“Yeah, that’s right.”
“What if I want to be the dom?”
He looked like he’d swallowed his tongue. His eyelids lowered and his gaze fell to her mouth. “Then you can do whatever you want to me,” he said, his voice thick with arousal.
Oh my. Was she ready for this? Was she ready to take a chance on Noah? “What if things don’t work out?”
“Then we’ll switch roles.” He grinned.
She whacked him on the arm. “I mean between us. Our friendship is important to me. I’m not sure I want to risk that.”
“My feelings for you haven’t changed since I first saw you at the Labor Day picnic. Actually, that’s not quite true. That day, I fell in lust. Today, I fell in love.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Noah loved her? This wasn’t just a case of friends becoming lovers. He’d always thought of her in those terms. But what about her? Had her anger and hurt over Drew cheating on her clouded her vision? Had it kept her from seeing Noah as a potential boyfriend, or had it only kept her from admitting to herself that she saw him that way? Whatever the case, she’d hidden behind the friendship banner long enough.
She reached up and stroked his cheek, his five o’clock shadow tickling her skin. “I’m not sure if what I feel is love just yet, but I know there’s more here than a simple friendship. But if we’re going to explore this, we need to go slow.”
He kissed the inside of her wrist. “Whatever you want.”
“And no labels.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“I don’t want to feel pressured. So let’s think of this as an…” She waved her free hand, unsure how to finish the thought.
“Un-relationship?” he supplied helpfully.
“Yes! That’s it.”
“And are you my un-girlfriend?”
“Uh… yeah. I think.” For some reason, she didn’t like the sound of that particular “un” quite as much.
His lips trailed up her arm, leaving behind a fiery path, and settled below her ear. “I just have one more question.”
“What’s that?” she asked, wishing he’d shut up and kiss her.
“Can we have un-sex, too?”
She laughed and linked her fingers behind his neck, pulling him to her. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Noah whisked her up in his arms and carried her down the hall to his bedroom. She had a good feeling about this. Life with her new un-boyfriend was going to be un-believable.
Kristine Cayne, author of
Deadly Obsession
Kristine Cayne is fascinated by the mysteries of human psychology—twisted secrets, deep-seated beliefs, out-of-control desires. Add in high-stakes scenarios and real-world villains, and you have a story worth writing, and reading.
The heroes and heroines of her Deadly Vices series, beginning with Deadly Obsession, are pitted against each other by their radically opposing life experiences. By overcoming their differences and finding common ground, they triumph over their enemies and find true happiness in each other’s arms.
Today she lives in the Pacific Northwest, thriving on the mix of cultures, languages, religions and ideologies. When she’s not writing, she’s people-watching, imagining entire life stories, and inventing all sorts of danger for the unsuspecting heroes and heroines who cross her path.
Come chat with Kristine on Facebook or Twitter.
Donna’s Date
By Lexi Revellian
She’d enjoyed herself, up to a point, but office parties really weren’t her thing. Glammed-up overweight secretaries drinking too much and becoming embarrassing, male acquaintances thinking for no obvious reason it was their lucky night… Donna had done the rounds, willowy in Armani, laughing and chatting in order to demonstrate her social skills to management, knowing she looked her best. At ten fifteen she judged it time to go. She disengaged herself from Jim, who’d been following her round all evening like Mary’s little lamb, and left everyone to it. She stepped on to the pavement alone, the wind ruffling her hair and cooling her too-warm face, and headed towards her car.
As the lock clicked open, she noticed something under the windscreen wiper. A card with a business address and phone number, and the name Michael Farnell. She turned it over, frowning, and read the note handwritten in black ink.
Hi, I saw you when you parked. I’d like to meet you (I should say I’m quite normal, not a mad stalker, and this is the first time I’ve done this sort of thing – just I really like the look of you). If you’d be interested in getting together for coffee/drinks/lunch/dinner give me a call.
Mike
Donna raised her eyebrows and dropped the card on the pavement. Then she noticed the appalling old banger parked behind her and had a better idea. She picked the card up again, slipped it under Annie’s windscreen wiper, got into her Audi and drove away smiling.
Annie emerged from the Ladies, coat on ready to go. Jim was sitting on a radiator outside, endearingly resembling the last teddy bear in the shop on Christmas Eve.
“Annie, you haven’t seen Donna, have you?”
“No – I think she left some time ago.” His face fell. “D’you want a lift? I’ve got the car.”
“It’s all right, thanks, I’ll get the bus. You’re in the opposite direction.” He walked with her towards the exit. “Annie…” He hesitated. “Er…has Donna ever said anything about me?”
Nothing you’d want to hear. “We haven’t got a lot in common. She doesn’t tell me things.”
“Oh. Just wondered. Seeing as she’s on the next desk. Do you know if she’s going out with anyone?”
Jim, she wouldn’t go for you in a million years, nice though you are. And if in a moment’s aberration she did, she’d eat you up and spit you out. “I think so.”
“Ah. I just wondered,” he said again. “Because she came on her own tonight. Happy Christmas, Annie.”
They went their separate ways. Annie unlocked her car door, got behind the wheel, saw the white card and got out to see what it was. She read the message and smiled with pleasure. Not that she’d do anything about it, of course. But she was flattered. She’d made a real effort with her appearance tonight, put on more makeup than she usually bothered with. Her sister had lent her a dress and come round specially with straighteners to tame her hopelessly unruly curls, then dug out a pair of heels from the back of the wardrobe and insisted she wore them. She hadn’t been sure about this, had felt most unlike herself. So it was cheering to know a stranger found her attractive. He had nice handwriting, too. Annie put the card in her bag, the car into gear and set off towards home.
The next Monday Annie waited till Donna had left her desk, and got out the card, her heart beating fast. She’d been thinking about this all weekend. The little voice in her head that said live dangerously, what have you got to lose, take a chance had gradually drowned out the voice saying he might be awful, it’s bound to be embarrassing, you just don’t let strange men pick you up. Glancing round to make sure no one was in earshot, she dialled the number with trembling fingers.
“Hello?” A male voice. Can’t tell anything from one word.
“Hello…my name’s Annie. Last Friday, you left a card on my car…” She couldn’t believe she was doing this. He could be anyone. Her face felt hot.
“Annie! Thank you so much for ringing me.” His voice was deep, with an agreeable hint of a Scottish accent. “When I saw you that evening I hoped you were going to the same party as I was, and when you weren’t there – look, I really don’t make a habit of this sort of thing.”
“Neither do I – ringing random strangers, I mean.”
“I’m so pleased you did. You sound as nice as you look. Can we meet? Whereabouts are you?”
“I’m at work, off Cheapside.”
“Not far from me. Would you let me buy you lunch?”
“I only get an hour…”
“That’s good – if you hate me on sight, at least it’ll soon be over. Do you know Haz on the co
rner of Foster Lane?”
“No, but I can find it.”
“What time suits you?”
“Twelve thirty – just after.”
“Annie, I’ll look forward to it.”
“How will I recognize you?”
“I’m six foot, dark hair, suit, erm…blue and black striped tie. And I’ll know you. I’ll get there first.”
“Okay…see you later, then.”
Annie put her phone away, excited. He’d sounded really nice. Not at all weird or alarming. And lunch in a public place was safe, it wasn’t as if she was being reckless. She went to Google Maps to find Haz. On Street View it wasn’t yet open, though a sign in the window announced that it soon would be.
“What are you looking at, Annie?” Jim had materialized behind her.
“I’m meeting a friend for lunch at Haz, I was just checking it out. Have you been there?”
“No.” His eyes strayed to Donna as she approached and sat at her desk. “I bet Donna has.”
Donna glanced up. “Donna has what?”
“Have you been to Haz?”
Donna answered coolly while tapping at her keyboard. “Yes. Turkish. Grills, salads, pasta. Medium prices.”
“Better than a sandwich at your desk, then. Have a good time.” Jim wandered off. Donna’s gaze slid in Annie’s direction, noting the flush on her face and the sparkle in her eyes.
Annie approached the expanse of plate glass windows, fretting about her hair. On Friday Fran had got it almost sleek, and now it was Medusa-ing all round her face. Perhaps he wouldn’t recognize her. He’d be sitting down, so how could she judge his height? Haz Café and Haz Restaurant were side by side, and he hadn’t said which. This was really nerve racking. Probably the café. She peered through the glass. Everyone seemed to be in couples or larger groups. The restaurant was less crowded. Annie identified him at once, sitting alone at a table for two, slim, broad shoulders, dark head turned as he spoke to a waiter. She pushed the big glass door and walked up to his table. He was studying the menu.
“Michael?” He looked up at her. Seriously fit, stubble, striking blue eyes with a hint of puzzlement in them. That would be the hair. “Michael Farnell?”
He got to his feet. “Yes…”
“Hello. I’m Annie.” He hesitated for a moment then pulled out a chair for her. She slipped her jacket off and sat. He was still staring at her. “I’m afraid this is how my hair really is. Hopeless. I straighten it once a year just to confirm it’s too much hassle to do on a daily basis.”
“No, you look great if not quite what I was expecting.” He smiled for an instant, a delightful smile, as if privately amused. “Call me Mike. What will you have to drink?” He passed her a menu.
They talked about work, where they lived, family, university; fifty minutes flew by. Annie began to hope he’d ask her out again, and worry that he hadn’t said anything about it. Perhaps, though they were getting on so well, she wasn’t his type or something. She’d have to go in a minute. She glanced at her watch then out of the window as he summoned the waiter. To her surprise she saw Jim, Donna, Baz and Cathy beyond the glass, about to enter the restaurant. Donna’s eyes passed from Annie to Mike, and for a moment her face became stony. Jim waved, Donna flicked her hair back and they went and sat at a table across the room. Mike paused in the act of entering his PIN in the terminal, gazing over at the group.
“Friends of yours?”
“Yes, from work.”
“Who’s the tall blonde?”
“Donna. She works at the next desk to mine.” Mike finished paying and the waiter removed the plate. Donna slid elegantly to her feet and walked purposefully across to their table, flashing a smile at Annie. She sat on the leather bench next to Mike, smoothing her hair.
“Annie, you know I’m going to run the Marathon?” Annie shook her head. This was news to her, and improbable news at that. Donna’s idea of exercise was carrying designer carrier bags while hailing a taxi. “I’m collecting sponsors. Can I count on you?”
“Which charity are you running for?”
Pause. “Oxfam. They do such good work.”
“Okay. Fifty pee a mile?”
Donna leaned towards Mike and smiled at him under her lashes. “You’ll think me entirely shameless, but can I possibly sign you up too?”
“Why not?” Mike said. “I’ll see Annie’s fifty pence and raise you another.”
Donna produced her diary and a pen from her bag. “Give me your number so I can let you know how far I ran.”
Mike smiled. “No need. I have complete faith in your athletic prowess.” He dug in his pocket and got out a twenty-pound note, a fiver, a pound and fifty pence, laid the money on the table and pushed it towards her. “There, now you won’t have to chase me.” He stood, picked up Annie’s jacket and held it out. “Come on, Annie, I’ll walk you to your office. There’s something I want to ask you.”
Lexi Revellian, author of
Remix
Replica
Lexi Revellian started writing in 2006, and has been unable to stop. In 2010 she self-published her third novel, Remix, a contemporary mystery/romance. which spent eight months in the UK Kindle top 100. This was followed by Replica, a thriller/romance. So far, she has sold over 46,000 books.
Lexi makes jewellery and silver under her real name, Lexi Dick. She is a liveryman of the Goldsmiths’ Company, and has made pieces for 10 Downing Street, Her Majesty the Queen and Lady Thatcher. She lives in London.
Relationship Status
By David Wailing
It’s a great relief for Amy, to escape the enforced silent zone of the bar. They’re not installed everywhere yet, thank God, but she expected it from somewhere trendy like Shoreditch, and that’s where her old work colleagues had wanted to meet for a drink. At least it wasn’t filled with bloody couples, like the whole of London seemed to be tonight.
All good fun. She’s had a nice time. Reassured herself she’s now earning more than either Molly or Parveen, good. Katy’s still married but having an affair with her office intern so there’s trouble in paradise there, good. Otherwise the rest of the girls are all single like her, good. So yes, a nice evening. But she’s still desperate to get down into the London Underground where she can finally get back online.
Amy’s unlocking her smartphone even before the escalator has reached the bottom of the station. She feels out of the loop. God, it’s been two whole hours, what has she missed! She hates this whole wi-si thing they have in public places now, forbidding internet access. Stupid law. You’d think the Government might have better things to do than try to force people to talk to each other.
Her auto pops up, as familiar as looking in the mirror.
Hi Amy, hope you had fun with your
friends tonight! Here’s the selected
feed since 6:17pm:
27 direct messages
4 personal videos
35 referred videos
52 status updates
44 tweets
20 veets
5 bleets
31 notifications
22 sexnet messages
4 sexnet recommends
12 app requests
6 podcasts
15 newsfeed stories
18 ads
Amy doesn’t smile to see so much activity waiting for her. It’s roughly what she was expecting. She could add a zero on the end of all those numbers, if it wasn’t for her auto, selecting what it considers the most relevant. It’s the usual mixture of sources: all the people in her Circle, others she’s subscribed to, and those that have demographically targeted her. So this is about normal. Amy isn’t a geek or anything.
A train pulls in and she finds a seat. She doesn’t look at any of the other passengers, but gets busy reviewing all the things her auto has suggested need her personal attention. Ignore. Like. Ignore. Reply. Watch. Like. Like. Circulate. Approve. Reply. Watch. Forward. Like. Dislike. Dislike. Delete. Reply. Reply. Reply.
&nbs
p; Oh, and here we go, updates from the autos of the friends she’s just met. Like hers, their autos have posted their exact current location on various tubes, trains, buses and taxis. Similar updates flicker down her feed:
Molly Jacobs has had a great time
catching up with Katy O’Connor,
Amy Pearce, Parveen Smith and Sally
Adams at Raising The Bar,
Shoreditch, London E2 1WR! Lovely
to see you all again!
Amy brings her smartphone closer and tells her auto to post a similar update. The tube carriage is alive with murmurings and mumblings, as half the passengers are doing the same thing, but her auto recognises her voice above the background noise. Immediately it composes an update using the words she tends to use, phrased the way she always phrases things, and posts it without waiting for approval. Amy doesn’t even check.
The train announces it’s coming into Vauxhall. She glances up at the video adverts blazing away along the inside of the carriage. For the past few weeks, everywhere she goes the ads are all offering the same thing. Find love. Find a man. Find love. Find a man. Distracting images of smooth muscled models, always blonde with blue eyes, just like most of her past sexnet partners. The ads know what she likes. They know she’s single. They know that today is Monday 14th February. After tomorrow they’ll be replaced by the usual ads for clothes, holidays, corporate training courses. Until then it’s the same thing. Love. Love. Love.
Hearts and Arrows Page 9
