Best Erotic Romance 2014

by Kristina Wright

  Thursday afternoon she headed up and over the hill, sweating even more than last time, as the humidity had risen. Thick clouds lumbered across the summer sky while carnal thoughts skipped across her consciousness. She frowned at the clouds and swatted the thoughts away as quickly as they rose. “I just want to see the creek again,” she told the scolding blue jays. They didn’t believe her.

  When she reached Tuscarora Creek, she felt relief rather than shock at the cold water. She waded across and climbed on to the large rock outcropping. She glanced up and down the creek, but her neighbor was nowhere to be seen. Sitting in easy pose for a bit, “Om, Shanti, Shanti, Shanti, Om” rhythmically passed her lips. Rhythmic, at least, until a tremendous yawn interrupted the flow.

  Her legs, fatigued from the spading, grew achy in easy pose. She lay back, stretching out full across the rock, and watched the large, white cumulonimbus clouds wander across the blue sky. She didn’t remember closing her eyes. She didn’t remember hearing anyone or anything approach her. But she never forgot what she heard next.

  “Jane,” he whispered. Her belly jumped, remembering his voice.

  “Miss Harmony, don’t move.” His voice was so close that the breeze of his words roused her more than their meaning.

  “Wha…” she began to turn toward him.

  His hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Don’t move. There’s a rattler next to you.”

  He was squatting down beside her, but his eyes were fixed somewhere over her right shoulder.

  “What?” She blinked rapidly, trying to process what he’d said.

  He looked down at her and flashed a quick smile. “Don’t panic, but there is a rattlesnake sunning itself about five inches to your right.”

  Jane felt her blood turn as cold as the creek’s water. The bad husband had told her about all the things she was sure to hate about living in the country: the bugs, the bats, the mud, the bears and, of course, the snakes. The snakes had been the only truly worrisome item on his list.

  A weird sound squeaked out of her throat. She searched Beau’s face. Would he kill it? A new feeling rose up. The snake was her new neighbor too. She didn’t want it dead. “What do I do?” she whispered.

  He wrapped his hand firmly around her forearm, “Grab my arm, like this. I’m going to pull you up so quick, Mr. Snake might not even know you’ve left.”

  They clasped forearms and he whispered “One, two…” and on “three,” he rose quickly from his squat. She was pulled right along with him, pivoting away from the rock and toward his body.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said as he began to backpedal.

  “Oh god!” she shrieked, as she threw her other arm over his shoulder and flung her weight into him, wanting to get as far from the snake as she could.

  The combined momentum sent them both backward into Tuscarora Creek. He stumbled back; cold water splashed up around them. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the long, sinuous form. At the sight of the snake, Jane began to pedal her legs, as if she could climb her neighbor to safety. He completely lost his footing and they both went down into the chill, flowing waters of the creek.

  He came up laughing. She sat waist deep in the water, staring at the rock, heart hammering, body shaking. He clasped her arm again and hoisted her back up.

  “You okay?”

  She turned away from the snake and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh my god! Oh my god. Sweet Jesus!”

  “Oh, so you’re a Christian after all,” he laughed.

  She pulled back to look at him wide eyed. “I…I…” Words failed her.

  “Thank you?” he prompted.

  She kissed him so hard they almost fell back into the creek. The Tuscarora seemed to chuckle approvingly.

  Beau tightened his arms around her waist and kissed her back. Her breath quickened and when she opened her mouth slightly, her tongue surprised her by coming forward to meet his. Neither of them noticed the cold water around their knees; the heat building between them kept it at bay.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Jane said between kisses. When she felt his desire begin to rise against his shorts she realized what she was doing and pulled back. “Wow,” she said simply.

  He licked his lips and smiled, “Yeah, wow.”

  “Did you just save my life?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. They’re really more scared of you than you are of them.”

  Jane’s short laugh wobbled. “Doubtful!”

  He stooped and fetched a rock from the creek bottom. He tossed it gently, underhanded. The rock bounced twice across the ledge before bumping up against the rattlesnake. It jumped.

  “See, he was as sound asleep as you.”

  The snake yawned—I didn’t know snakes yawned! Jane thought—and slithered slowly from the ledge.

  He put his hands back on her waist. “I shoulda thought to tell you about ’em on Tuesday. Hey,” he looked down, “you’re bleeding!”

  Jane looked down and sure enough, both her kneecaps trickled rivulets of blood down her shins, briefly staining the water pink, and the Tuscarora carried it away. “Oh, gosh. Just what I need, more scars!”

  “C’mon,” he said, as he took her hand and began to lead her from the creek.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’ve got a camper set up not far from here,” he said.

  Jane couldn’t take her eyes from the ground as they walked. She didn’t know if she would be able to take her eyes from the ground for a long time. As lovely as it was to have so many new, living creatures around her, snakes were ones she would rather avoid.

  Beau led her into a small pop-up camper, sat her on the sleeping platform, and pulled a first-aid kit from under the sink. As he swabbed and bandaged her knees, he told her that the snakes were usually on the south-facing sides of the hill, and that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to walk with a walking stick through the woods. “Let the stick shuffle the leaves ahead of you, not your foot,” he said.

  He finished applying the second Band-Aid, placed both his hands on her thighs and tenderly kissed each knee. He smiled up at her. “All better?”

  Jane smiled. “All better,” she said, and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

  His hands squeezed her thighs gently, and when she pulled back, he followed. His face hovered above hers. “Miss Harmony, may I kiss you?”

  She laughed. “We already kissed.”

  “You kissed me, you godless heathen. I was taught proper. I ask first!”

  And then, without her reply, he kissed her deeply. So deeply Jane felt the heat of his kiss go down to her wounded knees and make them tingle. His hands, still on her thighs, squeezed again and her thighs began to tremble. Jane reached her arms around his waist and leaned back, pulling him over on top of her.

  One of his hands left her thigh and slid slowly across her hip, along her waist and settled on her rib cage. He leaned back and looked down at her. “You’re very fit,” he said.

  “Yoga,” she said, and then pulled his lips back to hers. His hand continued upward, passed briefly across her breast and then stole up around the back of her neck. Her hand, in turn, ventured from his waist down to his rear end. She gave it a squeeze and then pulled back.

  “You’re very fit,” she giggled.

  “Farming,” he said, and grabbed her by the shoulders. With one quick, strong move, he lifted her and slid her all the way back into the sleeping area. Her legs, as if by reflex, circled his waist.

  Outside, the fat clouds began to rumble, as if sensing a great event had begun. The air around them grew hotter as their breath came quicker. His hands began to roam from her hair to her neck, her shoulder, to her waist. Jane felt safe under his slow, cautious progress. She also felt the size and shape of his erection pressing against her thigh. She lifted gently against him; in her mind, she was already enjoying the size of him within her.

  He slid her shirt up and began to slide his hand back and forth across her flat stomach. He lea
ned back and glanced down. “Yoga? Really?”

  “Ashtanga yoga,” Jane clarified. “It’s very physical.”

  “You’re very physical,” he said.

  “I almost forgot I liked being physical.”

  She paused, hearing her own words and realizing just what the past years had cost her. The bad husband had been bad in so many ways. She reached for his neck and pulled him back down to her.

  His hand slid under her bra and began to gently squeeze. One finger began to explore the hardness of her nipple. She kissed his neck. A wanting kiss. A hungry kiss. His other hand fumbled the button of her shorts loose and then he stopped.

  “What?” she panted. She searched his face. “Did you just remember you’re a good Christian boy?”

  He laughed hard enough to rock his head back. “Hardly!” He kissed her stomach. “I was just thinking, we really should get you out of these wet clothes.”

  Outside, the gathered clouds began to push the wind through the trees, as if agreeing with him. Jane nodded mutely, and crossed her arms behind her head, watching Beau-the-neighbor pull off each shoe, toss her dripping socks into the sink and hook his fingers through the belt loops of her cutoff shorts. He began to tug, and she wiggled her hips to help his progress.

  She sat up so he could pull the shirt from her head and helpfully reached back to undo the clasp of her bra. She leaned back on her elbows and watched his face as he looked her up and down. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, and kissed her belly again.

  “Hey!” she said, “What about your wet clothes?”

  He kicked his shoes into the corner and had his shorts and T-shirt off almost before she finished the sentence. His cock now stared her right in the eye. Jane stared right back, then licked her lips and reached out to pull it toward her mouth. He groaned and held the ceiling of the camper for balance.

  Jane liked the way his cock filled her mouth. Just enough, but not too much. She liked the smell of him. As her tongue roamed around the circumference of his cock, his smell made her think of fresh strawberries, and warm rocks and summer sun. Outside, the wind whistled and the leaves in the trees applauded her enthusiasm. Rain began to patter on the canvas walls.

  She leaned back to smile up at him. “Sounds like we’re getting a thunderstorm,” she said.

  As if on cue, the clouds let loose a long, low rumble, and the interior of the camper darkened by half. “We’re getting something,” he said in a low voice, and pushed her back. He lay across her and let his cock nudge up against her. The flicker in her belly was now a full, roaring fire, inviting him in.

  The ache between her hips grew with want. The wind also intensified, and the camper trembled. Jane lifted one knee over his shoulder, hoping to encourage his entry. But he didn’t enter. He slid back, lifted one hand up to hold her calf that had been on his shoulder, and began to kiss her stomach again. He kissed the slight protrusion of her hip bones—first right, then left. Jane moaned, and the wind outside moaned back. The camper shook again.

  He kissed her inner thigh and then let his tongue begin a wandering journey. Jane writhed as his tongue dipped in, slid up, circled about, circled about, circled about. The camper brightened with sudden light, followed quickly by a thud of thunder.

  He paused to look up at her. “It’s very close,” he said.

  She nodded, closed her eyes and gently brought his head back down so his tongue could continue its delightful dance. Lightning flashed again; pleasure flashed through Jane. Thunder rolled, and she rolled her hips against him. The rain rose in tempo, and Jane’s passion followed.

  “It is getting close,” she panted.

  “I can tell,” he said.

  He kept his hand on her calf, keeping her one leg lifted high. He rose up, positioned himself and then slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, settled into her. He sunk in so deep that it pushed all thought and reason from her mind. Jane’s cry was lost in a clap of thunder that seemed to slap the world away.

  He began to draw back, paused deliciously and pushed slowly back into her as the rain began to lash the camper in its own passionate rhythm. Jane’s head rocked side to side. She fell into a well of incredulous disbelief at the depth of her pleasure. He reached his other hand around, clasping one firm gluteal muscle and pulling her even tighter to him, even as she was meeting every thrust.

  Jane relished the building energy in the center of herself. It almost felt sharp, intense as it was. The sharpness of it rose and rose and became almost unbearable. She heard her own voice over the wind and rain, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” It was as if the mantra of her feet two days prior had found a strong voice in her flaring desire. In the flashing light, she saw his face, mouth wide open, fixated on her as he filled her again and again.

  His looking was so intense, almost hawk-like in its focus. She wanted his mouth on hers and pulled him down. Their kiss was woven with breath, and tongue and passion. The weight of him met her unbearable need, and she felt herself rising to a new place.

  “So close, so close, so close,” she was now panting under her breath.

  He stayed true to his form, held his tempo and carried her above and beyond what she thought pleasure could be. It broke over her like water over rocks. It swept through her like wind through trees. Jane shuddered like a camper in a storm. From a distant place, she was aware that he too seemed to be breaking past a barrier, letting loose.

  Jane floated on waves of utter release. They enveloped her, like living Shanti. Her body sighed from the inside out and the rain outside ebbed to a steady patter. The kettledrum thunder rolled over the next hill, as if telling the trees to the east what a great show they had missed. Beau rested his head on her shoulder.

  “Shanti, Shanti, Shanti,” she whispered.

  “What does that mean?” he murmured against her neck.

  “Peace, Peace, Peace,” she told him, and let her hand begin to wander up and down his back.

  “Do you feel peaceful?”

  “I have been at peace ever since I came here,” she said. “There is something about this land that fits me.”

  “Except the snakes,” he said, still directing his words to the space beneath her ear.

  “Oh no,” she said. “I’ve decided I love the snakes.”

  He lifted up and gave her a skeptical look. “How’s that?”

  She kissed him. “Wanting to see Tuscarora Creek brought me to you,” she said, “But the snake brought you to me.”

  He laughed, and said, “I couldn’t wait to get to you…snake or no snake.”

  “Even though I’m a heathen?”

  “City girl, heathen and strike three…” he kissed her gently, “you’ve taken up with the Bradford boy.”

  Outside, dappled by the remaining raindrops, Tuscarora Creek burbled and laughed and carried their new story downstream.

  BIG BULLY

  A. M. Hartnett

  It was my job to act out, or at least everyone seemed to think so. It was Teal’s job to make sure I didn’t go too far.

  I was in the backseat of his car, his actual car and not the boring sedan he usually chauffeured me around in. I didn’t know shit about cars, but Teal’s personal ride was a slick red bullet that cornered like it was one with the road.

  Not that I expected Teal to drive a shitty car. He worked his ass off for my father and was paid well. Of course, he would have his toys.

  “I don’t see why you have your thong in such a twist,” I muttered under my breath.

  He didn’t answer me. Eyes on the road. I shifted the blanket around my shoulders. I’d only been damp when he’d showed up, but I was still freezing. Swimming in the Atlantic in mid-November will do that.

  “Those were my friends,” I went on to break the silence. “None of them would sell me out.”

  ”All your friends would sell you out,” he said.

  “Is it so hard to believe anyone would just like me enough to keep their cameras in their purses?”

  “Stop
talking. You’re slurring. You know how that gets on my nerves.”

  You’d swear from the way he talked to me I was the employee and he was the employer. No one talked to me like he did. I was accustomed to getting my way, and Teal was the only person who never let me get my way.

  Teal had come into my life when I was eighteen, right after my first and only DUI. It was a stupid thing to do and my apology to my fans was genuine, but it put me on the list of former child stars spiraling out of control. I wasn’t half as bad as the press made me out to be, I swear. I was drug free, but I didn’t have the discipline to stop myself when I started drinking. It wasn’t the booze, it was the letting go that booze let me do. This usually meant I ended up in embarrassing situations, even if they did seem like a good idea at the time.

  Isn’t that how it always goes?

  Usually when I was having a bit of fun and Teal had to come collect me, he’d have to ram through a wall of photographers to get to me. It was something else to watch him. He’d grab me and just shoulder them out of the way like King Kong playing high-school football.

  “So who tipped you off? You’re the only one who showed up.”

  “One of your friends called the press. I have connections that make sure I get most calls first.”

  I didn’t say anything as the sting went deep. I didn’t really think those people were my friends. I had three friends I could count on. Everyone else was just an accessory or an employee, at least until they sold my location to the tabloids and got Teal on my ass.

  Still, I preferred the illusion that my hangers-on adored me. I sure as hell didn’t like Teal quipping about it.

  I sucked in a breath and peered at him in the semidarkness. When he was first introduced to me he’d been a scary mountain of a man wedged inside a suit and tie, his head shaved and his gray eyes hard. He’d since grown out his salt-and-pepper hair and had abandoned his enforcer uniform for a less conspicuous jeans and T-shirt combination. It made him no less menacing.