect to feel the prick of his deadly fangs. God...
“No,” I plead. “I’m too old, too ugly...too fat.”

THIRTY-TWO
An image of me, as I saw myself in the mirror...how I must look in front of anyone who now watches...and who wouldn’t watch? Unless pure disgust overcomes them, their bile threatening, and about to choke them. The debonair handsome most-desired man on the island about to kiss a woman who looks like me.
“Stop,” he whispers. It’s a command, a plea...and passion. “Stop, Sapphira.”
“Not here,” I murmur. Embarrassment climbs up my body like a thousand monkeys after bananas.
His mouth lowers to mine. “Here. Here now.” There’s no point in thinking about moving.
I’m captured.

THIRTY-THREE
“Sapphira.” He breathes my name as if it’s the first breath of his soul. Does he have a soul? Or is he cursed like Buffy’s Angel?
Fear and desire, my own breath escapes against his lips. I want the feel of his lips taking mine. I’m captivated by the shape, the masculine color....not that most men know how to kiss...they don’t, in my experience.
Pressed against the exceptionally hard length of his body, against the spearing tower that is his cock, I wait like I’m in a dream-slow scene, and smell his smoke-luxurious scent.
His lips seize mine.

THIRTY-FOUR
Everything stops. Except his kiss...claiming my lips...then claiming the kiss I cannot help but surrender to him. Our mouths have melded, moving to a violent and sultry rhythm. He takes what he wants. Because my mouth belongs to him. My kiss belongs to him. Yet he gives me what I desire most. I think he knows. He must. Helpless to stop myself, I lean into him. A thrill rips through me as his hands sweep over my back, then trap me completely against him.
He deepens his kiss, ravishing my mouth, his fang slipping over my bottom lip.

THIRTY-FIVE
Stunned, my belly trembles and begs to break free of him. Still, I yield, wildly aware of my breasts flattened against the elegant sculpture of his chest. Despite my panic, my breasts tingle sweetly, and plead to remain. I should be used to the betrayal of my body, by now. I should.
The grazing slide of his fang continues, and becomes a sensual tease on the corner of my mouth, as our lips seek new kisses, and dance to an invisible music. To say his masterful kisses are mind-blowing and fantastic, is to poorly describe what I feel...completely possessed.

December 1, 2008

THIRTY-SIX
Possessed...his lips on mine are surreal, yet fiery ballistic, a bold passion against my mouth. I’ve dreamed about these kind of kisses forever. Except for the fang, I never dreamed about that. It isn’t dreamy. It’s feral. It sends wicked chills down my spine and wicked thrills down to my dripping sex, which now believes paradise could be more than the island surrounding us. My long-neglected sex purrs like a damn pussy, and I wonder if that’s why the slang began...probably not. But who cares? My breasts swell, turning wanton. My nipples ache and are pleasured, wanting more.

THIRTY-SEVEN
He breaks our fused ferocious kiss, his mouth brushing over my chin, a sensuality I adore. Slowly his lips graze along my jaw, then downward, traveling a sexy path over the sensitive flesh of my neck...is he about to bite? Surely, not here. Still, I almost shiver. As the side of his fang touches my neck, then slips gradually downward, I do shiver. My eyelids squeeze together as if tiny clamps have been put on them.
“Tempting me with darkness?” I manage, my whisper so breathy I don’t know if he hears anything.
“You tempted me with the light.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Speed-dial smooch from the Kougar...